CHAPTER 23: FOR JUST $998, YOU CAN FEEL SO GOOD YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO BREATHE.

"We should wear gloves for the livestream, right? Otherwise, people might say it’s unhygienic without gloves," Grandma Jing said nervously as she watched her granddaughter set up three cameras inside and outside the villa. "Are we starting just like that? Isn’t there some kind of opening ceremony?"

Jing Shu said, "Grandma, I can’t believe you know this meme..."

These days, it’s not easy to fool the elderly.

"It’s got a rural vibe with a touch of modern, rustic and quirky. The boiler room looks just as ugly as the ones in the countryside, and now there are even chickens and ducks," Mr. Jing complained. "This won’t do. Let me fix up the chicken coop for you."

So, on the first day of the livestream, Mr. Jing, who moments before had worried about becoming popular, shifted his focus to fixing up the poultry house. His busy silhouette added quite a bizarre touch to Jing Shu’s quiet first day of livestreaming.

At Grandma Jing’s request, Jing Shu used her previously unpopular livestream account to set up a simple opening ceremony to appease her beloved grandmother:

"Hello, everyone! Today, we’re making a lot of Chili Sauce to give to relatives and for ourselves. If anyone likes it, tip 998 yuan, send me a direct message with your address, and I’ll mail it to you."

She titled the livestream: *Rich Second Generation’s Farmhouse Feast: Only 998, and It’ll Take Your Breath Away.*

The vegetables, chickens, and cattle from the space are life-extending; 998 yuan a piece isn’t expensive. Besides, she didn’t expect anyone to buy it anyway.

The content of the daily livestream would automatically generate videos that could be retained and rewatched at 5x or 10x speed. Jing Shu saw some painfully cringeworthy content from ten years ago, where she had pleaded for favorites and recommendation tickets, and she deleted every single one of them.

From today on, it’s all about the extravagant country life of a rich second-generation scion!

Jing Shu set up three cameras: one in the vegetable washing area, one in the chopping area, and one in the marinating and finishing area. This ensured the entire process was clean, hygienic, and additive-free. This way, when Mr. Jing and Mrs. Jing asked why her "business" hadn’t earned a single penny, Jing Shu could earnestly say she had tried her best.

On the fifth day of consuming the Spiritual Spring, Jing Shu felt a notable increase in her strength and endurance. She easily lifted 60L boxes of chili peppers and was responsible for washing all the red chilis.

Grandma Jing, wearing gloves and a face mask, used an automatic meat grinder to crush the chilies, an easy and simple operation.

Washing vegetables was a massive undertaking. Jing Shu had harvested twelve square meters of red chilis from the space. Products from the space were always premium quality—each chili was crystal clear, fresh, plump, and incredibly numerous. Although there wasn’t much dirt on them, just washing them took over two hours.

Grandma Jing couldn’t sit still. She started explaining what makes a chili pepper high quality and how to tell which vegetables were pesticide-free, even using the peppers to demonstrate for the viewers.

A few old fans popped in and out, one jokingly asking, "Has our beauty changed her profession?" But that was it. Nobody even complained about the high price. Despite the desultory atmosphere, Grandma Jing chatted away happily by herself.

Jing Shu worked tirelessly. The apocalypse is coming in a month; who would be in the mood to livestream! Peeling and grinding garlic, peeling and grinding onions, and dicing tomatoes—all these tasks were substantial. It took until noon to finish cleaning and preparing all the ingredients.

Seeing that Grandma Jing and Mr. Jing were low on spiritual power, Jing Shu spiked their water with one drop of Spiritual Spring mixed into 1000 ml of water. She decided to give them a dose every day. She’d be incredibly busy for the better part of the next month; lacking energy simply wouldn’t do.

At noon, Grandma Jing and Mr. Jing’s appetites notably increased. Both said they dared not eat too much, fearing indigestion, as the elderly often struggle with it. However, with their stomachs rumbling nonstop, they had no choice but to eat their fill. They were perplexed, as it had been a long time since they had felt truly hungry or had such an appetite.

