Chapter 74

“Is this certified chicken?”

“Straight from headquarters. Totally legit!”

…

April 30th, 5 p.m., Longbei Lele Burger. Xu Jiaojiao wearily finished serving her last customer.

Xu Jiaojiao was twenty-seven this year. Two years ago, she poured all her savings into franchising a Lele Burger. Lele Burger was a low-end fast food chain. Thanks to coordination from headquarters, her store had barely survived the past year’s crisis. Just when she thought life was finally returning to normal with the development of vegetable and forage seeds by the government, another blow struck—the outbreak of an infection. A man-made disaster, through and through.

Her Lele Burger was located in Lishu City, Longbei. Since the 3rd of the month, three confirmed cases had already been reported. Lishu’s medical infrastructure was weak, and the immediate consequence was devastating: the entire food and beverage industry in the city took a massive hit.

Now, the whole city’s food businesses were undergoing quality inspections. Even with the backing of a chain brand, Lele Burger had only managed to make a single sale all day—from 9 a.m. till now.

Xu Jiaojiao stared blankly at the entrance. At 5:20, a middle-aged woman walked in. “No customers yet?”

“None.”

The woman was her mother, Sun Fengxia. She had worked at the city’s health bureau before retiring, and now spent her days doing square dancing with other local residents.

They chatted for a bit before Xu Jiaojiao asked, “Going dancing later?”

“Not today.” Sun Fengxia rummaged through a cabinet, pulled out her senior bus pass, and got ready to leave.

Xu Jiaojiao blinked. “Where are you going?”

“Got something to take care of…” Her voice trailed off as she walked away, leaving only her small, slightly hunched figure behind.

…

Two hours later, Sun Fengxia and seven other square-dancing ladies arrived at the abandoned Lishu Feed Factory. It was 7 p.m., and a faint light glowed from within the derelict building.

“This is the place?” Sun Fengxia asked nervously.

“Definitely!” the slightly chubby auntie replied with conviction.

On April 18th, Sichuan Province had busted a case involving illegal wildlife sales. Since then, citizens across the country had been voluntarily assisting investigations. Lishu had seen three cases of foodborne infection. Most people thought it was just a minor issue. But during dance practice yesterday, the chubby auntie had whispered mysteriously—she’d discovered a wild meat hideout…

The hideout was located in the abandoned feed factory on the outskirts of Lishu. As soon as she said it, the whole dance team perked up.

There were twenty-three members in the team. To avoid alerting the suspects, Sun Fengxia and a few others came to scout, while the rest pretended to be out hiking nearby. Once they confirmed the factory’s nature, they would report it to the authorities.

“No need to be nervous. We came prepared,” the chubby auntie said, pulling out a small knife, a dagger, and chili powder from her pocket. For safety, each of them had brought some kind of self-defense tool.

Just then, the factory door creaked open. A yellow-haired man came out to dump some trash.

He lingered at the door for a moment, then slipped back inside, looking around furtively. Sun Fengxia, pretending to be a local villager, quietly picked up the trash he’d discarded. Inside the bag were instant noodle cups and used tissues. Fighting the urge to gag, they dug to the bottom—and found a dull boning knife.

There were bloodstains and unidentified clots on the blade. The dance team examined it carefully, then exchanged glances: This was it!

Half an hour later, police cars surrounded the feed factory. Thanks to the tip from the dance team, the operation went smoothly.

“Disgusting.”

“There’s still blood on the floor…”

…

Outside the factory, the dance team members clicked their tongues in disgust at the scene inside. They’d seen reports of illegal operations online, but hadn’t expected it to be this revolting in real life.

Police photographed and documented the evidence. A middle-aged officer approached them. “Next time you encounter something like this, report it immediately. Don’t take matters into your own hands.” They had just found three homemade hunting rifles. If things had escalated, the consequences could’ve been dire.

“We had plenty of people with us, it would’ve been fine,” one of the dancers replied quickly. Though they spoke confidently, a trace of fear lingered in their eyes.

Half an hour later, the dance team rode in a police van to the station to give their statements. On the way, they passed by Lele Burger. Inside, Xu Jiaojiao was busy cleaning. Sun Fengxia looked at the familiar sign and finally let out a breath of relief. She hadn’t just joined the raid for the excitement—she wanted Xu Jiaojiao’s business to return to normal. A young woman shouldn’t be frowning every day.

“My grandson loves meat. We couldn’t get any for a while, and now even if we can, we’re too scared to eat it.”

“My husband’s legs aren’t great. Even when we buy bones, we don’t know if they’re real beef.”

“Let’s just get this over with. Being able to buy meat in peace is so important.”

…

On the way to the station, others chatted in small groups. Everyone had their own reasons for joining the operation, but they all shared a common goal: to restore normal food safety as soon as possible.

Sun Fengxia spent two hours giving her statement. When she came out, she saw Xu Jiaojiao sitting on a bench, eyes red.

“You should’ve told me something this big was going on,” Xu Jiaojiao said, still shaken. She’d seen citizen reports online, but never imagined her mom would get involved in something so dangerous.

Sun Fengxia quickly replied, “I was doing my part for the country.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No, we didn’t even see the suspects…”

The two of them chatted on and on. In the next room, a Lishu police officer glanced at the system file. “Seventh case.”

