Chapter 029: Receiving Relief Supplies

The government issued a statement rejecting price-gouging by supermarkets and others, panic buying by the public, or the dissemination of panic-inducing statements. Once discovered or reported, political rights will be revoked, and materials will be confiscated.

“The state will distribute relief supplies from December 15th to December 31st. Citizens without a criminal record can use their ID cards and facial recognition at community centers, large supermarkets, and other official outlets to receive a daily free package of supplies, including 2 jin (approximately 1 kilogram) of corn and 2 jin of rice or flour. Only personal facial recognition is supported. If someone picks up on behalf of others, falsely claims, or is found violating regulations, their qualification will be revoked and recorded.”

“Master Kong is providing donations for the ‘Dark Days.’ From December 15th until the end of the Dark Days, under the same conditions, each person can receive a randomly flavored pack of instant noodles per day. Starting at 10:00 a.m. daily, 2 million free packs of instant noodles will be distributed. Line up at major supermarkets for facial recognition pick-up. Each person can receive up to three packs during the Dark Days.”

This day had finally arrived, just like in her previous life. She couldn’t compare these news reports with the ‘Mangkhut’ typhoon anymore.

Back then, everyone thought this was a disaster similar to Typhoon Mangkhut; after a little over a month, it would pass. Students continued attending school, and employees went to work as usual. As for the free supplies distributed by the state, the Jing Shu of her previous life didn’t even have time to collect them and later regretted it deeply. If she had another chance, she would definitely go get them!

Every day, supermarkets are filled with retired elderly people or housewives bringing their children to scan their faces and collect double portions, as well as freelancers and the unemployed.

For a portion of grain worth about ten yuan, most men couldn’t be bothered to line up for it; they would typically just buy a couple of bags of rice or flour to take home. Thrifty women, however, couldn’t resist free items.

The state distributed 4 jin (about 2 kilograms) of grain per person per day for 17 days, equivalent to a two months’ ration for one person. This ensured that everyone had food and also limited purchasing amounts.

Just like withdrawing money from a bank, each person was limited to purchasing no more than 500 yuan worth of various grains per day at supermarkets and grain stores. Multiple small purchases were encouraged, and bulk hoarding that could cause panic and looting or drive up prices was prohibited. Of course, snacks and other meats were not included.

“Let’s go quickly to the supermarket to get some rice,” Grandma Jing said, pulling along Grandpa Jing, who had just finished showing off two sheep. Jing Shu, her father, and her grandparents went together. Jing Shu was a bit excited; in this life, she was finally going to receive the rice, making up for the regrets of her previous life.

They drove to the Aijia Supermarket seven kilometers away. Patrol cars were parked at the entrance, and security guards blocked the doorway. Everyone entering and exiting had to go through security checks and facial recognition with their ID cards. If they had knives, lighters, or other dangerous items, they had to leave them at the security checkpoint and could retrieve them upon exiting.

This eliminated any possibility of troublemakers—Jing Shu gave a thumbs-up.

Although there were many people, the process was quick. On one side, ten cashiers were continuously checking out purchases; on the other side was a warehouse full of pre-packaged grains. Staff members used loudspeakers to repeatedly broadcast the rules, prohibiting private resale, collecting on behalf of others, or multiple collections.

There were five automatic pickup stations, similar to collecting train tickets. After swiping their ID cards and facial recognition, a neatly packaged bag of rice would come out. Staff members stood nearby to assist elderly people who were unfamiliar with the process. After waiting five minutes, it was Jing Shu’s family’s turn.

“Technology is really advancing,” Grandpa Jing said curiously as he swiped his ID card and looked into the camera. The packaged rice and corn popped out from the pickup station, and the collection time was recorded.

Just then, the machine next to them sounded an alarm.

Two staff members immediately approached and began questioning the man’s ID information.

“Sorry, sorry, I grabbed the wrong ID card! This is mine…”

“You’ll have to explain that to the police officers.”

Without further ado, they took the person away. The originally noisy surroundings suddenly quieted down, followed by whispers. The loudspeaker’s message also changed: “Once again, we emphasize that anyone found collecting on behalf of others, falsely claiming, or reselling will have their qualifications revoked! For the disabled or seriously ill, please report to us, and we will deliver them personally!”

