Liu Jianhua had long coveted that old house. Any trace of guilt he’d felt during the divorce had long since been worn away by the passage of time. He stubbornly believed that since he’d contributed money back then, he was entitled to a share of the house. Besides, the rest of the Jiang family was gone—only Jiang Le remained. Surely, if the boy had any sense of family ties, he wouldn’t deny his own father?

He was convinced that Jiang Le was just a hot-headed youngster who didn’t understand things yet. Once he grew older, he would naturally come to appreciate the value of family ties and understand the hardships his father had endured.

This year, rumors had even spread that a new shopping mall was to be built near the old house, and there was a possibility that the neighborhood where the old house stood might be demolished. Whether or not the neighborhood was demolished, the construction of the new mall was a certainty. When that time came, the old house would either be demolished, and he’d strike it rich, or property prices would rise further. Regardless of the outcome, the mere thought of the money involved made Liu Jianhua feel as if a cat were clawing at his heart, leaving him restless and unable to sit still.

He’d gone to bed early last night, not expecting a reply from Jiang Le. But when he opened his eyes this morning and saw Jiang Le’s text, he nearly jumped out of bed, terrified that Jiang Le had already found another buyer and handed over that fortune to someone else.

He hurriedly dialed the number, torn between wanting to scold his foolish son—asking what difference there was between selling the house now and tearing up a winning lottery ticket—and holding back his true feelings, afraid he might miss out on this windfall.

His second son, Liu Tianyang—born from his second marriage and only half a year younger than Jiang Le—stood beside him, his heart racing with anxiety after Liu Jianhua gave him a brief explanation of the situation. He had heard his father complain about this house, which had been swindled away by his ex-wife, ever since he was a child, and he had long felt that his father’s property should be reclaimed. His father now had only him as a son—wouldn’t it all be his if they got it back?

“Dad, first figure out a way to get him to transfer the house to you. Then…” 

“Shh, it’s connecting. Don’t say anything yet.”

Jiang Le let the phone ring for over ten seconds before slowly picking it up. Liu Jianhua’s anxious voice came through the receiver immediately: “Xiao Le, why on earth are you suddenly selling the house?”

“I need money,” Jiang Le said flatly. “I plan to settle down in Hai City. The old house is just sitting there unused—might as well cash it in for a down payment.” 

“If you need money, just ask Dad!”

“Oh?” Jiang Le snorted derisively. “Are you going to cover the down payment for me?”

Liu Jianhua was momentarily speechless, then stammered, “Let’s not talk about the down payment for now, but you could sell the house to me.” 

Fearing Jiang Le might grow suspicious, he quickly added, “The house is a bit old, but it holds special meaning for me. Rather than selling it cheaply to a stranger, it’s better to keep it in the family—family members know how to cherish things. It’s just a transfer within the family; the house will still be in our hands. You can come back to live here whenever you want—it’ll be just like it was never sold.”

It sounded too good to be true. Home? Whose home? Jiang Le’s home had been empty—just him—ever since his mother passed away. Jiang Le forced back a cold laugh and pretended to be swayed: “Really?”

“Would Dad lie to you?” Liu Jianhua feigned sincerity, but his tone shifted abruptly. “But you know, selling to family—shouldn’t the price be a bit lower than for an outsider? Or maybe just think of it as Dad holding onto it for you for now.”

“One million and two hundred thousand. That’s exactly what I’m short of for the down payment,” Jiang Le quoted the price. “Don’t even mention the rest.”

Currently, the old house is listed with an agent, patiently awaiting a buyer, with a market price of around 1.3 million. However, there was no guarantee when the funds would be received. Although 1.2 million was already significantly below market value, it clearly still stung Liu Jianhua, who had never truly intended to pay from the start.

“Well… Dad might not be able to come up with that much right away. See if you can…” Liu Jianhua tried to haggle. 

“That’s your problem. It makes no difference to me who I sell it to.” Jiang Le couldn’t be bothered with small talk and hung up immediately.

He knew Liu Jianhua all too well; there was no way this man would stand by and watch the house fall into someone else’s hands. His goal had been achieved; there was no point in saying more.

Jiang Le drove away from the agricultural wholesale market. He didn’t go far before turning toward his next destination: an ordinary suburban market not too far from the wholesale market. Here, in addition to the usual vegetable vendors, some local farmers brought their own produce to sell, and it was common to see chicks and ducklings for sale as well.

It was just after the market had opened. In addition to stalls selling vegetables, seafood, and meat, there were noodle shops, braised food stalls, grain and oil shops, and spice stores lining both sides, all crammed together, making the small market bustling with activity.

However, the goods in these market stalls have already passed through several middlemen, making the prices unsuitable for bulk purchasing and stockpiling—they were not part of Jiang Le’s shopping plan.

Jiang Le wandered around the market for a few minutes before finding a farmer in a corner selling chicks and ducklings he had hatched himself. The pale yellow little creatures were crammed into a bamboo basket, chirping and quacking nonstop.

Jiang Le bought ten chicks and ten ducklings, and the vendor packed them into a large basket he’d prepared earlier. The chicks and ducklings huddled together in the basket, staring at Jiang Le with their dark, beady eyes.

Jiang Le poked at their soft downy feathers with his fingers in response.

Fish fries were hard to find at the market. Most of the vendors here were middlemen, selling fish that weighed at least a pound each—and surprisingly, almost all of them were Grade 1.

Jiang Le scanned the area but didn’t see anything suitable. Just as he was about to leave, he passed a child sitting in the corner holding a small bucket.

“Fish this small aren’t even enough to fill a tooth gap,” an old woman remarked offhandedly to amuse the child, but her comment made Jiang Le stop in his tracks.

