Chapter 31
Late that night, the little hamster drove out to the suburban warehouse to collect the bulk grain Senior Qian and the villagers had gathered, sweeping it smoothly into his spatial dimension. He then broke down the crates of wholesale meat, loading the vacuum-sealed cuts right alongside it.
His cheeks were comfortably packed, with the right pouch temporarily holding fifty catties of prime beef and pork. That was more than enough for immediate family use, especially considering the massive stockpile of restaurant takeout his sister had already stashed away.
On the drive back, Yu Xiaoyuan spotted a glowing neon sign for a specialty boba lounge. Pulling onto the curb, he marched up to the counter and rattled off thirty custom drinks: classic roasted milk tea, fresh taro puree, crushed Oreo cream, golden boba, sticky purple rice, and two of their signature chilled fruit teas.
While waiting by the pickup counter, a vibrant promotional card caught his eye.
“Wait…” His eyes widened in absolute shock. “Is that peanut-flavored?!”
“Yes, it launched today! We just put the poster up,” the barista replied with an enthusiastic grin. “You still have ten cups waiting in the queue, sir. Would you like to swap any of them out?”
“No need to swap—just add twenty cups of the peanut flavor!” Yu Xiaoyuan whipped out his smartphone, scanned the payment code without batting an eye, and discreetly stepped aside to open his food delivery app, placing an immediate order for thirty more cups to be sent straight to the villa.
Peanut milk tea! A little hamster’s absolute holy grail!
“Whoa, another thirty-cup order just popped onto the board,” the cashier called out to the kitchen staff. “Do we have enough steeped base ready?”
“Ugh, brewing fresh tea this late at night?” the mixer groaned, shaking his head. “Must be an after-party—look at that address, it’s out in the luxury villa district.”
Yu Xiaoyuan retreated into the corner, his face burning with bashful guilt. Still… he couldn’t help himself. It was peanut milk tea! The best he could do was tip the delivery driver generously to balance out the trouble.
The next morning, the little hamster woke up and let out a soft, sweet milk burp.
Patting his furry belly with tiny paws, he savored the lingering taste. After drinking round after round all night, he had polished off three jumbo cups of peanut milk tea before bed.
“So heavenly…” He licked his whiskers, his cravings far from satisfied. Rolling over across the sheets, he retrieved his phone and placed another order for fifty cups through the morning delivery app. He added a generous courier tip, considering the staggering size of the bag.
Then, opening two separate delivery platforms, he routed fifty cups each to his old downtown apartment and the suburban warehouse.
Counting on his front claws, he planned out his logistical web: “When Uncle wraps up his morning meetings, he can bring home fifty cups, and I’ll use his office profile to order another fifty to his branch.
“Sister has an address on the west side where I can order fifty more.” That was three hundred cups a day!
Whenever he ran errands past a brick-and-mortar branch, he would personally clear out another fifty!
He rubbed his cheeks with giddy excitement. That meant three hundred and fifty cups daily. At a steady pace of one cup a day, he would have enough peanut milk tea to last an entire year!
Glancing at the glowing countdown hovering in his peripheral vision, he realized that with four days to spare, he could easily amass a four-year supply!
He could only hope that by the time his stash ran dry, post-apocalyptic society would have cleared the opening horrors and re-established basic agricultural manufacturing.
After breakfasting on a thick, double-layered peanut butter sandwich, the little hamster scampered out to the driveway, where his sister was already waiting behind the wheel.
The dashboard clock read eight-thirty sharp. “I scouted five of the largest wholesale warehouse clubs across the metropolitan loop,” Yu Tianwei said, adjusting her mirrors. “If we hit the highway now, we’ll pull into the first parking lot the second their bay doors roll up.”
She was driving the mid-sized utility box truck Yu Xiaoyuan usually used for his supply runs. The enclosed cargo bed made operations effortless: once the loading crew packed the bay, they only had to shut the doors, toss the little hamster inside to sweep the goods into his dimension, and cruise smoothly to the next district.
“Sourcing from separate wholesale distributors lets us purchase tons of bulk sugar and sea salt without flagging commercial audits,” Tianwei said, tapping her phone screen. “I also used the pretext of our cousin opening an upscale hot pot franchise to have my corporate assistant procure industrial-grade alcohol fuel blocks, pressurized propane tanks, bituminous coal, and lump charcoal.”
