Chapter 9: Huh? A Fly-Ridden Hole-in-the-Wall?

With the power of money on her side, the shop owner quickly promised she could get everything done.

After stocking up on rice, flour, grains, and oil, Jiang Yan headed to a larger dried goods and seafood store in the market.

She’d need fresh ingredients later, but since she was already here, she figured she might as well grab some dried goods for emergencies.

Glass noodles, dried tofu sticks, vermicelli, wood ear mushrooms, shiitake mushrooms, tofu skin, kelp, seaweed, nori, dried shrimp, white fungus, tea tree mushrooms, dried scallops, dried abalone, dried sea cucumber, dried oysters, dried clams, handmade dried fish, grilled eel slices, dried squid—she bought five thousand kilos of each.

Wild matsutake, morels, bamboo fungus, porcini—her personal favorites—she swept up a thousand kilos each with a wave of her hand.

After the apocalypse, wild mushrooms like these would be impossible to find.

As for the cultivated ones, the taste just couldn’t compare to the wild varieties.

Wild mushrooms tasted amazing, but the price was “amazing” too—she blew through several million in one go.

Honestly, she wanted to buy even more, but the store simply couldn’t supply that much.

For ready-to-eat dishes like spicy crayfish, thirteen-spice crayfish, garlic vermicelli scallops, pickled fish, pepper chicken with pork tripe, Sichuan pepper chicken, fish maw chicken, and so on, she bought five thousand portions each.

Better to overstock than risk running out!

After all, if she didn’t spend the money now, in a few months it would be nothing but worthless paper.

Since it wasn’t wild mushroom season, she planned to visit the wholesale market later and buy some frozen wild mushrooms to stash away.

She loved spicy food and enjoyed cooking herself, so she bought a hundred kilos each of dried chilies, Sichuan peppercorns, tsaoko, patchouli, star anise, fennel, black pepper, and all sorts of other spices.

There was also a shop in the market selling instant foods.

Some small eateries had terrible environments and were tucked away in obscure corners, commonly known as “fly restaurants”—the kind only locals could find.

Given her stockpile, she could easily eat fresh food all the time. In fact, her plan was to buy fresh fruits and vegetables in bulk, and in a few days, order a bunch of gourmet meals from five-star hotels and famous old restaurants.

For meat, eggs, and dairy, she still planned to focus on fresh supplies, so she didn’t buy much cured meat.

Also, her original plan to view apartments with Du Zitong today would have to be postponed until tomorrow.

In her previous life, even though she’d had billions in assets, thanks to her malicious stepfather Song Deming’s schemes and the sudden onset of the apocalypse, she’d ended up losing a hand, starving to death, and ultimately becoming a meal for his family.

As a food blogger, she didn’t just visit Michelin or Black Pearl restaurants—she also loved exploring hidden street stalls in the most unexpected corners.

But sometimes, she’d get a craving for instant noodles or snail rice noodles, and with so much uncertainty about life after the apocalypse, she figured better safe than sorry.

It’s true what they say: when you’re gone, your money’s still here.

Now that she had both money and storage space, she’d be a fool not to buy.

She shopped nonstop, swiping her card until it was nearly 4 p.m.

Coffee was her favorite—cold brew, caramel macchiato, velvet latte, coconut latte, and all sorts of canned coffees and beans—she bought eight thousand of each.

There was no way she could finish it all in several lifetimes, but hey, she was rich and could do as she pleased.

This time around, she wouldn’t let tragedy repeat itself.

There was also a shop in the wholesale market specializing in cured meats—ham, bacon, preserved pork, sausages, beef jerky—she bought three thousand kilos of each.

After that, she hit the beverage shop and the ready-to-eat food store.

No time like the present—she planned to sweep through those after dinner.

She also bought a thousand boxes of hot pot soup base—spicy, tom yum, clear broth, mushroom, herbal, beef tallow, vegetable oil—she got them all.

“Oh, thank you, boss. I’ll go check it out,” Jiang Yan said, turning and hurrying toward the alley.

Cola, Sprite, orange juice, coconut milk—five thousand of each. Electrolyte drinks, all kinds of “Dong-something” leaf drinks, coconut water, every flavor of soda water—eight thousand of each.

“And the lady boss there has a real attitude, just so you know,” the shop owner added as a warning.

She didn’t skip the snack shop either—every flavor of chips, rice crackers, corn crisps, sunflower seeds, watermelon seeds, dried tofu, her beloved marinated chicken feet, pickled chicken feet, spicy lotus root, pork jerky, duck neck, beef jerky, shredded beef, prunes, hawthorn, seaweed, sesame crisps, cookies, all kinds of chocolate, energy-boosting Snickers, candies—five thousand of each.

She also noticed that right next to the grain and oil wholesale market was a traditional Chinese medicine wholesale market.

The shop owner strode to the stall entrance and enthusiastically pointed her in the right direction:

“Yes, there’s a beef rice noodle shop tucked away in the corner of that alley up ahead. The place is a dump, but the food is amazing—it’s been there for decades. But the lady boss doesn’t do dinner service—she closes up before four, so if you want to go, you’d better hurry!”

With that in mind, Jiang Yan headed inside.

“Boss, are there any good little eateries around here?” Jiang Yan asked, sending the warehouse address to the cured meat shop owner.

She didn’t buy too many hot pot bases or spices, so she just loaded them onto her small truck.

She hadn’t had time to eat all day and was starving, but she felt a strange mix of excitement and security.

The odd thing was, these little places always managed to make the most ordinary food taste extraordinary.

Dace with black bean sauce, fermented tofu, all kinds of Lao Gan Ma, Pixian chili bean paste, soybean paste, sweet flour sauce, chopped chili, pickled dishes, kimchi, pickled cucumbers, pickled radish, preserved mustard, luncheon meat, canned yellow peaches, canned lychees, mixed fruit cocktail—she bought five thousand boxes of each.

Salted duck eggs, century eggs, cured duck—she didn’t really like those, but bought five hundred kilos anyway, just in case.

She realized she was going a bit overboard with the stockpiling, but—whatever!

After leaving the dried goods store, she headed to the pickles and condiments shop.

Nuts were her favorite—pistachios, macadamias, thin-shelled walnuts, almonds, pecans, Brazil nuts, cashews, chestnuts, hickory nuts, ginkgo nuts—original, wasabi, charcoal-roasted, caramel—five thousand of each flavor.

Every kind of instant noodles, instant rice noodles, snail noodles, spicy and sour noodles, self-heating rice, self-heating hot pot, sausage, marinated eggs—ten thousand boxes of each.

Strangely, whenever these little eateries moved or renovated, their food just didn’t taste the same anymore.

And almost all of them had a boss lady with a fiery temper and attitude—a standard feature by now.

But for foodies on the hunt for hidden gems, a boss lady with a wild temper was just part of the charm—everyone just laughed it off and took it in stride."