Apocalypse: I Can Upgrade Everything

Chapter 205: The Village of Scarcity

A perimeter of crude wooden fencing encircled the entirety of Shenxiang Village.

A cool, high-altitude breeze swept through the settlement, sharp and invigorating. Looking out at the clouds drifting just a few yards away gave one the dizzying sense of standing atop the world. But it was the sight of the vegetable plots that truly arrested the senses. Verdant rows of greens and vibrant yellow squashes made everyone in the convoy instinctively swallow their saliva.

Not far off, a solitary apple tree stood, its branches heavy with fruit. The apples were a brilliant, defiant red. Even Chen Ye, who had never harbored a particular fondness for apples, felt a primal pang of hunger. Since the Apocalypse began, fresh vegetables had been a rarity; fruit was a forgotten myth.

Adjacent to the garden lay a patch of ripening wheat, its golden stalks swaying in the breeze like a miniature sea. A handful of villagers labored in the rows, their movements synchronized with the rhythmic, vitriolic shouting of a cantankerous old man.

Chen Ye clicked his tongue. The old-timer possessed a voice like a foghorn, brimming with vigor. Curiously, those he berated didn’t push back; they bowed and scraped, their faces etched with profound respect.

Big Head Village Chief led the group through the settlement, playing the part of the gracious host. To Chen Ye and the others, the scene felt like a fever dream from a different lifetime. The villagers wore a hodgepodge of tattered, grime-stained clothing, yet their spirits seemed remarkably intact. Everyone had a purpose.

A few scrawny chickens and ducks pecked at the dry earth near the houses. They were skeletal things, listless and gray. In a world of scarcity, if the people weren’t eating, the livestock certainly weren’t getting a feast. The farm and the vegetable plots, while impressive, clearly struggled to sustain the village’s population.

“We’ve pushed the land as far as it can go,” the Chief explained, his tone hovering between pride and exhaustion. “We organize regular scavenging runs to the surface, but the pickings are slim. Most of what we find is rotted or decades past its expiration.”

He gestured toward the fields. “If it weren’t for Professor Liu, we would have starved into the soil months ago. He’s the only reason this village still breathes.”

The Chief prattled on, sharing the minutiae of village life with a disarming, almost aggressive sincerity. He seemed to have no interest in keeping secrets.

That evening, Shenxiang Village hosted a modest welcome banquet. Under current conditions, a “grand” feast was a mathematical impossibility, but the occasion carried a weight that transcended the menu.

Chu Che, playing the role of the benevolent leader, donated 30 lbs of smoked fish, 50 lbs of expired rice, and 50 lbs of expired flour to the cause. To seal the deal, he produced two bottles of white liquor—high-proof Baijiu.

The Village Chief’s eyes nearly vanished into slits of joy at the sight of the alcohol. In the scavenging hierarchy, rice and flour were the priorities; luxury goods like cigarettes and spirits were often ignored or lost, making them more valuable than gold in the new economy. Even an esteemed Village Chief hadn’t smelled the bite of liquor in a long, long time.

The banquet took place in the central square, under the open sky. Villagers dragged out mismatched tables and chairs, and the community’s “elites” gathered. The common folk, of course, were relegated to the sidelines, watching the meager festivities with hungry eyes.

The ceremony was orchestrated by the Chief’s assistant, Xiao Zheng. As the sun dipped below the horizon, a woman in an evening gown stepped into the center of the square.

A wave of hushed, frantic whispering erupted from the convoy’s survivors.

“My god… is that Su Mansheng? It is! It’s really her!”

“Who? The name sounds familiar.”

“Are you kidding me? She was the shut-in sensation! The Goddess of the Otaku! Haven’t you ever heard Midnight Voice?”

“The radio host? The one from the internet?”

“That’s her! I can’t believe it. I’m being hosted by Su Mansheng. I can die happy now.”

“Dream on. She’s not here for you. She’s here for Chen Ye and Captain Chu. A woman like that doesn’t even see the mud on your boots.”

Chen Ye hadn’t recognized her at first, but he noted her poise and the melodic, professional cadence of her voice. She had the refined aura of a top-tier broadcaster. Once the crowd mentioned the radio program, it clicked.

Before the Apocalypse, in an era dominated by rapid-fire short videos, her radio show had been a freak anomaly. Midnight Voice had captivated millions because of her vocal range. She was a “voice-acting monster”—capable of switching from a sultry, dominant elder sister to a playful loli, an old man, or a youth with chilling expert precision.

When she finally did a face-reveal on social media, she broke the internet. Most vocal chameleons were a disappointment in the flesh, but Su Mansheng was a one-in-a-million beauty. Now, that legendary figure was standing in the middle of a village built on an elephant.

The dinner itself was a revelation. While the dishes were simple home-style fare, the novelty of hot food was a luxury. The villagers eyed the fish with naked greed, while the convoy members—who had lived on nothing but smoked fish for days—found themselves captivated by the greens.

Chen Ye’s eyes locked onto a plate of roasted potatoes. They were earthy and rich, far superior to the shriveled tubers they had scavenged in Longevity Village. A dish of stir-fried lettuce stems followed, fresh and crisp.

Then came the centerpiece: a small bowl of rice for each guest.

It wasn’t the yellowed, musty, expired grain they were used to. It was new rice. The aroma was so sweet, so evocative of a lost world, that it brought a stinging moisture to the eyes of the survivors.

The portions were small—refined, almost miniature—but they were presented with a dignity that made the meal feel like a royal feast.

While the others ate, Chu Che and the Big Head Village Chief were locked in deep conversation. Information was the currency of the night.

“Captain Chu, did your group pass through Dawu City?” the Chief asked.

“We did. Did your village venture that far?”

The Chief’s face clouded with a flicker of genuine terror. “We skirted the edges. There’s a titan in the Wu River—a serpent of impossible scale. If it weren’t for the protection of the Divine Elephant, we would have been swallowed whole.”

Chen Ye pricked up his ears, his dinner forgotten. The others fell silent as well, leaning in. They had only heard Chen Ye’s brief account of the beast and seen the distant, world-shaking ripples as they fled the city.

“The Chief encountered the serpent too?”

“Indeed,” the old man sighed. “Our village lacks everything—medicine, tools, basic hygiene. A few weeks ago, we made a desperate push toward Dawu City to scavenge. Master Zhan and Master Da Shan took a team of villagers into the fog…”