“Good grief… Does your assistant think I’m launching a restaurant, or plotting to burn the Yu Corporation to the ground?” Sitting in the passenger seat, Yu Xiaoyuan had already shifted back into his human form, wearing an oversized hoodie.
“He probably assumes you’re indulging another eccentric hobby, but ordinary folks rarely question how trust-fund heirs blow their money,” Tianwei replied with an easy shrug. “Still, we should pick up extra fuel blocks in person today; we can never have too many thermal units.
“I even located a chemical factory on the southern industrial belt that manufactures solid fuel blocks,” she added, sliding her navigation map toward him. “I plan to mount a supply raid out there once the dust settles.
“After the opening disasters pass and we integrate into a stable regional base, I fully intend to resume my career as a merchant,” she stated, tapping the leather steering wheel with clear resolve. “If I awaken an elemental superpower, wonderful; if not, I’ll hire reliable combat operatives with grain.
“We can barter essential staples with the settlement administration while trading luxury comforts directly with ordinary survivors. Even if we price our inventory slightly below standard market rates, it’s fine.”
As long as the base leadership maintained a strict, uncorrupted baseline, there would be no tolerance for extortionate black-market syndicates.
Coincidentally, many of the bulk supplies the little hamster had gathered—aside from his personal hoard of milk tea and roasted peanuts—were specifically aimed at aiding ordinary people.
“Take solid fuel blocks, raw sugar, iodized salt, winter parkas, utility sleds, and snowmobiles, for example,” Tianwei continued. “Not to mention the domestic motorcycles your uncle sourced through his logistics network, currently sitting in bonded depots across two neighboring cities.
“Ordinary survivors rarely know how to pilot motorcycles, but they make exceptional scouts for perimeter foraging and salvage runs. They’re far more practical for weaving through ruined highway jams and hunting roaming stragglers than clumsy family sedans.
“With basic field modifications, a rugged dirt bike handles deep snow and shallow mud with ease. Their fuel efficiency and maneuverability leave four-wheeled vehicles in the dust. We couldn’t source enough spare all-terrain tires on short notice, so we’re buying up whatever regional stock we can lay our hands on.
“The volume is immense, however. After you fell asleep last night, Dad and I spent hours debating where to stage them.” Stashing everything inside Yu Xiaoyuan’s personal space was logistically impossible; this initial batch alone contained over a hundred domestic motorcycles, thirty heavy imported touring bikes, barrels of synthetic motor oil, specialized maintenance components, and stacks of spare tires. It was essentially the footprint of an entire commercial depot.
Leaving them in an urban warehouse was equally out of the question; the impending Seven Disasters featured a week of biblical downpours, meaning catastrophic urban flooding would submerge and ruin the machinery.
“And if we leave them in a public logistics park, Dad worries the freight handlers will remember the shipment and loot the depot the moment society collapses,” Tianwei noted. That would simply be paving the way for someone else’s empire—an outcome Yu Yuanzhou flatly refused to accept.
“Our current strategy is to stage the vehicles at an inland urban depot for immediate transit,” she explained, glancing sideways at her brother. “From there, we route them into high-elevation granite caves out in the mountains, minimizing both flood exposure and seismic collapse. Can you temporarily pack them into your space and offload them directly inside the caverns? You can pull other bulk goods out into the open to make room if needed.
“On top of that, Dad secured reinforced custom off-road rigs, heavy four-wheel-drive haulers, and several commercial flatbeds.
“The Yu Corporation operates a large freight transport fleet. Once the crisis hits, desperate survivors will inevitably break into our corporate depots to hotwire vehicles, which serves as their own fighting chance at life.” Tianwei had no desire to hoard every commercial asset in the city. “Most ordinary refugees won’t target thirty-ton commercial freight haulers anyway; the fuel consumption is far too punishing for civilian travel.”
Desperate survivors might siphon the tanks for their personal sedans, but driving a heavy commercial hauler through ruined streets was impractical—unless a coordinated survivor faction was attempting to sweep industrial warehouses during the opening chaos, or an early settlement authority needed heavy logistics to fortify a base.
Yu Yuanzhou intended to claim his company’s heavy fleet in advance rather than leave them sitting as free handouts for opportunists. Those assets belonged to the Yu family; he fully intended to leverage his pre-apocalyptic infrastructure to secure their social standing and survival in the new world order.
Yu Xiaoyuan listened quietly, his mind swimming slightly with the scale of the plan. Yet it was unmistakably clear that sharing the digital countdown with his family had shattered their lingering complacency.
The psychological pressure had landed, driving them to mobilize every ounce of their vast corporate influence.
