Famine 102: Fruit Milk Tea and Iced Drinks Shop

On the other side of the Holy Grail, there was nothing but utter, impenetrable darkness—not even a hand in front of one’s face was visible.

It was exactly like before, when inside the Frosthorn Rabbit.

Si Zhiyan called out, “Anderson?”

From the darkness came a rapid commotion as the beam of a flashlight flicked on, revealing Anderson’s face at the cave entrance: “Here, sir.”

It turned out that while Si Zhiyan was busy with preparations, Shen Dongming had led several people down through the crevice on ropes.

Once they reached the bottom, Anderson understood why Shen Dongming had said, “There are many people, but it isn’t a large settlement.”

Beneath the molten surface, down over a hundred meters deep, lay a network of caves.

Beneath the layer of searing rock sprawled tens of thousands of underground caverns, varying in size.

Some of these caves were as large as several football fields, others no bigger than a bathroom. Their depth and shape varied; their stability was likewise unpredictable.

—It was said that some extremely rare caverns might even have water sources. But those must be controlled by major powers, who managed to profit quietly from their good fortune… At any rate, Shen Dongming had never heard of one personally.

These caverns were scattered throughout the entire molten region, interconnected by all manner of underground passageways. Some resembled canyons, others the beds of dried-up subterranean rivers. Above hung stalactites, and the roads twisted and branched in all directions.

The airflow here was barely decent—enough to prevent suffocation—but water was still lacking, the air dry, and sunlight forever absent.

Si Zhiyan asked, “How is the temperature?”

Anderson thought for a moment before replying, “It’s rather stuffy, about thirty degrees Celsius at the moment. At night it’s said to drop into the twenties, but it remains humid. At least it’s not hot enough for heatstroke, nor plagued by sand or lava. Compared to sandstorms above, rocketing to forty or fifty degrees, this is much better.”

“In the molten region, any player who has managed to survive to this day is likely living in the underground network now.”

“Understood, thank you. Then placing the shop at a main route within the cave network seems quite suitable,” Si Zhiyan said. “Did you manage to scout a specific location?”

Anderson sighed. “The situation is somewhat complicated, sir.”

Along the way, he had examined numerous main paths and several large, well-situated caverns.

Yet all such places had long since been seized by powerful groups, barricaded and made nearly inaccessible to outsiders.
Some factions even set themselves up as lords, deliberately occupying sole passageways to the exits and levying tolls on all who passed.

In a lawless apocalypse, the jungle law was this ruthless.

Teams like Teacher Shen’s could only hide quietly away, squeezed into the less desirable, smaller caves.

Fortunately, there were many, and even at the edges, the smaller caves offered some shelter.

Because resources were so scarce—and to avoid drawing trouble—no one dared light any lamps.

Anderson struck a cluster of blue fire, illuminating the scene for Si Zhiyan—

Countless pairs of eyes shone out from the darkness.

There were roughly thirty or forty sparkling, youthful eyes, all staring this way.

Teacher Shen’s camp was about the size of an average house, its floor uneven rock, the ceiling an irregular arch peaking at over three meters high and narrowing to a meter near the walls—a cramped space, not truly spacious. It had something of a mole’s nest about it.

The teenagers—boys and girls, some as old as eighteen or nineteen, some as young as thirteen or fourteen—were huddled together in this cramped cave, most bearing some injury or bloodstain.

Like a pack of small animals banded together, they clustered close, bustling as if to protect something. Their gazes were wary, yet full of irrepressible curiosity, reflecting the blue fire as they looked toward Si Zhiyan.

“What’s behind them?” Si Zhiyan asked.

Shen Dongming coughed and rasped, “It’s alright, children, let the gentleman have a look.”

The teenagers parted.

At the rear, a gaunt middle-aged woman lay on a cot. Deep wrinkles lined her face, her cracked lips caked with blood, and her whole body bore a sickly dark hue—clear signs of heatstroke, dehydration, and having been baked by high temperatures.

This was none other than Shen Dongming’s wife, the female teacher Lin Yanqing.