This was the seventh citizen-reported case in Longbei, and the seventy-second successful report nationwide. With the growing cooperation between police and the public, the Longxia Ministry of Health predicted the national meat market would return to normal by May 10th.

Over the next two days, public enthusiasm for cooperation surged. The outlook for the domestic meat market turned out to be even better than expected—

On May 5th, the country launched a nationwide blitz of quality inspections. From supermarkets to rural markets, no corner was left unchecked. Food safety was a matter of public safety. False reporting and cover-ups were strictly forbidden. The goal of this inspection was simple: find the problems, root them out, and create a safe food environment for the people.

Under the firm control of the Longxia government, inspections rolled out across the nation.

On May 8th, results came in: among 55 provinces and cities, there were 12 problematic supermarkets and 23 problematic meat stalls. Most were located in suburban or loosely regulated areas. While 12 and 23 sounded like a lot, considering the national scale, the numbers were surprisingly low.

Longxia’s food market was relatively safe, but the government wasn’t satisfied.

On May 11th, Longxia launched a second wave of surprise inspections. This round was even faster and more aggressive. The results: three smuggling hideouts about to ship meat were discovered in the Long Triangle region. No Dead Meat sales were found nationwide.

Though the second round had a strong deterrent effect, the public finally saw a glimmer of hope for food safety.

On May 15th, the Longxia Ministry of Health released a statement—

1. Food safety is a fundamental issue. Longxia has launched an app for direct reporting. Citizens can report any food-related concerns.

2. The government will tighten restaurant licensing and encourage open kitchens. Proof of meat procurement must be posted regularly outside all shops.

3. Food safety enforcement will be stepped up, and violators will face severe punishment…

…

Longxia News was filled with food safety updates.

Before the public could even digest the news, Longxia launched a third inspection. No Dead Meat was found this time, but a large number of unlicensed restaurants were uncovered. During this period of food safety enforcement, these unlicensed operators were immediately blacklisted—banned from engaging in any food-related business for the next five years. With the government’s strong oversight, the nation’s food safety was essentially secured.

“This is amazing. It’s like going to war.”

“Even our meat vendors have to show proof of purchase. The market’s tightly regulated.”

“Even if someone wanted to sell bad meat, they couldn’t.”

…

While the government cracked down, many civic-minded residents began self-inspections. Now, supermarkets and farmers’ markets required full procurement documentation. Restaurants had to file quality reports. The penalties were severe. With the combined efforts of law enforcement, public awareness, and regulatory oversight, people went from panic to peace of mind.

“It’s a miracle!” As Longxia pushed forward, the world took notice.

In the midst of a global crisis, Longxia accounted for 30% of global grain exports. Food safety was a universal issue. Even before the crisis, illegal meat operations were rampant worldwide. Now, with the worsening global situation, some countries had quietly allowed the consumption of Dead Meat—not out of ignorance, but desperation.

Compared to those nations, Longxia not only kept its people fed, but fed them safely. In the midst of catastrophe, this was nothing short of a miracle.

“A miracle against the odds.”

It wasn’t just gossip media—some foreign state outlets began covering the story. During Longxia’s three inspection rounds, they approached it with skepticism, hoping to uncover flaws. But after two weeks of evidence gathering, they found no falsified data. Longxia had truly delivered.

Amid a global crisis, Longxia had reshuffled its domestic safety protocols, uprooting long-standing problems at their core.

It was a nationwide effort against the tide—a miracle born in adversity.

…

“It’s been a month… finally, some progress.”

While the world wrestled with a mix of emotions, at Fengshan Farm, Liu Wensheng wearily closed the last of his documents. Over the past month, Longxia had focused its efforts on cracking down on hidden operations and conducting thorough food safety inspections. Though it sounded simple on paper, the reality demanded massive manpower and resources to move from enforcement to comprehensive investigation.

Even though food safety wasn’t directly under his purview, the intensity of the campaign had kept him on edge all month.

Now that Longxia had made a breakthrough in food safety, the weight on his chest finally lifted.

It was 3 p.m. Liu Wensheng was sorting through paperwork while Qin Yun reviewed the past month’s farm projects.

“Still no update?” Liu Wensheng asked.

“Nope.”

Ever since the [Unyielding Resolve] task was completed last month, the system had entered an update state. In the past, updates had never taken more than a week. This time, it had been thirty-five days.

“Talk about an unyielding system,” Liu Wensheng joked with a chuckle.

After the [Unyielding Resolve] update, the lab had begun routine system analyses. Qin Yun had only given a brief summary of the process, but everyone could tell—this update had something to do with his mental state.

An update meant new, higher-level data references. Since then, Qin Yun had earned a new nickname around the farm: Qin Unyielding.

As someone who usually kept a low profile, Qin Yun hadn’t expected to become a minor celebrity on the farm just because of a title. Still, titles were just titles. There were always experiments to run and research to conduct. Everyone at the farm knew their boundaries—after the initial buzz about [Unyielding Resolve] and a round of encouragement for Qin Yun to stay determined, things quickly returned to normal.

After chatting for a bit, Liu Wensheng sighed, “Who knows when the update will finish.”

“It should be—”

Ding. “System update complete. Host name: Qin Yun. Update contents: Intermediate Farm…”

Qin Yun had just started to say “It should be soon” when the system chimed in.

The farm was divided into four levels: Newbie, Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. Ever since clearing the Newbie Phase, the farm had been stuck at the Basic level. But now… it had leveled up?