What Yu Xiaoyuan didn’t fully grasp was that Yu Yuanzhou had prepared two distinct operational contingencies.
He intended to establish their primary staging cache inside the deep cavern networks of Mount Qingyan. The mountain system was immense, featuring an endless labyrinth of limestone caves and subterranean chambers. Armed with geological surveys and speleological maps, Yu Yuanzhou planned to have the little hamster cache the machinery deep within an isolated chamber.
Once the perimeter was structurally camouflaged, if the cataclysm unfolded as predicted, he would detonate controlled charges to collapse the outer access corridor, sealing the trucks, motorcycles, and drums of high-octane fuel beneath a fortress of solid rock.
Whenever the family needed fresh transport down the road, Yu Xiaoyuan would simply shift into his tiny hamster form, wriggle through the rubble fractures into the sealed cavern, pull the vehicles into his spatial pocket, and crawl back out into the light. In his mouse form, he was completely undetectable.
Even if rival factions suspected a cache existed somewhere in Mount Qingyan, the mountain range spanned hundreds of square miles. Finding the exact fissure would be like searching for a needle in the ocean—and even if they stumbled upon the site, clearing tons of blasted granite by hand was virtually impossible. Yu Yuanzhou was confident he would catch wind of any heavy excavation equipment moving into the valley long before they breached the rock.
When that happened, the little hamster could easily slip inside, swallow the entire inventory, and ferry it into another subterranean cave on the opposite ridge, leaving the looters with nothing but empty hands and wasted labor.
And because Mount Qingyan lay right along the outer perimeter of the metropolitan ring road, the transit route was short. If the apocalyptic countdown proved to be an illusion, Yu Xiaoyuan could simply haul the vehicles back to the corporate logistics hub within hours. With surveillance feeds disrupted and internal logs cleared, the lower-level warehouse clerks would hardly question why a fleet had gone missing for an afternoon.
Yu Yuanzhou had calculated every angle with ruthless precision.
The only bottleneck was time: gathering such a vast armada of heavy machinery required an astronomical volume of diesel and gasoline. Even for a corporate giant like the Yu Corporation, purchasing massive fuel reserves on short notice without triggering state energy audits was exceptionally difficult.
Yu Yuanzhou had spent the night reviewing commercial supply chains, and by dawn he had arranged meetings with Mu Feiyi and an old industrial ally to explore discrete procurement avenues. While Mu Feiyi had formally stepped down from his family conglomerate, his private logistics network and overseas shipping contacts remained razor-sharp.
More importantly, Yu Yuanzhou knew the young man’s greatest asset was his ironclad discretion.
With three distinct channels moving fuel simultaneously, they would be able to amass a formidable reserve of petroleum before the zero hour.
Beside her, Tianwei felt a lingering prick of guilt, worried that she and her father had moved too slowly, leaving her younger brother to shoulder the terror of the countdown alone.
“Down the road, we can trade surplus fuel and machinery for evolution crystals, rare seeds, or whatever else you need,” she said gently, looking at her quiet brother. “How does that sound to you?”
“I’ll follow your lead, Sister,” Yu Xiaoyuan replied with an earnest smile. He had little interest in high-level trade logistics, but seeing his sister take charge filled him with deep admiration. “Whatever you decide, I support you completely.”
“Silly boy,” Tianwei murmured, reaching over to ruffle his soft hair. “Come on—we’ve arrived at our first stop.”
While Yu Yuanzhou focused on strategic infrastructure and macroscopic survival, Tianwei directed her sharp executive mind toward the intimate domestic realities of their household: nutrition, comfort, and the endless practical necessities of daily life. She had spent the night compiling exhaustive supply lists.
Their first stop was an expansive, membership-only wholesale warehouse club built on a scale of vast consumer abundance.
Fresh meats were sold exclusively in multi-kilogram slabs, farm produce was packed in wooden shipping crates, and dry snacks came in colossal commercial tubs.
The moment Tianwei pushed through the turnstiles, she targeted the fresh produce and refrigerated walk-in vaults: artisanal dumplings, frozen glutinous rice balls, steamed buns, Cantonese wontons, deep-dish pizzas, seasoned french fries, sweet eight-treasure rice cakes, and flaky scallion pancakes.
Each sibling pushed a heavy flatbed cart, piling them so high that warehouse attendants had to escort them to the commercial loading bay to process the transaction. Tianwei tapped her platinum card against the terminal without glancing at the total, and within minutes, the supermarket’s logistics team was systematically loading the sealed cases directly into the utility truck’s bay.