Her cot had been placed in the broadest, most comfortable corner of the irregular cave. From the slight flutter at her temple, there was even a trace of ventilation to be found.
All the children used their bodies to shield her. Even if outsiders came to slaughter everyone, Lin Yanqing would not be the first to die.

“Ms. Lin fell this ill trying to find us water, after she was harmed by the strange sunburn,” Qiu Youqing whispered hoarsely. “We really don’t have enough water. If we don’t find some soon, she’ll…”

The last cup sat by her bed, every drop now gone. @All the best stories at Jinjiang Literature City
@All the best stories at Jinjiang Literature City
This was why Qiu Youqing had risked life and limb, running out to search for water, even stealing from powerful players.

“She won’t last much longer.”

“And…?”

“Outside the door—through a narrow crevice, to the ‘canyon’, turn left at the end, there’s a chamber, just about fifty square meters in size.”

“…Carry Ms. Lin on your back.”

Some of the teenagers stood anxiously before Lin Yanqing. Shen Dongming steadied her, nodded to Anderson, and lifted his wife himself.

…………
……

Outside, the passage was just as dark as before.

The darkness and stifling heat pressed in. Anderson held the Holy Grail, squeezing through narrow gaps, sometimes having to turn sideways just to pass. Even the so-called “canyon” beyond was barely two or three meters wide at best, no more than a corridor.

The players survived in conditions such as these.

The place known as “Waterdrop Village” was nothing but a narrowing opening—a smooth, round patch of ground. Overhead hung a cluster of stalactites. The child who named it had once sat here for a whole day, knees hugged to chest, staring upward with hope that a droplet of water would one day fall.

None ever did. Every inch of the cave’s interior was excruciatingly dry and stifling. In this light, the name seemed almost cruel.

That didn’t matter though; though remote, the basic conditions were met.

———

A sacred white glow began to radiate from the Holy Grail in Anderson’s hand, slicing through the blackness.

Pure, moist vapor, seemingly alive, gradually filled the cup and then overflowed, flowing forth until it spread across the ground…

At the far edge of the mist, Si Zhiyan’s shadowy, black-clad figure drifted in and out of sight, half veiled behind the water vapor.

“Sir, you’re here,” Anderson said respectfully. Wang Jianguo and the other team members stood behind him, bowing in unison.

The children and teachers dared not speak and clustered together. So this was the one they pledged loyalty to… He seemed almost divine. Shen Dongming unconsciously softened his breathing, feeling both awe and—mixed in—an irrepressible sliver of hope.

What would he do?

Si Zhiyan lifted his hand slightly, fingers moving with delicate precision.

Vmm!!

A cold white light burst forth amid the sweltering blackness, and almost too fast for the eye, a small building unfolded, slotting perfectly into Waterdrop Village.

Beneath the tidy, elegant bar counter, piles upon piles of ice were stacked. The glass display case brimmed with vibrant, drippingly fresh smoothies; with parfaits piled with cream and candy; with heaps of juicy, dew-fresh fruit, beads of water still gleaming on their skin.

Over the door, in icy, crystalline white letters, five characters were written with upright precision: [Farm Iced Drink Shop].

Along the shop’s walls, lush clusters of green plants flourished, as though springing from the rock itself, broad jade leaves glistening with dew and mist, enwrapping the entire store.

At the same moment, a cool, water-laden breeze spread, stirring the stuffy, enclosed air of the cave. A fine white mist sprayed out, brushing the cracked faces of those present, drifting about, curling upwards, gradually condensing on the stone walls…

Teachers and students alike stared upwards, utterly transfixed.

Drip.

The first droplet fell from the stalactite ceiling of Waterdrop Village.

“…My god…” Shen Dongming, scarcely believing it, drew a deep, shuddering breath, his voice trembling:
“This… this water vapor…”

Behind the counter stood a cheery, red-capped male clerk: “Welcome to Farm Iced Drink Shop. I am Assistant No.1, at your service.”

“May I ask, what would you like to drink?”

“It… It can actually be bought and drunk?!”

This one sentence lit up every child in the place—the atmosphere exploded into uproar.

