In his eyes, two bags of 20-pound Fortune Crystal Rice were placed at the bottom layer of the cabinet, while condints like Shanxi aged vinegar and Lee Kum Kee soy sauce were neatly categorized and placed in specific compartnts.
Apart from that, the cabinet was mostly stocked with various drinks and wines. Although Tang Xiaoquan didn’t know much about alcohol, judging by their exquisite packaging, the prices must be quite high.
Tilting his head slightly, Tang Xiaoquan turned his gaze to Du Jiancheng behind him.
"How is it? A-Cheng, did you find anything?"
"I did, but..." With a mournful face, A-Cheng stepped aside, allowing the box in front of him to be seen.
Tang Xiaoquan leaned forward to take a look: Whoa, no kidding, a blinding sea of red.
He instinctively blinked twice and muttered to himself, "Damn, jackpot, it’s Soft Chunghwa!"
Indeed, inside the light-yellow five-ply packing box were rows of items with the "Chunghwa" label.
Tang Xiaoquan reached out and pulled out one package, tore off the plastic wrap, and took out a pack.
Excitent was Tang Xiaoquan’s most genuine feeling at that mont. For soone like him, who just graduated not long ago and had a ager salary, Soft Chunghwa was sothing he longed for but couldn’t afford.
Casually pulling out a cigarette, Tang Xiaoquan waved the pack towards A-Cheng, indicating if he wanted to try one too.
But A-Cheng seed utterly uninterested. To him, these things were less than worthless. If given a choice, he’d rather have a stead bun.
Decisively shaking his head, A-Cheng politely declined.
Tang Xiaoquan didn’t mind this; he wasn’t the type to care about trivial matters.
Taking a sniff, Tang Xiaoquan indulgently clicked his tongue repeatedly, saying, "Tsk, tsk, fragrant, truly the finest of tobacco."
Eagerly, he pulled out a cheap lighter from his pocket, flicked the flint, and a red-blue fla appeared out of nowhere.
He held the cigarette close to the fla for a mont, and instantly, a rich aroma wafted out.
As the smoke wafted out, Tang Xiaoquan felt invigorated, as if all his fatigue had been swept away.
"Are you sure you don’t want a puff?" He recomnded it to A-Cheng once more, but the latter still showed no interest, rely waving his hand. To this, Tang Xiaoquan could only pout slightly in regret and then...
Pinching the cigarette between two fingers, Tang Xiaoquan gently placed it in his mouth, then taking a deep breath, the distinctive flavor of nicotine cycled briefly through his system and entered his nostrils, then exhaled.
The imagined high-quality taste didn’t appear, and Tang Xiaoquan even felt the smoke was no different from the cheap cigarettes he usually smoked for nine yuan a pack.
This huge gap quickly killed his interest in this so-called "national treasure," so he turned his gaze toward the last cabinet on the side.
As usual, reaching out to open the cabinet door, there was a safe inside. Tang Xiaoquan pulled it out, shook it twice in the air, and could hear paper rustling inside, which indicated, not surprisingly, that there might be "Grandpa Mao" ssing around inside.
However, these bills, in the context of the apocalypse, were clearly of no significant use. At least for now, until social order was fully restored, money was no different than toilet paper—perhaps even less useful, since at least toilet paper could be used for that, whereas these bills...
After all, everything now is ownerless, even if you rob a bank, no one will stop you, but the problem is, do you have the courage and ability to move around this city filled with zombies?
Since the tal in his hand was useless to him, Tang Xiaoquan saw no need to waste further ti on it.
So...
Continuing to search within the cabinet, he quickly made a new discovery.
There was a white plastic box with a red cross emblem indicating its purpose.
"It’s a dical kit!" He muttered to himself without any hesitation, reaching out to take it out.
Undoubtedly, in the apocalypse, fatalities caused by minor injuries and illnesses might very well be higher than the virus’s own mortality rate.
The reason for this is the scarcity of dical supplies and the primitive living conditions faced by survivors.
And now, the dical kit in front of Tang Xiaoquan, judging by its appearance, seed to be opened for the first ti, given its spotless condition, without signs of being used.
He unlatched the nearly 10-centiter high "dical kit" and lifted the cover. Though he had often heard survival show hosts ntion such kits, it was the first ti he’d actually seen one.
Inside the box were compartnts of various sizes, each containing the appropriate dical items, from iodine and plasters for treating skin wounds, to splints and bandages for fractures and burns. Truly, though small, the kit was comprehensive.
Moreover, Tang Xiaoquan even found survival items like a compass and a Swiss army knife in the inner pocket of the box.
It seems these expert-recomnded household dical kits weren’t purely a comrcial gimmick!
Silently evaluating it in his mind, Tang Xiaoquan securely closed the dical kit.
This thing was definitely a treasure. It might even save his life in the future.
He contentedly patted the box’s surface. Tang Xiaoquan was very satisfied with today’s search results. Not only did they find extra food supplies, but also a life-saving dical kit, and, of course, n’s spiritual sustenance—cigarettes and fine wine!
When everyone woke from chaotic dreams, it was almost dusk.
Hu Xiaodong reluctantly opened his eyes, and the lingering effects of the liquor still made his head dizzy.
"Uh, what the hell ti is it?" Wang Qiang struggled to sit up, rubbing his aching temples with his large hands, his face full of confusion.
"It’s 6 PM now, everyone should have so tea to sober up," said Tang Xiaoquan, as he brought over the strong tea he had brewed earlier, distributing a cup to each person.
Wen Quanxin’s parched throat felt like it was on fire, so when the tea was brought over, he paid no mind to anything else, blowing on it lightly before downing it without hesitation.
"How’s everything, Xiao Tang? Any issues since we’ve been out?" Slowly straightening up, Hu Xiaodong stepped to the window.
He lifted a corner of the curtain, letting a strip of the setting sun’s light stream into the room.
"Everything’s still smooth, but those creatures show no signs of dispersing, so to be safe, we shouldn’t turn on any lights at night. Let’s use this for lighting!"
With that, Tang Xiaoquan placed several candles he had found in the storage room on the table, snapped his fingers, and instructed toward the living room, "A-Cheng, serve dinner!"
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