“Instant ramen or instant vermicelli?” Yu Tianwei asked, pushing her cart down the aisle. “What flavors do you like?”
“Anything, really! The little hamster isn’t picky—I eat everything,” Yu Xiaoyuan chirped, eagerly scanning the towering shelves for his personal favorites. He spotted an artisanal stone-pot beef ramen and lit up. “This one’s fantastic!”
He tossed three cases into the cart, followed by a generous stack of UFO-brand stir-fried noodles—those were an absolute staple. Buckwheat noodles caught his eye next; he threw in several crates just to keep their meal options varied. Seeing premium Korean brand-name packets that required stovetop boiling, he added a few dozen as well, perfect for cooking over a camp burner on slow evenings.
“Sister, do you want any extra-spicy fire chicken noodles?” he asked, tilting his head. He couldn’t handle the heat himself, but he was more than happy to grab some if she enjoyed them.
“Our household doesn’t tolerate heavy spice, but grab several crates anyway—spicy noodles make prime barter goods in the wasteland.” Meanwhile, Tianwei flagged down the wholesale department clerk trailing them, gesturing toward the displays of pickled cabbage beef noodles and classic braised beef bowls. “Get us twenty wholesale bundles of each flavor, packaged in standard five-count sets.”
She moved down the aisle to the premium noodle collections, selecting cases of tangy pork bone ramen. Rich, savory broth noodles were exceptional comfort food, and having a diverse rotation of flavors would keep morale high when the world outside fell apart.
Tianwei had no idea when civilization might rebuild, so her operating philosophy was straightforward: stockpile everything within reach.
“Which self-heating claypot flavors do you want?” she asked, crouching down beside the prepared meal displays.
“Tomato braised beef brisket!” Yu Xiaoyuan crouched beside her. “Sister, we need to buy out this entire brand’s inventory.” He had stashed a few cartons earlier, but self-heating hot pots were an absolute godsend when building an open fire was too dangerous. “Their mixed bibimbap bowls are delicious too—I already took a bunch. And look, they make instant tomato beef vermicelli cups that only need boiling water.”
He held up a brightly labeled sample for her to see. “I bought jars of dehydrated soup vegetables earlier. Drop a handful in, let it steep, and it’s practically a restaurant meal.”
“Then let’s take all of them. A standard master case holds forty-eight tins. Give me two full cases of every variety on the shelf, and double the tomato brisket,” Tianwei directed the sales associate smoothly. “Do you carry alternative manufacturers for vacuum-sealed mixed grains and glass noodle bowls?”
“Yes, Miss. Our regional distribution network stocks several premium lines,” the clerk answered promptly, bowing with polished deference. While he didn’t know their family background, their designer tailoring and casual, confident posture made it obvious they belonged to the city’s financial elite. For all he knew, these eccentric billionaires were filming a reality challenge or outfitting an underground survival compound. “If you’d like, I can have our commercial kitchen prepare tasting samples.”
“Skip the samples—just send two full master cases of every single SKU,” Tianwei cut in, checking her wristwatch with a slight frown. “Have all the boxed dry goods palletized and express-freighted directly to our villa estate. Pack the fresh meats, seafood, and refrigerated items into the back of our utility truck immediately.”
“Right away, Miss Yu.”
Taking up her master clipboard, Tianwei marched toward the commercial housewares section. She cleared out displays of cast-iron pans, ceramic mixing bowls, microfiber dishcloths, stainless steel cutlery sets, seasoning grinders, and industrial towel packs.
Pausing beside the personal care aisle, she caught Yu Xiaoyuan’s eye as he tossed wholesale bundles into the basket. “All of these—maxi pads, ultra-thin liners, organic tampons, and medical-grade silicone menstrual cups.”
In an extended post-apocalyptic collapse, reusable menstrual cups were infinitely more sustainable for ordinary women than disposable paper products. Even though her brother had already bought an impressive hoard of sanitary pads on his own, Tianwei insisted on expanding their reserves. When basic manufacturing halted, hygiene supplies would be worth their weight in gold.
“Add twenty industrial sewing kits,” she continued, rattling off domestic necessities. “Spare metal buttons, heavy-duty snap fasteners, reinforced elastic webbing, and assorted nylon zippers.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss, but our general warehouse doesn’t stock haberdashery fasteners,” the clerk apologized with a bow. “However, our hardware section carries carbon steel utility blades, box cutters, industrial kitchen shears, heavy bone cleavers, imported chef’s knives, and multi-grit whetstones.”
