CHAPTER 147: THE LANDLORD’S IDIOTIC SON QIAN SHENGQIAN

Wu City isn’t like Modu or Guangdong, where every inch of land is worth its weight in gold. Indeed, if you’re rich enough, buying several mountains isn’t a problem at all. No wonder they call it West Mountain Villa. It turns out that all the mountains west of Wu City truly belong to Qian Duoduo!

The villa, looking like a castle, was situated halfway up the mountain. Jing Shu observed it from a distance, feeling profoundly shocked. She couldn’t help but think of the Zhetian robbery incident and their ridiculous claim back then that they would rob Qian Duoduo—it’s likely they couldn’t even find his house, right? Is that why they switched to targeting oil bases instead?

"Thirteen calling, could you please tell me where the young master is? Over!"

"Eleven received, the young master is in the haunted house! Over!"

As a result, Jing Shu was taken to the haunted house. It turned out to be just a place filled with props, though it was lavishly decorated, just like everything before the apocalypse.

The driver mentioned that back when there was sunlight, the daily expenses for electricity, water, and labor were around 300,000. Hosting a banquet or organizing entertainment activities would incur additional costs. After the apocalypse, they had cut down on some of these expenses.

"Criminal, it’s you!!"

Suddenly, a loud shout startled Jing Shu. She saw a figure, who had originally been facing away behind the dining table, abruptly turn around and point at her, yelling.

Jing Shu: "???"

"There’s no upper or lower limit to deduction, nor is there any winning or losing. That’s because... because there’s only one truth!" The teenage boy, around fourteen or fifteen, solemnly indulged in his own world.

Jing Shu suddenly realized—this might just be the landlord’s foolish son? Compared to Niu Yanben’s baby fat, he was much more delicately and elegantly built, not resembling his father much. He was about the same height as Jing Shu, around 1.6 meters.

But this bratty kid looked like he needed a good smack.

"Why aren’t you clapping?" The landlord’s foolish son was upset at not receiving the expected praise.

You must be tolerant of a child who has mental issues!

"CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!" Jing Shu clapped vigorously while adding a compliment, "Wonderful!"

Only then did the landlord’s foolish son crack a smile. See, stupid kids are easy to please... Not!

Oh right, the driver had told Jing Shu that his name was Qian Shengqian, and he had a sister named Qian Qianjin.

"Does she weigh five hundred kilograms?" Jing Shu asked, surprised.

The driver gave an enigmatic smile, and Jing Shu understood. The names in this family... are awesome!

"Where’s your eating utensil?"

Jing Shu put her insulated box on the dining table. "The ice cream is all in here."

But Qian Shengqian pressed the doorbell, and a group of people in strange costumes, each carrying a dish, entered.

Erm... Jing Shu bit back a curse. When he said ’eating utensil,’ didn’t he mean the ice cream, her means of survival? What, are we having a real meal now?

Qian Shengqian pulled out what seemed to be ivory chopsticks and a small bowl from his breast pocket. "If you didn’t bring them, you can’t eat. Guests must bring their own bowl and chopsticks; that’s the rule in my house. Although my dad said to thank you for the delicious ice cream, I still must adhere to our family rules."

Qian Shengqian had a hint of smugness.

She’s been played...

Wasn’t the landlord’s son supposed to be foolish? Maybe her understanding of ’foolish’ was wrong?

But, fortunately, Jing Shu’s space had everything anyway.

Jing Shu smiled as she opened the thermal container, then pulled out chopsticks and a bowl. "Good thing I brought them."

Qian Shengqian burst into laughter. "This is fake..." he said, turning the incredibly realistic-looking dish upside down and shaking it vigorously, revealing it was just a prop.

Jing Shu: "Hehe." I won’t stoop to the level of an idiot. Stay calm, stay calm.

But I really can’t take it anymore! What’s with this brat always liking to play pranks on people?

Next, Qian Shengqian clapped his hands, CLAP! CLAP!, saying he was switching props. Then, with a CLICK, he announced, "Now we start the Tom and Jerry plot. You play Jerry the mouse, and I’ll play Tom. I’m going to start chasing you. You let me catch you in a minute, and then... !@#￥%....?"

Jing Shu asked with a weird expression, "Are you... sure?"

Forgive Jing Shu who, playing the mouse, ’accidentally’ thrashed Qian Shengqian, the cat, several times. She would deliberately let herself be caught, only to then immediately overpower him, pin him to the ground, and give him a beating.

Qian Shengqian cried, tears streaming down his face. "This isn’t how the script was supposed to go."

Jing Shu let out a satisfied sigh. "Doesn’t the mouse always beat up the cat after getting caught on TV?"

Qian Shengqian sobbed, hiccuping, "It seems so..."

"Oh dear, Miss Jing, I apologize. Mr. Qian actually invited you over for a meal. Somehow the young master found out and intercepted you. Mr. Qian searched for you for a long time before discovering you were here. The young master didn’t make you do anything strange, did he? Oh dear, my little ancestor, why are you crying?"

While they were in the midst of their fun, a burly man with a voice like a squawking duck burst into the haunted house and explained the situation.

Jing Shu suddenly felt like she had entered a mental hospital where the director asked her to do all kinds of weird things, only to have the real director come out and tell her: the one you just met is actually mentally ill...

Jing Shu coolly said, "Your young master is performing a crying scene. Isn’t he doing well? Aren’t you going to applaud?"

The burly man was stunned for a moment, then immediately clapped, CLAP! CLAP! "The young master’s acting is so realistic!"

Qian Shengqian then cracked a wide smile.

Jing Shu covered her face. She’d thought it was weird being called over and then made to act in a play. This silly son of his wasn’t just foolish; there might also be something genuinely off with his mental state...

Indeed, Jing Shu was supposed to have a meal directly with Mr. Qian. However, the plan was cancelled due to a delay and something urgent coming up. But at least Qian Shengqian was very satisfied with the spicy strip-flavored ice cream. To make amends, Qian Duoduo even offered extra diesel and promised to properly invite her for a meal next time.

"Next time you play the cat, and I’ll play the mouse!" Qian Shengqian said as they were saying goodbye.

Jing Shu nodded with a smile. If there was a next time, she would make it unforgettable for him.

Next, Qian Shengqian probably wouldn’t be needing ice cream, and Jing Shu wouldn’t be needing diesel for a while.

Jing Shu had enough of her own ice cream for this lifetime. As the future days grew colder, she wouldn’t eat ice cream like this again. It was also time to turn all the stored milk into milk powder and milk flakes.

During the last and hottest two months of the ten years in the apocalypse, Jing Shu, like a diligent bee, dried all vegetables, fruits, and various food items that could be dried, to facilitate future relocation and daily use.

For example, Mrs. Jing’s favorite Xiao Bai apricots were picked, eaten, and dried in batches. There were also apple chips from the yard, and dried strawberries and raisins from the greenhouse.

After growing coconuts for half a year, with a batch maturing every five days, the yield was quite astonishing. Besides continually drinking the coconut water, Jing Shu turned all the remaining coconuts into three cubic meters of coconut milk and pulp. Then she cut down the six coconut trees and planted various other fruit-bearing plants in their place, filling up the six cubic meters of space, and began a frantic production of dried fruits.