In mere moments, Cheng Shuli could see her breath fogging in the air.
The temperature was still plummeting. A shiver ran through her, and she snapped to attention—this wouldn't do. She hurriedly slipped into the Polar Insulated Suit, then turned her focus back to the heating stove.
[Advanced Heating Stove (Unlit)]
[Current Fuel Burn Time: 7 Days]
It needed to be lit?
Cheng Shuli slapped her forehead. She'd assumed it was automatic.
Rummaging through her supply pile, she fished out a pack of matches—a lucky find from a glitched supply crate long ago.
Fifteen matches. Plenty.
She lit a tissue and tossed it into the stove. The cart's interior warmed at an almost unnatural pace.
Soon, the Polar Insulated Suit adjusted, maintaining a perfect temperature, even releasing a faint coolness to counteract the heat.
A double-edged sword.
It meant that once the firewood ran out, the cart's temperature would plummet to match the outside.
But that was a problem for future Cheng Shuli.
She peeled off the suit and set it by the door—like a winter coat, ready to grab when heading out.
After tidying her supplies, she sank back onto the sofa and opened the regional chat out of habit. A chorus of despair greeted her.
[Embrace]: Anyone got hot water? I'm freezing to death here.
[Gentle]: I'm wearing six layers, topped with a winter parka. It's useless.
[Moon]: Anyone have warm clothes? I'll trade food—I've got a self-heating rice box. Those with heating stoves don't need winter gear, right? My friend sent me the stove's description.
[East Flow]: I'll trade you a cotton jacket. DM for details.
[Six Days]: Hold up, keep some for yourself. You can't stay glued to your stove forever. What, you gonna drag it out to open supply crates?
[East Flow]: Damn, good point. @Moon, deal's off.
Watching his prize slip away, Moon exploded, pinging [Six Days] in the chat with a threat.
[Moon]: @SixDays, mind your own business.
This kind of drama unfolded constantly. Cheng Shuli watched with mild amusement, unbothered.
Glancing at her friend list, she saw two familiar avatars and sent a quick message.
[Crow Takes Flight]: Got enough heating gear?
Liang Shanbo replied almost instantly, clearly glued to the chat's squabble.
[Liang Shanbo And Pig Hard On]: I'm good for now. The stove's super cozy—my winter stuff's just sitting unused in the cart.
[Crow Takes Flight]: Good.
A single word. As long as they were fine, that was enough.
These two were long-term allies, and Cheng Shuli would lend a hand where she could.
Liang Shanbo, the naive sweetheart, hadn't jacked up the price on that fine steel dagger and even hooked her up with winter gear—useless now, but the gesture counted.
Wan Yi, her reliable meal ticket, was the key to her food quality. In a way, Cheng Shuli's diet depended on Wan Yi's cooking.
Still, being so reliant on someone else rankled. She frowned instinctively.
Then it hit her: Wan Yi was the one reliant on her. The fresh ingredients for Wan Yi's meals came from Cheng Shuli's fridge, delivered every time.
They were a symbiotic duo—losing either would be a massive blow.
Wan Yi hadn't replied.
Cheng Shuli figured she'd turned in early. It was nearly 1 a.m.
She cast one last glance at the truck parked behind her.
Tomorrow, she'd rise early. That truck was a potential threat.
At the crack of dawn, after less than six hours of sleep, Cheng Shuli's eyes snapped open at 7 a.m.
She peered out the window, expecting the usual grotesque monster faces. Instead, she saw oil-slicked creatures buried in snow, only their eyes peeking out, looking… oddly adorable.
Cheng Shuli: "…"
Propping herself up, she leaned closer to the window, incredulous.
She wasn't imagining it—these monsters were a hundred times dumber than she'd thought.
Snow had fallen overnight, and the oil monsters had stood stock-still, letting it pile up on their heads into pointed caps. Not one had bothered to shake it off.
When they met Cheng Shuli's gaze, they perked up, howling "Awoo~ Awoo~" and shaking snow at her like a bizarre performance.
Honestly, kind of romantic.
Cheng Shuli snorted and slipped out of her sleeping bag, wearing just a t-shirt.
Last night's sleep had been restless. The cart's warmth made the sleeping bag stifling, and something cold and hard had jolted her awake multiple times.
Only now did she remember: the mineral water bottles she'd tucked into the bag to keep from freezing.
Cheng Shuli: "…"
Sometimes, she wished she could beg herself to be less paranoid.
Then again, she'd probably stay paranoid on her knees.
In shorts and a tee, she splashed icy water on her face at the sink, instantly alert. Without bothering to dry off, she moved to the back of the cart to check on the truck.
Gone.
The highway merge must have ended.
She didn't let her guard down. Tucking the fine steel dagger into her waistband, she slid open the door and stepped out.
The stove kept a three-meter radius around the cart as warm as the interior.
Cheng Shuli planned to do some tai chi for her morning workout while scoping out the surroundings for other vehicles.
By 8 a.m., nothing.
Highway merges often sparked fights, but either the system was cutting her a break, or merges had a cooldown.
No other vehicles in sight.
Yawning lazily, she ignored the monsters eyeing her from beyond the warm zone and half-heartedly struck a tai chi starting pose.
Morning exercise was morning exercise—didn't matter what she did.
She went through the motions, feeling no strain, not even breaking a sweat.
Still, her joints felt looser, which was why she'd kept at it these past days.
A message from Wan Yi pinged. Checking it, Cheng Shuli saw several from 6 a.m.
[Wan Yi]: Crashed early last night, missed your message. Just woke up freezing.
[Wan Yi]: I'm okay now, but firewood's low. I'm betting today's supply crates might have some, though. System wouldn't let us burn out completely, right?
[Wan Yi]: What's for breakfast?
[Wan Yi]: I've got preserved eggs and meat. How about preserved egg and lean pork congee? Hope it's not on your no-eat list.
"You've received a gift from player WanYi: Preserved Egg and Lean Pork Congee x756g."