Tianwei inspected the cutlery section and found the selection adequate, purchasing several complete sets to establish a baseline. It was a broad-market wholesale club, heavily weighted toward bulk food rather than specialized hardware.
By the time they cleared the loading dock, the clock read eleven-thirty in the morning. Squeezing every minute out of their run, they had operated at a military tempo, yet coordinating logistics and loading pallets had still burned over two hours.
Back inside the cab of the utility truck, the two siblings tore into freshly baked baguettes to stave off hunger. “Next stop: the regional small commodities wholesale mart,” Tianwei said, chewing quickly.
She had realized supermarkets were too limited for specialty hardware. If they wanted commercial rolls of magnetic closures, industrial snap presses, heavy hot-glue guns, and endless boxes of adhesive sticks, they needed the wholesale trade district.
The small commodities mart was an entirely different beast. Wandering the narrow trade aisles, Tianwei quickly spotted tools she recognized from industrial manufacturing—such as pneumatic snap-setting pliers. They allowed a user to punch high-strength metal fasteners into thick canvas or heavy denim with a single squeeze.
Such tools were invaluable. In ordinary life, nobody thought twice about fasteners. But in the frozen wastes of a post-apocalyptic winter, being able to cut up down comforters, seal heavy canvas doors, or construct draft-proof window flaps on the fly would mean the difference between life and death.
Under a functioning industrial economy, these household sundries were cheap, abundant, and taken entirely for granted. Yet once global supply chains fractured, replicating them was virtually impossible. Going without small, essential hardware was maddening, and makeshift substitutes rarely held up.
Tianwei steered Yu Xiaoyuan through stall after stall. They purchased self-threading surgical needles, industrial spool thread, high-tensile braided kite cord, horn buttons, compressed wood-pulp sponges, compact mirrors, anti-fog lens coatings, heavy-duty replacement zipper sliders, vacuum-seal storage pouches, commercial adhesives, cyanoacrylate superglue, double-sided acrylic tape, and cases of surgical steel nail clippers!
The sheer variety was dizzying. They were items nobody remembered to buy until they were desperately needed.
Yu Xiaoyuan felt lightheaded just watching the transactions, though the shopkeepers were over the moon, swiping platinum credit cards and rolling pallet jacks to the truck for this free-spending young heiress.
Tianwei had originally planned to sweep all five wholesale centers in a single day, but by the time they rolled out of the trade mart, the afternoon sun had already dipped past four o’clock.
Slumping against the steering wheel, she took a long, restorative gulp of iced milk tea.
“I didn’t even waste thirty seconds haggling, just to save daylight!” she groaned, annoyed at how quickly the hours had vanished. “To the next warehouse club—move!”
As she navigated through afternoon traffic, Yu Xiaoyuan slipped into the enclosed cargo bay, methodically sweeping the packed pallets into his spatial realm to clear the deck.
Phew. He had never considered these household details; his sister’s practical foresight was truly astonishing.
By the time they pulled away from the second wholesale club, it was seven-fifteen in the evening. Driven by sheer willpower, Tianwei dragged her brother to the third destination across town, completing their transactions right as the warehouse staff rolled down the security shutters.
It was nearly eleven o’clock when the siblings finally stumbled back through the front door of their suburban villa. Collapsing onto the living room rug, they lay flat like sun-dried fish, lacking the strength to lift a single finger.
Tianwei could afford to rest, but Yu Xiaoyuan couldn’t. He looked across the foyer at the towers of sealed milk tea cups and restaurant takeout boxes his uncle had gathered from various courier drop points throughout the day.
Worse still, the bulk grain delivery waiting at the suburban warehouse had to be cleared tonight, before Senior Qian’s father arrived with the next truckload at dawn.
Ugh… The little hamster was so exhausted he could cry.
Seeing his nephew’s glazed expression, Yu Yuanzhou drove the boy out to the suburban logistics depot himself. Sitting in the truck bed, Yu Xiaoyuan didn’t bother stuffing the crates into his cheek pouches; he simply channeled his spiritual awareness, transferring everything directly into the Kuntian Jade’s static storage vault.
It was fast, effortless, and required no heavy lifting, provided his spiritual aura blanketed the cargo. Every meal, container, and wholesale crate they had purchased throughout the frantic day was stored the exact same way—swept into the void without systematic cataloging.
