Tang Li Yue stared at the spotless apartment, a sense of satisfaction washing over her—but not enough to drown out the rumble of her stomach. All the scrubbing, dusting, and organizing had taken its toll. How long had she been cleaning? Too long, apparently, because she hadn't eaten yet, and her stomach was making that fact known with some serious grumbling.
However, there was one monumental hurdle standing in her way: cooking.
Back in the Central Plains, Tang Li Yue had never needed to cook. She had servants for that. She could whip up a poison in seconds, sure, but food? Edible food? That was another story. She had no desire to end up like Li Yue, the previous owner of this body, who had ended it all by...not eating poison but simply being miserable.
She frowned, remembering something from Li Yue's memories. "Ah, right… there's that."
Li Yue wasn't much better in the kitchen, it turned out. But she had a magical workaround for her lack of culinary skills: food delivery. A few taps on a mysterious rectangular device called a "phone," and voila! Food appeared at your doorstep. It was like having servants without the hassle of people.
They really should have food deliveries in the Central Plains. Bah! Those long-winded scholars and cunning merchant should have thought of this already. She thought in ridicule.
Tang Li Yue fumbled through her bag until she found Li Yue's phone, and using her inherited memories, she ordered a feast: roast duck, braised beef ribs, spicy crayfish, Cola Wings (whatever those were), and fried chicken, which certainly didn't exist in the Central Plains.
While waiting for the food to arrive, she remembered another minor detail: money. The world hadn't collapsed yet—laws and order were still in place. She needed funds to stockpile resources before the apocalypse hit. With a huff, she stared at the phone, diving deep into Li Yue's memories. Passwords, bank accounts, Alipay… ah, there it was.
It turns out Li Yue had quite the savings. "No wonder she had so many cleaning supplies," Tang Li Yue mused, making a mental note to buy even more. This world had so many wonderful gadgets. Like that bigger box Li Yue used… a laptop, was it? Tang Li Yue figured she could use it to make her apocalypse shopping list.
Pulling out the laptop, she began her research, a little clumsy at first. In her world, when you needed information, you either checked the family archives or bribed an information guild. Here? A few clicks, and boom—unlimited knowledge. And it was free!
"I knew those guilds were a scam charging hundreds of gold for a bit of information. This world really is too good," Tang Li Yue muttered, growing increasingly fond of modern conveniences. "Why does it have to end?"
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of her food. Her stomach growled in anticipation, but then came the embarrassing part—how do you pay the delivery man again? She couldn't remember how to use the app. With a stiff, awkward apology, she handed him cash and shut the door, cheeks burning.
But the food! Oh, the food was divine. If there was one thing she would mourn after the apocalypse, it was the loss of all these dishes. Roast duck, Cola Wings, fried chicken, spicy crayfish—none of these were in the Central Plains. Even worse, she couldn't taste more cuisines because the zombies decided to take over in a month. How tragic!
After her meal, Tang Li Yue got back to business, finalizing her apocalypse survival list. Food was top priority: non-perishables, lightweight, high-energy, and, of course, spotless. She couldn't stand anything dirty going into her mouth. Rice and grains? Naturally. Add quinoa, oats, and millet for variety.
Dried meat and jerky? High protein, lightweight, perfect. Dehydrated and freeze-dried foods were added to the list, too. Water supply issues? No problem. She could always rehydrate them later. Canned goods were also a must—they lasted forever and wouldn't spoil. Pasta and instant noodles were an easy choice for a disaster chef like her.
Next, she added high-energy snacks and bars, mainly for show. She had no intention of revealing her storage ring. She would be asking for death if she did that. Stockpiling snacks would give her the perfect excuse to keep her stash hidden. Oh, and tea leaves. Apocalypse or not, she'd still need to relax. And powdered foods—another marvel of this world.
Water was another concern. Clean water was a must. Tang Li Yue decided to store an entire warehouse of it, if possible. And then there were strange things Li Yue had noted—water filters, purification tablets, solar water distillers. Whatever they were, they were on the list.
Medical supplies were just as important, though she wasn't exactly an expert on medicine. Poisons? Sure. Antibiotics and first-aid kits? Not so much. But Li Yue's notes insisted they were crucial. Gloves, masks, sterilizing alcohol, and disinfectants—those were more up her alley. She'd buy as much as she could carry. And soap. Lots of soap.
She also added tents, sleeping bags, portable stoves, and protective gear. And gasoline. She wasn't sure how to drive a car, but who knew? Gas could always come in handy.
Scrolling through more listings, her eyes landed on a set of exquisite knives. "Oh, I'm definitely getting those," she murmured, adding them to the cart. Any tools that doubled as weapons were an automatic yes.
Then she remembered the vegetables, fruits, and fruit seeds. Plants might not survive the apocalypse, but seeds? Those could last. And if there was ever a chance to grow crops in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, she would be ready.
As the hours ticked by, Tang Li Yue realized she was hooked. Shopping online was addictive! She also planned to go on another spree the next day to fill her storage ring. She decided to check out those large supermarkets and malls. By the time she finished her apocalypse prep, night had fallen.
After a relaxing bath—another wonder of this world, with hot water at the turn of a knob—Tang Li Yue climbed into bed with Sir Edmund Pawtipurr. She sighed contentedly, reflecting on how much her life had changed in just a day. This world was strange, but it had its perks. Still, it wasn't home. The Central Plains were chaotic, but at least they were familiar.
Her life had taken a drastic turn, and with the apocalypse looming, she didn't have the luxury to dwell on it for long. She had a month to prepare. For her and Sir Edmund Pawtipurr, survival came first.