“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Shen.”
Li Feng handed the burlap sack back to Tangtang and gave Zhang Yi a slight shake of his head.
“Miss Shen, this isn’t an area designated for scavengers yet. You can take a left and head out via the trail over there.”
Zhang Yi pointed to a narrow path up ahead—not the one Shen Tangtang had used to come in.
“Got it, thanks a bunch!”
Clutching her sack tightly, Shen Tangtang wasted no time hurrying down the path Zhang Yi had indicated.
That had scared the living daylights out of her. She genuinely thought the leaves in her sack were goners.
Of course, the mercenary corps probably wouldn’t have stooped to stealing a single leaf from her, but who could really say for sure?
Taking her food was basically carving meat right off her bones.
“Deputy Leader, are we really just letting her walk away like that?”
A mercenary nearby chimed in. He was the one who had spotted the girl acting all suspicious and marching unhesitatingly straight into the ant cave they had cleared just yesterday, assuming she was a scout sent by a rival mercenary corps.
“It’s fine. She’s just an orphan with a clean background and zero connections to other mercenary outfits.”
Tossing his dagger from hand to hand, Zhang Yi cast a cold, razor-sharp glance in the direction Shen Tangtang had vanished. Their Third Mercenary Corps had hauled in a massive bounty this time around, and word of certain discoveries had inevitably leaked out, drawing the predatory gaze of rival groups.
With a sharp whistle of displaced air, the dagger buried itself deep into a massive boulder, leaving only the hilt visible on the outside.
After walking quickly out of the men’s line of sight, Shen Tangtang finally slowed her pace.
That had nearly given her a heart attack.
She could practically feel the lethal intent radiating from Zhang Yi’s eyes—he looked like he wanted nothing more than to murder her on the spot.
Of course, in this wasteland world, taking a life was terrifyingly trivial; random scavengers lost their lives every single day over nothing.
Since they hadn’t given her a hard time, she supposed… they could technically be counted as decent guys.
Once she was safely out of range, Shen Tangtang couldn’t help humming a cheerful little tune under her breath. Fortune favors the bold, after all, and her haul today had been off the charts.
It would be even better if she could manage to unearth some sweet potatoes on top of that.
Though, she was mostly just daydreaming. The sweet potato patch was bound to be right in the middle of their active reclamation zone, which explained why it had taken them over a month and they still hadn’t finished clearing the sector.
Resources inside a reclamation zone weren’t cultivated by the safe zone itself, meaning scavengers had zero rights to lay claim to them. The sweet potato patch would undoubtedly be completely excavated by the mercenaries, handed over to safe zone headquarters for distribution, and only opened up to scavengers later so they could pick over whatever crumbs were left behind.
Ugh, she was craving some sweet, sticky, chewy roasted sweet potatoes.
She hadn’t eaten sweet potatoes more than a handful of times since arriving in this wasteland world, leaving her severely lacking in balanced nutrition—even her little steamed buns weren’t growing properly.
Talk about a headache.
Humming the theme song to GG Bond, Shen Tangtang dusted off her mood, squatted back down, and resumed scanning leaves.
Real, tangible harvest right in front of her was what mattered most. No edible food meant no credits, and no credits meant zero future.
For the sake of a glorious future, Shen Tangtang, you’ve got this.
And forget about chasing down any more energy stones—she was going to awaken as a supernatural ability user down the road, and she didn’t need the extra trouble.
[Scan result: Radiation level 39%, edible.]
Just as Shen Tangtang successfully scanned an edible leaf and excitedly sliced it off with her stone knife, she heard Lin Daiyu’s delighted voice ring out.
“Tangtang! What are you doing over this way? Perfect—it’s getting late, let’s head back and rest!”
Hearing Lin Daiyu’s voice genuinely threw Shen Tangtang for a loop. Talk about inescapable fate; she took a completely different route, yet still managed to run right into them. She distinctly remembered glancing back earlier and watching them head in the exact opposite direction.
“Ah-ha, what a coincidence, Daiyu-jie! Never figured I’d bump into you out here.”
Tucking the leaf in her hand into her sack, Shen Tangtang ambled over.
Damn it all. As expected of the supporting female lead and the actual protagonist; she really couldn’t compete with plot armor.
Lin Daiyu had already stuffed half a burlap sack with leaves, pulling in an even bigger haul than yesterday—no wonder she was talking about heading back to rest.
