Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH139

Chapter 139

“Details of the game.” Jiang Jitang spoke to the system as he stood up, handing a 10ml bottle of mulberry jam to the wealthy client’s assistant.

The assistant was confused.

“I need to leave for five minutes to play the game. This violates our agreement, but we can discuss compensation afterward. This is a life-saving potion—if your boss needs it, this bottle can sustain him for ten minutes.”

The assistant held the bottle like a live grenade, unsure how to handle the situation. But dungeons were always unreasonable, so there was nothing he could do to stop Jiang Jitang from temporarily leaving.

Finally, he could only stiffly say: “I will inform my boss of this.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Jiang Jitang had nothing to say; the problem was on his end. If the client wanted to pursue it, so be it.

The system had already popped up the task details:

[This was a targeted order, issued only to taskers with above-average old-item restoration skills.

The issuer required the taker to act as an outsider in the “Heating the Dilapidated House” game. The task location: an abandoned hunter’s cabin. Task time: 640 minutes. Task requirements: help the poor mother and daughter repair the cabin before dark to prevent rude intruders from disturbing them.

After entering the game, the player could choose three conventional tools useful for the task.

The mother and daughter’s happiness could be quantified. Their combined happiness equaled the player’s final score. If rude intruders entered, the score would reset to zero and could even turn negative.

The task ended when the player left the cabin before dark, entering the waiting area.

If completed successfully, the player would receive a Wishing Star and a game souvenir.

Notes: make full use of materials collected at the task site and the surrounding environment.

Prohibition: staying past dark.

If the score is negative, the player will randomly lose a piece of flesh.]

Jiang Jitang confirmed the task, and his figure disappeared from the original space-time.

“Ah-choo!” Frost-laden wind blew in through a hole in the wall, striking his exposed skin. He sneezed.

Luckily, protective clothing was available to keep him warm. Jiang Jitang shook his body, stiffened by the wind, and surveyed the environment.

Heating the Dilapidated House. Jiang Jitang remembered seeing advertisements with a shivering mother and daughter inside a ruined cabin, snow raging outside, and a tiny stove flickering out instantly. He had wanted to try it but could never find a proper mini-game.

Now, it was right in front of him.

“No need to replicate it so literally,” he muttered, looking at the shivering mother and daughter in thin summer dresses. Above their heads floated two data bars: 30 and 28.

In front of him, a floating game menu displayed tools and materials: axe, torch, hammer, blanket… but he could choose only three.

Everything had been copied thoroughly.

This was a typical straw-and-mud house. The hay covering had mostly fallen off, exposing the wooden frame. Inside, some hay clumps remained for use, so he didn’t waste them outside.

The wooden-and-mud walls had many holes. The wooden windows and doors were damaged, but the main structures, especially the foundation posts, were sturdy.

The only brick fixture inside was a fireplace, filled with thick snow.

“Where’s water nearby?” he asked the mother and daughter NPCs.

“There used to be water in the small stream ahead, but it’s dry now. You have to walk 300 meters along the riverbed to find water. Be careful of wild animals there.”

“Got it, thank you.”

The mother, holding the child, forced a smile. Her happiness bar (28) increased slightly.

The game menu had begun counting down. Jiang Jitang had to choose three items from: axe, shovel, hammer, bucket, multi-tool knife, blanket, rope, pork belly, bread, salt.

He chose a shovel, multi-tool knife, and salt.

Under the shivering mother and daughter’s gaze, Jiang Jitang cleaned a clay pot and carried it outside. The riverbed had little water, but the soil was damp.

He dug up some wet soil with the shovel and shaved branches from nearby trees with the knife. The branches were stripped of small twigs and leaves, leaving about half-meter segments, roughly the thickness of a broad bean.

Along the damp riverbed, he saw some holes with mud bubbles—likely fish. But repairing the cabin was the priority. He also grabbed some reeds before leaving.

He returned with branches and soil. The branches were inserted into the wall as a skeleton, interwoven to patch holes, like mending a tear in clothing.

Soon, several holes in the wall were patched this way. But branches were only the framework—he needed to plaster mud on both sides. Jiang Jitang smoothed the mud with the shovel, barely blocking the wind.

He then lifted the crooked door, securing it in place. The door didn’t use modern metal fasteners but two pivot points: one fitted into the threshold groove, the other into the frame.

Windows were fixed the same way, barely functional.

With holes patched and doors/windows fixed, the ceiling remained exposed. Jiang Jitang collected dry hay, twisted it into ropes, and bundled it. These improvised ropes were poor quality but sufficient to tie the hay clumps.

All the hay inside the house was collected and bundled. He then needed a longer rope to secure the hay bundles.

While working, a little girl approached: “Big brother, can I help?”

“Of course,” he looked up, “I could use a hand.”

But he first noticed her arm injuries: crisscrossing burn scars, likely from hot sticks.