"The more you work, the faster you digest, and the hungrier you get. If we keep up this amount of work daily, we’ll definitely have good appetites every day," Jing Shu chuckled quietly. She was increasingly appreciating the benefits the Spiritual Spring had on the body. Subject No. 1, even with its Spiritual Spring intake halved, was still lively and showed no signs of aging.

Except it ate a bit too much... BURP.

In the afternoon, Jing Shu and Grandma Jing began to cook Chili Sauce. They used two large pots on the stove simultaneously. They added chopped chilies, soybean sauce, crushed tomatoes, white sugar, white vinegar, and salt, bringing it all to a boil. They stirred continuously until the water evaporated, then turned off the heat and mixed in minced garlic, onion, and MSG.

Jing Shu then used 2-liter new-model exhaust-sealed canisters to store the Chili Sauce. So many boxes of chilies yielded only 50 jars, about one-tenth of the raw volume. Smelling the long-missed aroma, Jing Shu immediately grabbed a steamed bun with Chili Sauce and devoured it in two bites... SLURP, delicious!

This Chili Sauce, when sealed and refrigerated, could last for several years without spoiling. She left some in the kitchen and preciously stored the rest in the basement.

The first day’s quiet livestream ended with Jing Shu’s mouth full of Chili Sauce. Grandma Jing looked worriedly at the large quantity of sauce. "If these don’t sell, we’ll be eating this until who knows when."

It was a good thing they didn’t sell; if they had, Jing Shu would have been worried. She kept two boxes of chilies to dry on the third-floor balcony to make Chili Powder, an essential ingredient for spicy beef jerky.

"You actually streamed again? Seems like you still want to be famous, huh! How are you considering the contract matter? There are already two people waiting in line. I’ve held them off for you, but if you don’t decide soon, I won’t be able to help anymore," Zhu Zhengqi suddenly messaged her.

Jing Shu smacked her forehead. How could she forget about this nuisance? In her previous life, her cooperation meant she wasn’t closely involved with Zhu Zhengqi. He had acted as a middleman, taken his commission, and then disappeared from Jing Shu’s life. She hadn’t seen him again in the ten years of the apocalypse. Yet, in this life, he stuck around like a stubborn plaster.

"I’m just streaming casually. Maybe you should handle those two waiting first; it’s embarrassing to keep them waiting." Jing Shu scoffed. The trick she had just played on others was now being played on her. Hmph.

She truly wasn’t afraid that Zhu Zhengqi would question Mr. Jing and expose her. What could Zhu Zhengqi do if, by then, she presented a contract and claimed she’d signed with another company? But she preferred to avoid such nuisances; she just wanted to peacefully spend her last few days preparing food for the apocalypse.

Zhu Zhengqi inevitably began his various persuasions again. When WeChat messages failed, he resorted to phone calls and vaguely hinted at inviting Jing Shu’s family out for a meal. Jing Shu, feeling helpless, stalled, "Let me try for another month or so. Just give me a little more time. If I’m not popular by the end of next month, I’ll definitely come to you." By then, in the apocalypse, who would care about whom?

"Alright." Zhu Zhengqi seemed out of options.

Just when Jing Shu breathed a sigh of relief and began her daily inspection of the space and practicing with a Level 5 Magic Cube, Zhu Zhengqi started causing trouble.

After watching Jing Shu’s livestream content from that day at 10x speed, Zhu Zhengqi sneered, "998? Dreaming of money, are you? And you still want to be famous with this? Hmph. Fine. Let me speed up the process a bit, so you don’t think this field is so easy to succeed in."

Zhu Zhengqi, feeling the pinch, spent two thousand yuan to hire trolls. Starting tomorrow, they would set the narrative, mindlessly spewing hate and discrediting her. She already had low popularity, and no one was paying attention. With countless people flaming her daily, even if new viewers came and saw so many people cursing a streamer for selling a trinket worth a few yuan for 998, they’d likely be swayed by the mob mentality and join in the condemnation.

Just her, a young girl fresh out of college—could she endure this? Heh.

"In three days, I’ll make sure you can’t escape my grasp! The price has to go up. Increase it by fifty... no, a hundred thousand!" Zhu Zhengqi inwardly cackled, imagining Jing Shu tearfully pleading with him for help.