The small incident quickly passed, and within five minutes, the supermarket returned to its lively state. Most people who came to collect grain also stocked up on other items. They wouldn’t buy too many items with short shelf lives, but instant noodles were selling well. Therefore, there was no situation where shelves were emptied. Popular items were mostly piled up like mountains, and when they were almost gone, they would be restocked.

The number of people was just slightly more than on weekends. It was nothing like five or six months later, when lining up at 5 a.m. was already too late, and people would line up for days, eating and sleeping there.

Jing Shu would never forget that scene: daytime temperatures over 40°C, dropping to a few degrees at night. She and her father took turns staying at the supermarket entrance to line up. By then, prices had skyrocketed, and the supermarket could only sell a pitifully small amount of old grain.

Most families still had some stored grain, but facing the continuous half-year of Dark Days, with companies like Master Kong announcing production stoppages, no one felt they had enough stored grain.

Moreover, the high temperatures and drought led to many people suffering from heatstroke. Jing’s mother also suffered from heatstroke—it was hard to get medicine or a hospital bed.

Seeing that the supermarket was too crowded and buying things would require a long wait, Jing Shu, her grandmother, and her grandfather returned home with her father. Unfortunately, Jing Shu was late; the free Master Kong instant noodles were gone in less than thirty seconds under the consumption of people nationwide.

That morning, social media were flooded—on one hand, with news of the upcoming Dark Days, and on the other, people discussing getting up early to grab the free Master Kong noodles. Jing Shu estimated she wouldn’t be able to get them. By the time she took the two elderly folks and her father such a long distance, they would be gone.

After returning to the villa, Jing Shu, her grandmother, and her grandfather began today’s task: processing the sheep.

In the south, people prefer hot pot with lamb; in the north, they like roasted lamb—all very delicious. So after butchering, they chopped up the entire sheep and put it in the freezer. Later, they could make lamb noodles or roast lamb buns, and when it got colder, they could stew lamb with carrots… *Slurp*.

They cleaned and cooked the offal to make lamb soup and then froze it. Jing Shu secretly kept a few hot portions in her space to eat as midnight snacks. Now, Jing Shu ate four meals a day; otherwise, she wouldn’t feel full.

They made spicy lamb trotters and saved the intestines to make rice sausages and lung noodles.

They took two legs of lamb, marinated them, and placed them in the heated kang bed-stove that Jing Shu had requested earlier, making “rack meat.” When it was roasted to a golden brown, dripping with oil, crispy on the outside and tender inside, they took it out, sprinkled chili powder and cumin, and lined the sides with sesame-sprinkled flatbreads. In Wucheng, this is called “Nang Pit Meat.”

The rest was made into dried meat, which didn’t sell very well; many fans wanted to eat the golden, roasted Nang Pit Meat.

With the Dark Days approaching, Jing Shu also planned to close her live stream. Although food wouldn’t be scarce in the months before the apocalypse, the main purpose of the live stream was to process food into semifinished or cooked products for more convenient consumption during the apocalypse.

Now, Jing Shu had stored a large amount of cooked food and had also earned quite a bit of money from the live stream. She planned to make some final, crazy purchases with this money.

As for the money she borrowed, Jing Shu didn’t plan to repay it now. After all, repaying now was meaningless. In a few months, money will be worthless. If she repaid the money now, her relatives wouldn’t stock up on supplies, and she couldn’t explain to them to stock up early.

She planned to repay these debts after the apocalypse with food or supplies. Relatives who were willing to help her before the apocalypse would not be disappointed afterward.

The next morning, Grandpa Jing brought out a beef cow to show off, asking the live-stream viewers if they had ever seen a muscular cow. While patting the cow’s thigh, he said with satisfaction, “This beef shank will definitely be delicious.”

At that time, cows were not considered valuable. Some people, for attention, often show off hundreds or thousands of pigs online. Others flaunted warehouses full of food and supplies. Before the apocalypse arrived, this was normal; no one believed the apocalypse was imminent.

Jing Shu shook her head; it was time to wrap things up and lie low.

Jing Shu kept the dairy cow at the villa for milk production. It had given birth to a male and a female calf, which Jing Shu kept in her space for breeding. The remaining bull could now be slaughtered for meat.