Jiang Jitang lowered his head, pretending not to see. Then the mother joined. Her hay rope was more even and sturdy, though patches of burned skin were visible.

Suspecting the truth, he slightly distanced himself from them. As an adult male, he could cause them unease.

Time passed. The house didn’t warm up, their stomachs remained hungry, but the mother and daughter’s happiness steadily increased to over forty.

The girl seemed unafraid, following and calling “big brother”. The mother remained alert.

Later, Jiang Jitang climbed the roof, with the girl handed hay bundles by her mother.

Together, they covered the roof with thick hay bundles, tied with ropes, and weighed down with stones.

“Yay! Not cold anymore!” the girl ran around inside.

In truth, it wasn’t warm—the wind simply couldn’t enter.

With indoor wind blocked, the fireplace snow would melt and wet the wood. The mother and daughter cleared the snow into a clay pot, while Jiang Jitang used a primitive fire drill.

The fire drill included a log, a sharpened branch, a special bow, and some dry fibers.

He borrowed a hair tie from the woman’s head as a bowstring. The fire fibers were collected from the riverbed.

With effort, within ten minutes, the fibers ignited. He carefully nurtured the small flame until it became noticeable.

“Mom, fire! It’s so warm!” The girl was excited but cautious. Her mother held her silently.

The flame ignited the hay, then the wood in the fireplace. The snow was cleared, and the wood was dry, so the fireplace lit easily.

The orange light filled the cabin, giving a sense of warmth even though the air hadn’t heated yet.

Jiang Jitang glanced at the remaining five-hour countdown and frowned.

The cabin looked repaired, but a straw roof could not withstand an adult man’s axe—happiness could plummet at any moment.

He couldn’t stay past dark, so he couldn’t eliminate potential intruders—rude people who shouldn’t appear.

“After dark, wild animals may come. Should I dig some traps nearby?”

The mother looked up sharply at his back. Though casual, his words shook her slightly.

“I heard…” she croaked, “there’s a bear nearby. It can mimic knocking on doors.”

“Then the traps must be bigger and hidden. Those bears are smart. Otherwise, we put them at the front yard, and we use the back door. What do you think?”

She licked her chapped lips: “Okay.”

After this short exchange, Jiang Jitang took the clay pot and left. There might be fish in the river. The woman returned to tidying the cabin.

The child squatted by the fireplace, unaware.

“Mom, it’s warm, but my arm hurts.”

“Don’t worry,” the mother hugged her, “it will stop hurting soon.”

Jiang Jitang dug fish from the partially dry riverbed, gutted and cleaned them upstream. The fillets went into a clay pot with melted snow water and a pinch of salt, set on the fireplace.

The improvised fish soup was simple, yet the mother and daughter ate it eagerly, their pale faces regaining some color.

“Mom, what is big brother doing?” the girl asked hesitantly.

Jiang Jitang didn’t eat with them; he dug traps outside, sharpened branches ready to be set upright. Nearby, he had woven branch “covers.”

“He’s protecting us,” the mother said.

Snow fell heavily, covering Jiang Jitang in white. Though wearing protective clothing, to others he seemed working in summer clothes in the winter snowstorm.

The girl saw him through the window and wanted to call him in, but her mother pulled her back:

“Big brother is doing something important. Don’t disturb him, okay?”

The girl nodded.

Unexpectedly, her mother went outside to help him.

“This bear has thick fur that protects it; knives and spears can’t hurt it.”

Jiang Jitang paused: “Will this even work?” pointing at the sharpened branches.

“Cover with hay and sprinkle pine resin. The bear has eaten many people. Its body is covered in thick fat. It fears fire.”

Glancing at nearby pine trees, he nodded.

Finally, before dark, the traps were dug—almost three meters deep. The walls were smoothed with wet river mud, lined with hay and pine resin.

Jiang Jitang worked hard in the snow, blisters forming then disappearing due to his “time-stop” ability, though fatigue remained.

The woven covers were carefully placed over the pits, leveled with the ground, covered with thin soil, some hay, and a thin layer of snow. He tried to blend them into the environment.

Luckily, bears only came after dark and wouldn’t notice easily.

The sun was setting in the west, only a streak of fading twilight remained. He looked at the sky one last time, smiling and shaking his head at the girl at the window: “I’m leaving.”

“Big brother!” the girl called, wanting to run out, but her mother stopped her.

“It’s dark; he’s going home. Let’s drink the fish soup. You haven’t eaten in a while, right?”

The girl seemed persuaded, or sensed her mother wouldn’t allow her out, and obediently nodded.

The mother went to the door, ready to close it. She glanced at the yard.

The small branch-woven gate was tied with vines. The ground at the entrance differed slightly from elsewhere, partially visible under snow.

Heavy snow soon covered it all, leaving no trace.

“The bear… it’s coming.”