Chapter 104: Ling Jing — How Much?
If it had merely been a “time-limited quest,” it might have sparked a flicker of curiosity in Ling Jing.
However, a time-limited quest described as having elevated difficulty and exceptionally rich rewards caught her full, undivided attention.
For this stingy system to use the word “rich” to describe anything, the payoff had to be extraordinary.
Caicai and Fufu were merely Silver cards pulled from the Featured Pool.
Would a “rich” reward grant Gold cards? And how many?
Piqued with genuine interest, Ling Jing tapped [Accept Quest].
On the system interface, the full requirements for the “Rainy Season Time-Limited Quest” unfurled before her eyes:
[Time-Limited Quest Requirements:
- Reach the turnover target within the 7-day Rainy Season (0 / 100,000)
- Serve unique guests within the 7-day Rainy Season: 1,000 (0 / 1,000)
- Reach the turnover target for designated category foods within the 7-day Rainy Season (0 / 33,333) [Note: Designated category foods for the Rainy Season quest refer to items conferring buffs for insect/mosquito repellent, infection prevention, dampness/cold resistance, chills relief, and detoxification.]]
Ling Jing: How much?!
A hundred thousand in turnover in just seven days.
On top of that, it required serving one thousand guests within the same window.
She scrutinized the phrasing carefully: it specified the number of individuals, not customer visits.
It demanded a headcount of one thousand unique living beings stepping through her door over seven days?
Did the entirety of Seed City even have that many people?
Where on earth was she supposed to find the surplus?
She was a restaurateur, not a magician; she couldn’t conjure living humans out of thin air.
Still, “elevated difficulty” didn’t mean impossible.
Ling Jing pondered the implications.
This requirement hinted at something else: during the impending Rainy Season, the Chinese Restaurant would likely entertain patrons from beyond Seed City.
She teased out the subtle subtext hidden beneath the numbers.
The hum of voices rose.
A chorus of rustling footsteps drew near.
Ling Jing glanced toward the entrance; today’s wave of patrons had arrived at the Chinese Restaurant.
“Good morning, Boss!”
“Whoa, the boss is actually sitting up front today!”
A stream of familiar faces stepped through the doors, greeting Ling Jing behind the cashier counter one by one.
They were thoroughly versed in the routine by now. Without requiring any direction on her part, the patrons orderly fell into line before the counter.
They made their selections, dropped their coins into the box, and headed to the corresponding dispensers to claim their meals.
Once they had their food in hand, they picked a comfortable spot inside the dining hall or out on the benches to sit and eat.
The first batch to step inside immediately noticed the transformations within the hall.
“Whoa! It expanded again!”
“Look at all these extra seats—it feels so much roomier!”
“Over by the Malatang section—there are two more long tables!”
Although Ling Jing’s hometown had no custom of devouring spicy skewers first thing in the morning, the denizens of Seed City couldn’t care less about traditional dining hours.
The first meal before a grueling shift simply had to be hearty, filling, and thoroughly satisfying.
Those aiming for the Malatang skewers marveled at the enlarged floor plan, and upon spotting the newly installed condiment counter, they eagerly hailed their companions to try their hand at mixing dipping sauces.
One City Coin?
In the past, they might have deliberated over a single coin, but now they tossed it in without batting an eye—completely painless and carefree.
A handful of diners clustered before the condiment bar, clutching little dishes as they went wild combining the various toppings.
Others followed Caicai up to the second floor.
Among them were patrons who had dined upstairs yesterday, alongside those who had scraped together enough savings to splurge on an upscale meal first thing this morning.
Chirping, “Welcome, welcome!”, Caicai escorted three separate parties up the stairs.
Moments later, the little automaton rolled smoothly back down, darting straight for the kitchen.
Ling Jing cast a glance toward the back. Through the service window’s glass pane, she could see Fufu processing the tickets Caicai had just brought down.
Its mechanical hand had already hoisted the wok spatula.
Each dish had five portions prepped in advance; who knew which one had already been ordered beyond that buffer during Caicai’s single trip upstairs?
Shortly after, Caicai retrieved several pre-made dishes from the holding cabinet, loaded them onto serving trays, and trundled upstairs to deliver them.
Splendid.
