Chapter 21: Strange Knowledge Has Increased Again

“There is, there’s something good...”

Zhong Xiaoshan hurried into the bedroom, walked straight to the vanity, and pulled out a gift box from her bag: “This is a Lancôme limited-edition gift set brought back from Europe by Director Hu—worth over ten thousand yuan...”

Without waiting for a reply, she shoved it into Zheng Xinyu’s arms and grinned sheepishly: “Your skin is already great, but no woman ever complains about better skin, right?”

“Wow, thank you.”

She truly didn’t like Zhong Xiaoshan, but Zheng Xinyu had no resistance to the golden Lancôme gift box in her arms—the price tag still read 1,999 euros; with her previous income, she could never have afforded such skincare.

Yet before she could even warm the box, it flew into Zhang Su’s hands.

“What use is this stuff now? Unless we get rescued and order is fully restored in a short time, then...”

Zhang Su tossed the gift box onto the bed: “Otherwise, it’s worth less than two bottles of mineral water!”

“But... I think this is really nice.”

Zheng Xinyu, under Zhang Su’s piercing gaze, smiled nervously as she took the box back, then clutched it tightly to her chest, still uneasy.

Zhang Su couldn’t help but shake his head, but he didn’t refuse Zheng Xinyu’s request again—after all, they were under the same roof, and he should at least consider her feelings a little.

“Fine, then this gift box... counts as half a box of rice.”

“What...”

Zhong Xiaoshan was overjoyed when Zhang Su agreed to take the Lancôme box, as if she could already smell the fragrant rice—until she realized she’d only gotten half.

“After tax, it’s still worth over fifteen thousand! Bro, half a self-heating rice box is only ten or so yuan—this ratio... are you serious?”

Zhang Su’s gaze returned to the vanity, and he shook his head at Zhong Xiaoshan: “Times are different now—you can’t judge today’s value by yesterday’s standards. You say the gift box is worth over ten thousand, and self-heating rice is twenty or thirty yuan—so how many months’ worth of meals is that? Can you eat it?”

“No... you’re right...”

Zhong Xiaoshan sighed helplessly. Thinking of self-heating rice, her hunger surged again—like ten thousand ants burrowing inside her belly, a torment that was unbearable.

“Then... bro, just take whatever you want. Help yourself.”

Zhong Xiaoshan had fully surrendered—there was no other choice. She was starving.

“Self-reliance brings plenty.” Zhang Su muttered, pulling open the vanity drawer—and froze.

“I’m really impressed!”

After rummaging through, Zhang Su stared at the drawer filled to the brim with Biyuntao: “Is your Director Hu incompetent or superhuman? Even a stud boar couldn’t use up this much!”

Zheng Xinyu crept closer, peeked into the drawer, and wore a strange expression, smirking silently from the side.

“That... uh, actually Biyuntao has other uses too—in emergencies, it can really help!”

Zhong Xiaoshan spoke softly from beside them.

“Huh?” Zhang Su laughed bitterly, gesturing to her: “I’m clearly ignorant—go on, enlighten me.”

“I’m not making this up, bro. Besides its normal use, Biyuntao can be used outdoors to start a fire—just fill it with water, tie it into a knot, and it becomes a magnifying glass. With sunlight, you can ignite it!”

Zhong Xiaoshan explained seriously: “Also, in today’s chaos, your long hair might get in the way. If you can’t find a hair tie, you can use this as an emergency substitute.”

“Plus, you can use it to store water—Biyuntao is far stronger than people think. Normally, it can hold two or three liters, more than a big soda bottle. It can also serve as shoe covers, sealable bags, and yes—even as a tourniquet. It can save lives!”

Zhang Su and Zheng Xinyu exchanged glances, both staring at each other with expressions of: “You can actually do that?”

“Where did you learn all this?” Zhang Su asked Zhong Xiaoshan.

Zhong Xiaoshan rubbed her hands: “I picked it up from the hiking club—some basic outdoor survival skills. Nothing special.”

As a senior nurse, she needed high-end hobbies to cultivate an air of refinement—rich people didn’t like common, vulgar types.

“Fine, fine, fine. Let’s say all those uses are legit—but they’re for wilderness survival. If you get outside, there are piles of these in the unmanned adult stores downstairs. What value do they have now?”

Zhang Su raised an eyebrow—he’d learned something new, but Biyuntao wasn’t that essential.

“Of course there is! If the bro wants to have some fun, it’ll work right away!”

Zhong Xiaoshan had given up all pretense.

Zheng Xinyu rolled her eyes so hard they nearly flew out of her head. She thought she was crude enough—until she met this sister.

At this moment, she couldn’t possibly put herself in Zhong Xiaoshan’s shoes—she wasn’t starving that badly.

“You actually said that out loud? Impressive. Fine, I accept it—another half box. Now you’ve got a full box of self-heating rice!”

Zhang Su turned to Zheng Xinyu: “There are plastic bags over there. Pack all this up and take it back.”

Zheng Xinyu glared at Zhang Su with a strange expression, clearly thinking something.

Glare all you want—her hands moved fast.

“One...” Zhong Xiaoshan’s heart ached—after all her effort, she’d only gotten one box?

She gritted her teeth, walked to the vanity, and pulled out a set of keys from her bag: “Bro, I have a Hilander I just picked up three months ago. Whether rescue comes or not, I’m giving it to you—exchange for twenty boxes of self-heating rice and ten liters of water. Deal?”

“Hilander?” Zhang Su rubbed his chin and shook his head: “An SUV that can’t even cross a cross-axle? Useless. No.”

“You!”

Zhong Xiaoshan nearly passed out, dizziness washing over her again. She gripped the vanity, teeth clenched: “Fifteen boxes, eight liters of water!”

Zhang Su saw Zheng Xinyu had finished packing, and said to Zhong Xiaoshan: “Wait here. I’ll bring you the self-heating rice.”

Seeing he wouldn’t budge, Zhong Xiaoshan panicked, blocking the door with her arm: “Ten boxes, five liters of water! Please, consider it—this car cost over three hundred thousand!”

Zhang Su looked at the starving Zhong Xiaoshan. Their eyes met. He sighed: “I’m just too soft-hearted. Fine, I’ll do one good deed. I can’t give you much rice—I’ll give you three instant noodles, one pack of Luosifen, and two liters of water. Hand over the keys. Deal?”

“This... I can’t cook!”

Zhong Xiaoshan didn’t care about the quantity—she only cared about cooking.

“We have gas. You can use our pots, pans, bowls, and chopsticks for free.”

“Deal!”

Zhong Xiaoshan handed over the car keys with a decisive slap against Zhang Su’s solid chest, her eyes suddenly bright, burning with intensity: “Promise me—if you leave this place, take me with you!”

Zhang Su frowned slightly, feeling the cold pressure of her palm on his chest. His dry throat produced a faint sound: “We’ll see.”

Zhong Xiaoshan wore a strange smile, then slid down, slumping against the doorframe, silent and limp—like a man who’d just finished a long, satisfying session and refused to move.

Recommended! Dear readers, keep following, please!

(End of Chapter)