How could Bo Yutong be here!?
Ruan Tao stared at the four people in front of her, frozen for a solid two or three seconds.
It wasn’t until she noticed one of the aunties’ puzzled expression that she finally snapped back to reality.
Ruan Tao quickly gave a shy smile and said, “Hello, uncle and auntie. My name is Xia Xiaoxi. I’m sixteen years old.”
In this era, sixteen was already considered an adult.
In the smaller Residential Areas, there were no concepts like “protecting minors.” Most places operated under the principle of survival of the fittest; those without ability, regardless of age or gender, had a hard life.
Bo Yutong’s area was comparatively better, showing more tolerance toward the weak.
The auntie in charge here looked like an ordinary middle-aged woman on the surface, but Ruan Tao knew from her impressions that she was far from the kind of cleaning staff she remembered.
Two aunties were present: one had long blonde hair and a European-looking face, while the other had shoulder-length black hair, wore glasses, and appeared to be around middle age.
The blonde auntie smiled kindly, while the black-haired one, expressionless, pushed her glasses up and glanced at the documents before her.
In the current situation, paper itself was already a symbol of wealth.
Even here, weekly recruitment never used paper. Instead, they used powers to create a device similar to a communication tool, projecting a screen-like interface in front of them.
Bo Yutong sat quietly to the side, saying nothing.
“Can you sweep?” the black-haired auntie asked, looking over her glasses. “Where did you learn it?”
The question sounded bizarre at first, but it was actually quite logical. Most of the people who came to work here were from the Lower-Class Residential Areas, even the homeless.
In other words, most of these people had never even had floors to sweep as children. How could they have learned?
“I worked in a Madam’s household,” Ruan Tao recited the line she had prepared. “The Madam had a child, and I cleaned, cooked, did laundry, and also took care of the baby.”
Taking care of a baby, indeed.
Bo Yutong’s area didn’t have any children who needed tending anyway. Anyone could boast.
The “taking care of the baby” part had been added with help from Li Yudong. This segment of the story was copied from a brief real-life experience of Li Yudong.
The Madam was a mistress, and the child was illegitimate, left uncared for. The father was wealthy and didn’t concern himself with such trivialities, hiring someone casually to deal with the postpartum period.
Li Yudong had used the alias Xiao Xia at the time.
Ruan Tao felt that name wouldn’t do, and since besides peaches, her favorite fruit was watermelon, she decided on the name “Xia Xiaoxi.”
It seemed random, but the Madam’s special status allowed her to refuse certain questions, and if investigated, it was unlikely to expose the lie.
Sure enough, the black-haired auntie started asking about details of her previous work.
Ruan Tao answered lightly, keeping her responses vague, and finally whispered, “The Madam instructed me not to tell others.”
Perhaps some instinct akin to that of a small animal kicked in at that moment.
Ruan Tao instinctively glanced at Bo Yutong.
He leaned back relaxed in his chair, his military hat set on the table. One elbow rested on the armrest, fingers bent to support his chin. The other hand lay on the armrest, the index finger tapping slightly, as if growing impatient.
Everyone present, including Ruan Tao, picked up on this subtle message.
“You don’t have anything else, right?” the blonde auntie asked. “You can start working this afternoon. Half a day’s extra work means extra pay.”
Ruan Tao nodded happily. “Okay!”
Things went as smoothly as she had imagined.
At lunch, Ruan Tao turned back into a hamster and slipped away. She had stocked a lot of rodent food in her portable storage space and grabbed a few nuts to nibble on.
When the afternoon work period arrived, she transformed back into a human and headed to her workstation.
The Administrative District was sizable, and Bo Yutong, being the type who liked things clean, required daily cleaning. The central area had dedicated Life Assistants, while the outer areas relied on cheap, disposable tool-workers for daily maintenance.
Ruan Tao collected cleaning equipment and, after receiving a handover from the previous tool-worker, officially began her job.
Her area was near the Northwest Gate, including a “dormitory building.”
This building housed the disposable tool-workers. Since weekly numbers fluctuated and gender ratios were uncertain, there were no separate male and female dorms.
Except when large facilities needed to be built inside the Administrative District, each room was generally single-occupancy.
The environment wasn’t luxurious, but it was far better than the Lower-Class Residential Areas outside: safe, clean, and with good air quality.
Previously, Ruan Tao had wondered while reading novels why Li Yudong’s female protagonist always ran around like an errand worker…
Now she finally understood—it was all out of necessity.
They needed to earn their living.
Their workplace likely had surveillance everywhere, but definitely not in the restrooms.
Ruan Tao memorized her activity range, then hid in the restroom. While transforming into a hamster, she asked Qian Bian to create a dummy.
The dummy followed Qian Bian’s instructions, could perform relatively complex actions, but could not speak or communicate normally.
She let the dummy go to work while she stayed hidden in the restroom… and started playing on her phone.
Her own phone.