She shot a glance at Bai Yanjun’s sack: also half-full.
So she was the only one lagging behind… oh wait, her actual haul was way better anyway.
“Ahem, yeah, it really is getting late, and the sun’s scorching. Let’s go find some shade to hide in before we fry out here!”
With that, Shen Tangtang hoisted her sack and took the lead, marching at the front.
Lin Daiyu and Bai Yanjun trailed behind her, exchanging a quick look as they silently communicated their shared thoughts. Shen Tangtang’s wildly expressive face from a moment ago had nearly convinced them she was about to snap and bite their heads off, yet here they were, back to normal.
Lin Daiyu smiled softly, hefting her sack as she hurried to keep up with Shen Tangtang’s pace.
“Tangtang, how’d you do today? Run into any danger?”
“Oh, you bet I did! I ran into a massive mutant python over that way just now—almost didn’t make it back.”
“Seriously?! Oh thank goodness you’re okay.”
“Pure luck. The second I spotted it, I bolted. Good thing it didn’t chase after me, otherwise Daiyu-jie, you’d be out here crying at my funeral.”
“Pffft, bite your tongue, don’t talk nonsense.”
“Shen Tangtang, do you ever stop making up stories? If there were really a mutant python out there, you think you’d still be standing here?”
Bai Yanjun’s voice cut in abruptly.
Shen Tangtang didn’t break her stride, barely sparing him the energy of a response. Surviving the blazing sun had already drained most of her stamina. She had to use some wild story to keep Lin Daiyu from wandering over there—what was her crime, exactly? Was she supposed to blurt out, Hey, there’s a mercenary squad actively clearing a reclamation zone over that way, you guys should run right into the danger zone too?
Get real. Judging by how high-strung and paranoid those mercenaries had acted, whatever was hidden over there was a lot more serious than just a sweet potato patch. She wasn’t about to let Lin Daiyu walk straight into a death trap, and she certainly wasn’t going to leak that kind of sensitive intel herself.
As for why the mercenaries hadn’t posted guards at the perimeter, how was she supposed to know?
“Daiyu-jie, I’m thirsty. I don’t feel like talking.”
“Right, let’s save our breath. We’ll rest as soon as we get to a spot.”
Noticing the pale pallor of Shen Tangtang’s face, Lin Daiyu said with a sympathetic tone, completely ignoring the dark, brooding expression on Bai Yanjun’s face.
No matter how you looked at it, Shen Tangtang was the best friend who had grown up alongside her; Bai Yanjun, whom she had only known for a single week, simply couldn’t compare.
When they reached the shady spot where they had rested yesterday, they found the golden patch of tree shade already occupied by a group of other scavengers.
Shen Tangtang simply plonked herself down right on the spot, refusing to walk another step.
This area was shaded enough for now; once the sun shifted later, they’d just have to move along with it.
Lin Daiyu spotted the situation ahead as well and simply sat down right where she stood, following Shen Tangtang’s lead.
Only Bai Yanjun flickered a look of hesitation across his face before awkwardly settling down right next to Lin Daiyu.
Shen Tangtang didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with the male lead’s high-maintenance fussiness. After sitting down to catch her breath for a moment, she unhooked her canteen from her pack and took long, deep gulps of water.
The canteen held two catties of plain boiled water—her entire daily allotment of hydration—which was why she had forced herself to endure the thirst earlier. Only after resting could the body absorb water without putting unnecessary strain on the organs.
Cardiac arrest had left a massive psychological scar on her; she had zero desire to die of a sudden heart attack a second time, and heaven only knew if she’d get a third lease on life.
Beside her, Lin Daiyu took dainty, tiny sips from her own canteen, nibbling on the leaves she had foraged that morning one small bite at a time.
Since Shen Tangtang had successfully found her own food today, Lin Daiyu hadn’t even considered offering her a share.
Every single mouthful of food was precious, and even best friends couldn’t afford handouts every single day.
Shen Tangtang picked up her own foraged sweet potato leaf and began chewing on it slowly.
Perhaps because it had dried out a bit in the sun, the leaf wasn’t nearly as juicy or crisp as fresh ones.
Luckily, Tangtang still had a strong, healthy set of teeth—the bite had a surprisingly satisfying, chewy texture to it.