The advantage was sheer speed. The nightmare was that if he couldn’t recall what he had stashed, it would remain lost in the dimensional vault forever. Otherwise, he would have to spend hours projecting his consciousness across endless rows of unmarked cardboard boxes.
Just imagining the monumental task of organizing the chaos made the little hamster want to suffocate in despair.
“Aaargh!” Shifting into his hamster form, he rolled dramatically across the carpet in the villa’s study, letting out tiny squeaks of pure exhaustion.
Propping herself up from the floorboards, Tianwei ended her late-night phone call with foreign logistics handlers. “Brace yourself—there’s more bad news. Once you finish organizing the local depot tomorrow, the tactical equipment overseas will be ready for pickup.”
Time for a red-eye flight out of the country.
The little hamster sniffled, his tiny pink nose twitching as he dissolved into theatrical tears. “Waaah QAQ!”
Life is so hard for a little hamster! I’m being worked to the bone! I’m going to lose an entire layer of fur!
“Wait!” Tianwei suddenly bolted upright, slapping her forehead. “I completely forgot to buy laundry detergent and powdered soap!”
little hamster: “…”
“Squeak, squeak, squeak!!!” Aaargh! You’ve got to be kidding me!
“I’ll take him out myself tomorrow morning to buy them,” Yu Yuanzhou stepped in, taking pity on the overwhelmed creature. “We’ll clear a supply run, stash the haul into his space, and then handle the logistics.
“Besides, Little Yuan needs to stop by our secondary villa estate tomorrow. The industrial heating fuels my assistant and Tianwei’s staff ordered—the pressurized alcohol blocks and charcoal—are scheduled for delivery at nine sharp. You must stow those inside your dimension immediately; leaving volatile flammables sitting around a suburban home is far too dangerous.”
“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm!”
The little hamster nodded frantically, scurrying across the floorboards to burrow his head beneath the low edge of the sofa.
Good night, Uncle. The little hamster is going to sleep right this second.
It was past midnight, and his tiny eyelids were practically glued shut with fatigue.
Crouching down, Yu Yuanzhou gently retrieved the furball from under the couch, placed him into the plush acrylic habitat Tianwei had customized, and switched off the desk lamp. Waving toward his daughter, he said, “Go to bed, Tianwei. Get some rest.”
Tianwei glanced at the glowing digital countdown suspended in her vision and let out a weary sigh. “At this point, even closing my eyes feels like a luxury—almost like a crime.”
“No matter how guilty you feel, sleep is non-negotiable. How do you expect to survive tomorrow’s supply runs if you collapse tonight?” Yu Yuanzhou muttered, turning off the main chandelier as he headed upstairs. “I need to coordinate the recall of our corporate freight fleet at dawn anyway.
“I still don’t understand why this cataclysm is falling upon us. If only there were a way to nip it in the bud…”
Down below in the darkened room, the little hamster was already buried deep beneath the fragrant wood shavings of his miniature wooden house, snoring softly.
He had arrived in this world barely ten days ago, and between the relentless hoarding and frantic preparation, he hadn’t even found the time to consult his spiritual guidance system.
Standard protocol for lower-tier spirits assigned to mortal realms included a comprehensive narrative transcript outlining the “original plot.” Because Yu Xiaoyuan had inherited the original owner’s memories—which detailed the early conflicts with the female lead—he had set the text aside to focus entirely on physical survival.
His original plan had been to wait until the Seven Disasters struck. Once their household was sealed inside the mountaintop bunker, his uncle and sister could spend their days sorting through the provisions in the Kuntian Jade. That would give the little hamster a chance to put his paws up, take a well-deserved nap, and casually skim through the rest of the world’s scripted timeline.
Curled in his bedding, the hamster rolled onto his spine, plush tummy facing the ceiling, his four pink paws sprawled wide.
He was substantially softer, rounder, and larger than any common domestic breed. Cradled in a human hand, he looked like a plump ball of velvet dough, yet beneath that plush fur lay remarkable spiritual agility. When he bolted at full speed, neither his sister, his uncle, nor even Mu Feiyi could easily catch him.
Drifting deep into dreams, the little hamster smacked his lips as if savoring a rare delicacy.
Chirp!
Chest muscles! The little hamster’s favorite, perfectly contoured chest muscles!
Don’t move… don’t run away~
A faint wisp of heavenly lightning, drifting silently across the cosmic boundary, paused in utter bewilderment: …What on earth?