Even with her taking a break, the two fully automated robots were entirely capable of handling the flow of orders on their own.
Ling Jing took a contented sip of her hot ginger brown sugar tea, waiting for the painkiller she had swallowed earlier to kick in.
Tsk… why does the system medicine catalog stock ibuprofen of all things?
That pill always took its sweet time checking in with every organ before doing its job—terribly sluggish.
Her brow furrowed slightly in discomfort.
“Big Sister Boss, are you feeling unwell today? Your complexion looks a bit pale.”
Lina had just reached the front of the queue and caught sight of Ling Jing’s knitted brow.
“I’m alright,” Ling Jing replied casually. “Just those few uncomfortable days of the month every woman deals with once she grows up.”
“Huh?” Lina blinked blankly, and Lilin beside her wore an equally clueless expression.
“My period started.”
She kept it concise and plain.
These two girls had been the very first patrons she met in this world, and they were regular customers by now.
Since they showed genuine concern, she offered a polite, straightforward answer.
Yet Ling Jing hadn’t expected that such an explicit explanation would only leave the two girls looking even more lost.
She briefly wondered if the terminology for menstruation in this world differed from her own.
However, the system’s built-in translation feature was supposed to convey the underlying meaning seamlessly.
“Oh, Boss, they’re still just little kids; it’s only natural they don’t know,” Auntie Yun chimed in from the side with a genial chuckle, turning to Lilin. “The boss is fine, dear.”
“Oh, okay!”
Ling Jing arched an eyebrow. These two girls look to be in their early teens—isn’t this basic human biology?
Even in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, shouldn’t they know the bare essentials?
Wait… unless women in this wasteland no longer menstruate at all.
Sure enough, Auntie Yun offered a gentle explanation: “Periods, you see—whether it’s an old woman like me, young girls their age, or young ladies in their twenties and thirties—none of us get them anymore.”
Ling Jing nodded slowly, though questions lingered in her mind.
The suffocating stress and severe malnutrition of an apocalypse could certainly throw a woman’s hormonal balance into chaos.
However, for all women across the board to cease menstruating was entirely unnatural.
Before she could press further, Auntie Yun continued of her own accord: “Ever since the second year after the Cataclysm, both men and women completely lost the ability to reproduce. Back then, the authorities claimed… our bodies had mutated under the relentless corruption of environmental toxins.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone,” Auntie Yun affirmed with a nod. “To be honest, it was almost a blessing in disguise. We were all struggling just to keep ourselves breathing; if we had to feed another mouth on top of that, who could possibly survive? Besides, life is so bitter here—bringing an innocent child into this world would just be subjecting them to pure misery.”
Having hit her stride, the older woman rambled on: “Those first two years after the fall were utter bedlam. All the old newspapers and broadcasts… ah, back when media still existed, all sorts of wild rumors were flying around. Some claimed the Federation had incurred divine wrath, which was why humanity was stripped of descendants. Rebel factions sprouted everywhere, raising private armies under the banner of overthrowing the Supreme Commander, but eventually they were all wiped out!
“Then came the second or third year—right around the time iron black wheat was developed as our staple ration. Word came that someone in the Three Great Cities had awakened the ability of [Procreation], capable of directly birthing descendants for mankind. After that, the talk about human extinction gradually died down, and nobody cared anymore. Truth be told, caring wouldn’t change a thing anyway; our bodies were already warped, so who gave a damn what we thought?
“Still, in all these years, I’ve never laid eyes on a single newborn child.”
“Didn’t the officials say that all newborns are carefully nurtured and shielded within Weng City?” someone in line chimed in.
“That’s what they claim, but none of us have ever been there.”
“Who cares? Real or fake, it’s way too far removed from folks like us. Better to worry about what’s right in front of our noses. Auntie Yun, did you finish paying?”
“Oh, right away, right away!”
Chuckling, Auntie Yun dropped seven City Coins into the exchange box and stepped aside to collect her rice porridge.
Lina and Lilin had finished their purchases long ago, slipping away the moment the adults began discussing topics that bored them.
Behind the cashier counter, Ling Jing remained deep in thought.
The emergence of the [Procreation] ability… and the rollout of the city’s mandatory “rations.”
They happened in the exact same year?
