Chapter 137
Hearing Yi Chunqing’s words, Liang Mingchun and the others finally took a closer look at the squad.
At first glance, they’d only noticed improved complexions and replenished cores.
But now—several squad members weren’t just restored; their cores were on the brink of upgrading!
Take Murong Miao: her core glowed vivid blue, energy brimming—just a nudge away from A-rank.
Liang Mingchun had assumed they’d pooled credits for premium nutrients.
But core-upgrading items were unimaginably rare in the Eastern Base, priceless when they appeared.
Even the base’s costliest solutions only repaired cores—never enhanced them.
“Could it… really be true?” Liang Mingchun wondered.
They’d been skeptical, but Yi Chunqing had no reason to lie.
—If this was real, it changed everything.
Most of these exiled mercenaries had damaged or depleted cores, rendering them helpless outside the base.
But with restored cores? They stood a chance.
“If this works, and our cores are fixed…” someone whispered, “we might survive tomorrow’s mission…”
“Right! Just Auntie Liang’s B-rank healing core alone could protect dozens if restored.”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Liang Mingchun cautioned. “We don’t know if it’s real, or if it only works for the 11th Squad. But… it’s worth trying.”
Resolve solidified in their eyes.
As one, they turned to Yi Chunqing and bowed:
“Grandpa Qing—lead the way!”
Yi Chunqing and the others nodded solemnly.
Thus, a procession of dozens—nearly a hundred—mercenaries set off from the residential district toward the Black Market.
In the Black Market, Weasel-face and Li Zhou were stunned to see Yi Chunqing leading a haggard group of mercenaries.
“Have they lost their minds?!”
“Aren’t those the trash Mu Dongsheng used to protect? What’s Yi Chunqing bringing them here for?”
Li Zhou tensed, assuming they’d come to cause trouble.
“Pfft—what can a bunch of crippled weaklings do?” Weasel-face soothed.
Li Zhou relaxed. Even combined, these core-depleted wretches couldn’t scratch him.
With Mu Dongsheng’s S-rank core, he was untouchable now.
“Since they’re being exiled tomorrow, they probably want a last meal,” Li Zhou sneered, ordering Weasel-face, “Make sure they don’t buy anything in Zone A—”
Before he could finish, the group marched straight toward Zone F.
Li Zhou and Weasel-face gaped.
Then—
“HAHAHAHAHAHA! They’re that desperate?!”
“Pathetic! Their ‘last meal’ is rotten slop!”
“Trash like Mu Dongsheng only deserve Zone F’s garbage.”
“I almost feel sorry for them.”
Li Zhou and his cronies howled with laughter.
The 11th Squad wasn’t just eating trash—they’d brought dozens to join them!
They must’ve been starving to stoop this low!
Weasel-face chuckled along, but unease gnawed at him…
What if that porridge really is special?
Meanwhile, in Zone F…
After the 11th Squad left, Jian Yunlan kept the porridge warm, awaiting new customers.
He’d expected them to return with maybe seven or eight people.
Location was crucial for food stalls. In this remote spot, selling over a dozen bowls today would’ve been a win.
Today’s goal wasn’t volume—it was building word-of-mouth.
If today’s customers spread the praise, tomorrow and the next day would see real momentum.
Selling twenty bowls today would’ve exceeded his expectations…
So when the 11th Squad returned with dozens, Jian Yunlan froze.
—They brought how many?!
What kind of pull do they have?!
Scanning the newcomers, he noted their exhaustion and skepticism. Clearly, they’d only come at the squad’s insistence.
Recovering swiftly, Jian Yunlan tied his apron and beamed:
“Welcome to Simple Porridge! Fresh century egg and lean pork porridge—three credits a bowl!”
“Please line up here—there’s enough for everyone!”
As Jian Yunlan assessed them, Liang Mingchun’s group studied him in turn.
Initially, she’d assumed the stall was in Zone A.
Upon entering Zone F, her hopes dimmed. If the porridge was that miraculous, why couldn’t the owner afford Zone A’s fees?
The deeper they went, the more her doubts grew—peaking when she saw the vendor.
Too young. Too handsome. Too… clean for the apocalypse.
Could his porridge possibly be good?
Murmurs spread.
But… they were already here. At three credits, why not try?
Under the 11th Squad’s direction, seventy-odd mercenaries queued up—though only ten joined the line initially, the rest watching warily.
“One bowl, please.”
“Same. Never seen porridge like this—why isn’t it red or green?”
“Wow, it’s actually hot…”
Soon, Liang Mingchun and the others held steaming bowls.
Blowing gently, they took tentative sips—expecting little, just praying for a miracle.
But with the first sip—everyone froze.
—”Holy shit, what is this?! It’s amazing!”
Someone’s outburst captured the group’s awe.
The porridge bubbled gently, steaming faintly as it left the pot. Each spoonful was thick yet silky, the rice melting on the tongue with a peppery kick.
Liang Mingchun savored her bite, then devoured another scoop.
“Did you get the meat? So tender it bounces!”
“After a few sips, I’m warmer than by the fire…”
“This tastes like before the apocalypse.”
Many had come solely for the rumored “magic effects,” expecting mediocre flavor.
But now? They were hooked.
This porridge was unbelievably delicious!!!
Lost in the warmth, they craved just one more bite—
So absorbed, they almost missed the real miracle.
As the porridge slid down their throats, a soothing heat spread through their bodies like embers in winter.
The warmth pooled in their cores, mending cracks and replenishing energy…
Liang Mingchun noticed first.
She’d just licked her bowl clean when power surged through her.
Staring at her palms in disbelief—
As a B-rank healer with a near-dead core, she hadn’t been able to mend even her own scars.
But now? Energy overflowed, weaving through her wounds, sealing them shut!
Others soon gasped:
“My core’s back at full power!”
“I could take on ten guys now!”
“The porridge actually repairs cores… Boss Jian must be a hidden master…”
Many were veterans who’d fought alongside Mu Dongsheng, left disabled or core-drained defending the base.
Yet one bowl had loosened years of stagnation!
Could more bowls heal them completely? And even without the effects—they’d gladly drink it for the taste alone!
Eyes gleaming, those who’d finished immediately rejoined the line.
The hesitant, seeing this, swarmed the queue.
“Boss Jian, another bowl!”
“Five for me!”
“TEN! I’m stocking up!”
*
Two hours later, the massive porridge bucket was empty.
Wiping his brow, Jian Yunlan tallied the day’s sales—and staggered.
—Simple Porridge’s apocalyptic debut: 200 bowls sold!
So the second day going be another 200 bowls served of Jian Yunlan’s simple porridge and that the third day will be a frenzy for the last 100 bowls?