She hadn’t had the chance to touch it before, as she had to remain in hamster form most of the time…
Holding the phone felt incredibly familiar. Ruan Tao skillfully unlocked it with her fingerprint.
After thinking for a moment, the first thing she searched for wasn’t anything else—it was the novel she had been reading about this world’s story.
Ruan Tao opened the app.
A circle spun continuously on the screen, with four large characters below: Loading…
Standard procedure.
She waited patiently for almost a minute, nearly furious enough to throw the phone.
Finally, the circle disappeared, replaced by a line of text: Network not connected. Check your network settings.
Ruan Tao: ………………
Of course. In this world, expecting internet access was absurd.
They could only check data from the “previous” world using abilities.
This news made Ruan Tao feel a bit overwhelmed, so she turned to open her memo notes.
Although Ruan Tao didn’t like to admit she wasn’t very sharp, she did tend to forget things easily, so she often wrote notes to remind herself.
The last note was from September 2020, reminding her: Remember to buy cola.
Ruan Tao remembered that day; she had indeed gone out to buy cola.
It was all Lu Yingzhu’s fault for drinking all her cola.
Looking further back in her notes, most entries were simple cues that immediately triggered her memory, confirming that her memory was still fine.
Her eighth-to-last note described events from three days before the cola incident. It contained hundreds of words berating the author, expressing her concern, and confessing to Bo Yutong.
Even though the Gregorian calendar was no longer used, looking at it now felt surreal.
She had first liked Bo Yutong in 2020, which, compared to the current timeline, was already centuries ago.
It was truly remarkable.
The phone was still the one she was familiar with. Without an internet connection, she couldn’t retrieve much useful information.
Ruan Tao carefully put it away.
Although the internet was inaccessible, the photos and videos stored inside were precious memories.
Not finding anything was a minor issue—the real trouble was yet to come.
Ruan Tao had originally assumed that having her phone meant that if Lu Yingzhu wanted to contact her, she could do so easily. Now, with no signal at all, there was no way to communicate.
For now, she could only focus on the tasks at hand.
Her ultimate goal was to become a “Life Assistant,” which meant she had to demonstrate abilities beyond cleaning.
After some thought, the only option was to make something delicious.
When her parents were absent, she had cooked with Lu Yingzhu before. Her skills weren’t exceptional, but they were far better than those surviving in the post-apocalyptic world.
The post-apocalyptic setting had limited ingredients and lacked seasonings.
Here, the common staple was mutated potatoes.
Although mutated, their taste was not very different from normal potatoes—just larger and hardier.
After tasting a meal of boiled potatoes with salt, Ruan Tao grimaced.
She had once thought that even if her body changed, she could survive ten days without food. She would still eat every day, and if she couldn’t gain weight, she would eat even more—unlike Bo Yutong, who economized by skipping meals whenever possible.
She now realized how difficult it could be to enjoy food here.
Ruan Tao volunteered to help the lady in charge of cooking prepare lunch.
In this place, everyone preferred to stay low and collect their weekly wages. Since someone stepped up voluntarily, no one objected.
Ruan Tao knew her identity was only valid for one week, after which she wouldn’t be allowed in. She decided to go all in.
The men in the dormitory could leave through the Northwest Gate.
Ruan Tao wasn’t allowed to know what they did outside, but she could play cute and ask them to hunt a few wild animals while out.
Qian Bian had said that fierce beasts could be divided into those without brains and those who refused to communicate with humans.
Ruan Tao interpreted this as: some beasts were edible, some were not.
Sure enough, that afternoon, three men returned carrying prey.
One of them carried a creature resembling a rooster, though enormous in size. Its yellow talons were coated with what looked like steel, and even its comb had transformed into sharp spikes.
Ruan Tao touched the recently deceased beast’s body.
…the meat seemed fine and edible.
The other two men carried a wild boar-like beast together.
Ruan Tao was busy using a device to start a fire. From a distance, she saw the two men bringing in the black boar and was thrilled, praising their “bringing the pig to the fire” effort.
She had a few people help slaughter the boar, rendered fat into half a pot of lard, and collected a bowl of cracklings.
Although there were no tomatoes, there were wild fruits that were sweet and sour.
Ruan Tao mashed the fruits, mixed them with minced pork and chicken, then added non-toxic mushrooms collected from the mountains, cooking them slowly to create a fragrant, sweet-and-sour meat sauce.
The kitchen tools were made by ability users; the fire and high heat were pre-stored with powers.
They weren’t exactly like what Ruan Tao was used to, but the tools were complete, even including an oven.
She roasted the meat and chicken pieces, brushing them midway with a sweet fruit glaze, turning them over, and cooking until three-quarters done.
Ruan Tao used a large baking tray. She laid thick slices of large potatoes at the bottom, then added glazed chicken and bacon, and a layer of meat sauce on top of the potatoes.
Within 20 minutes, the dish emitted an extremely appetizing aroma.
She secretly tore open a bag of chips Lu Yingzhu had given her, sprinkled them on top of the meat sauce, and added another layer.