Just then, a tiny fish in the bucket leaped with all its might, splashing water all over the little boy’s face. He clung stubbornly to the bucket: “Grandpa said the money from selling these is my pocket money. I caught them all myself.”

Jiang Le walked closer and saw a dozen or so small fish, each about the length of an index finger, swimming in the bucket. Though they were Grade 0, they were full of vitality. Although Jiang Le wasn’t an expert on fish species, their appearance suggested they would grow into common varieties found at the market.

Jiang Le perked up. He crouched down in front of the boy: “How much are these fish?”

“Ten yuan a bucket!” The boy’s eyes lit up with anticipation. Standing beside him was an elderly man, presumably the parent who had accompanied him. The old man explained, “Someone else caught them in a net, but they thought they were too small, so they gave them to him to play with.”

Jiang Le nodded. “I’ll take the whole lot. Cash or bank transfer?”

The system currently allows for raising only a limited number of fish, so it wouldn’t make much sense to make a special trip to the fish fry wholesale market for such a small quantity.

“Cash, cash! I don’t even have a cell phone yet,” the child said excitedly.

The deal was done. The child grabbed a plastic bag from a nearby stall and, as Jiang Le had requested, dumped the fish and water inside. Money was exchanged for goods; both were happy.

Jiang Le carried the items back to his car. Seeing no one around, he slipped into the farm space right there in the vehicle, eager to toss these seedlings into the farm to earn experience points.

He placed the poultry and fish fry in their designated areas, and the system immediately updated the counts. The number of chickens and ducks was just right, but there was one extra fish fry. Jiang Le casually tossed the extra one into the system’s built-in compost bin.

The compost bin resembled a common public trash can. If the input couldn’t be broken down into nutrients needed by crops, it would be rejected; if it could be decomposed, a “Decomposing…” progress bar would appear at the top of the bin, just as it did after he’d added the fish fry.

The poultry area was automatically divided into chicken and duck pens, and along with the small fish pond, all displayed a “Needs Feeding” indicator. A health progress bar also hovered above each animal’s head—going too long without food would cause the health value to drop, and if it fell too low, the system would deem the animal dead.

Jiang Le made a note to buy feed and fish food, then shifted his attention to the land he had sown the day before.

Overnight, specks of tender green had already sprouted from the dark soil. The fast-growing seeds truly lived up to their reputation, and this speed brought a surge of joy to Jiang Le’s heart.

He stood contentedly on the field’s edge for a long while. If the system hadn’t prohibited it, he would have loved to sleep right there by the vibrant field. In his previous life, Jiang Le had tried to stay in the system space permanently, but every time he fell asleep, he was forcibly teleported back to reality. He wondered if this rule might change after the farm was upgraded.

Still reluctant to leave, Jiang Le got up and walked toward the warehouse.

The fruits and vegetables he had purchased that morning had already been automatically stored by the system. The electronic display on the warehouse door clearly listed the quantities of various produce, organized by basket.

Stepping inside, he saw basket after basket of produce stacked in layers by the system in an incredible manner, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, the baskets weren’t crammed tightly together but maintained a subtle distance between them, preventing them from toppling over while maximizing space utilization to the absolute limit. Consequently, although the current inventory is substantial, it occupies only a tiny fraction of the warehouse’s space, leaving Jiang Le plenty of room to maneuver.

Today’s procurement is just the beginning; the fruits and vegetables alone are not enough. In addition, there are essential staples like grains, oils, rice, and flour, as well as large quantities of fresh meat and indispensable seasonings such as oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and sugar.

Beyond food, daily necessities like clothing and warm gear also needed to be stockpiled in certain quantities—quantities that Jiang Le intended to be enough to last him a lifetime. Only if the system were later upgraded, the warehouse’s storage capacity, and he still had spare funds, would Jiang Le have the leeway to stockpile additional supplies.

Fortunately, with several months still remaining, he had time to iron out these details that were difficult to plan thoroughly in the short term. Leaving the farm, Jiang Le found a bustling breakfast shop next to the vegetable market.

Fried dough sticks swirled in the boiling oil, turning from white to golden, then were scooped out, glistening and fragrant as they drained; steamed buns, mantou, and flower rolls filled with various fillings were stacked layer upon layer in the steamers, shrouded in mist; snow-white soy milk, sweetened to each customer’s preference, exuded a fresh bean aroma alongside the silky tofu pudding. All of this mingles with the chili oil and aged vinegar on the diners’ tables, along with the distinct aromas drifting in from neighboring shops, weaving together into a rich, alluring scent of everyday life that wafts straight into Jiang Le’s nostrils.

Jiang Le ordered a steamer basket of dumplings, a steamer basket of meat buns, and a large bowl of sweet soy milk, then sat down at the table to tuck in. The buns and dumplings were certainly not pre-made chain store products, as the owner was deftly rolling out the dough and wrapping them fresh right there at the counter. With one bite, the warm broth burst in his mouth, carrying the aroma of the fresh meat filling. He devoured everything in a flash, and that gnawing hunger was finally completely banished.

The taste was truly excellent, and what made it even more special was that everything was made fresh by hand. Jiang Le placed an additional order with the owner for a few trays of buns and a large bag of fried dough sticks. It was a substantial amount, but not enough to attract any strange looks.

Back in the car, Jiang Le stored the prepared foods in his system storage as usual. When it came to stockpiling ready-to-eat food, he planned to proceed like an ant moving house—storing a little at a time, with no specific goal in mind, but simply aiming to fill his warehouse as much as possible before the apocalypse struck. After all, this kind of food was primarily for satisfying his appetite and serving as an emergency supply for times when cooking wasn’t convenient. Naturally, its importance in his stockpile didn’t carry the same weight as other supplies.

Since he had gotten up at dawn, by the time Jiang Le finished all this, the day had barely begun.