“We want water! Lots of water!”
“Quick, put Ms. Lin under the mist, it’s so cool and comfortable here!”
“Ms. Lin, Ms. Lin, do you see this?!”

Shen Dongming placed Lin Yanqing at the mouth of the gentle mist, letting her be enveloped in cool vapor. The children swarmed about her, fanning and caring for her.

Qiu Youqing’s eyes shone, practically glowing. He could wait no longer—he rushed forward, clinging to the counter and rising up on his tiptoes:
“You—no—hello, please give us iced water! Lots and lots of iced water!! Mmm…”

The white mist gently cradled the child, placing him back behind the counter.

“No need to rush the ice water,” Si Zhiyan tapped the counter, his tone warm and gentle. “Two cups of [Sea Salt Lemon Electrolyte Beverage], thirty-percent sugar, less ice, put it on my tab.”

As the automated clerk prepared the drinks, Si Zhiyan bent down to look at Qiu Youqing: “Your teacher’s heatstroke is severe. She can’t take in large quantities of ice water all at once—she could suffer from electrolyte imbalance, and the sudden cold could make her stomach and blood vessels contract sharply, making things worse. She needs to gradually take small sips of a mildly cool drink, and to replenish salt and electrolytes to avoid fluid imbalance.”

Si Zhiyan smiled:
“I anticipated circumstances like this and prepared these drinks just for you.”

In the time it took to say this, the sea salt lemonade was ready. Si Zhiyan took the cups from the clerk, gave them a light shake, and with a soft pop inserted a straw, pushed through the crowd, and set one at Lin Yanqing’s lips.

Shen Dongming propped his wife up so she could rest against his knees. For all that Lin Yanqing’s heatstroke and dehydration were severe, as a strengthened player she retained slivers of consciousness. Unable to open her eyes, her parched lips moved, brushing against the cool, moist straw—instantly, she grew urgent, trying her best to drink—

Cool, icy liquid flooded her long-parched mouth.

To the naked eye, her complexion improved dramatically in an instant.

“She moved! Ms. Lin moved!”
“She drank it!”
“She’s better, she’s better, Ms. Lin…”

The children erupted, weeping as they burst into happy sobs. Shen Dongming finally relaxed, the tension slumping from his shoulders; there was a tender gleam of moisture in his eyes as he gently touched his wife’s face…

Qiu Youqing leaned nearby, watching it all unfold.

Thud.

Si Zhiyan set the other cup of [Sea Salt Lemon Electrolyte Beverage] down before him.

Like a startled little animal, Qiu Youqing jolted half a foot into the air.

“This one’s for you,” Si Zhiyan said with a smile. “You’ve run so far; you must be very thirsty, too?”

“…”
Qiu Youqing opened his mouth but found nothing to say in reply.

Quietly, he knelt down again, bringing his lips to the straw.

———

Cool liquid poured into his parched throat.

The first thing to strike him was the aroma of lemon, followed by the fresh scent of quality sea salt. After ages of drought, the crisp water delighted his senses. The lemon flavor was subtle, quenching his thirst, and the slight sweetness amplified by the faint saltiness made saliva pool in his mouth.

It was delicious!
How could such a refreshing thing exist in this world?

Gulp, gulp.

Every cracked line in his lips stung painfully, tinged with the taste of blood, but only made him more lucid, his scalp tingling. Qiu Youqing was trembling all over, drinking hungrily.

Until a wisp of vapor gently pressed down on his shoulders.

That godlike gentleman lowered his head, smiling lightly at him: “Did you forget? Small sips, a bit at a time, slowly.”

“…”

Qiu Youqing knelt on the ground, gripping the counter with both hands, half his face hidden below, tilting up to gaze at Si Zhiyan. His clear pupils sparkled, filled with the faint, elusive figure of the man.

He couldn’t make out his face, couldn’t bridge the distance, but his voice, so soft and peaceful, held no hint of threat—only such gentleness…

To think, at first, he’d wanted to steal from a team like this…

Qiu Youqing’s face flushed, burning red.

His fingertips trembled as he bit down on the straw, nodding vigorously.