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    Chapter 78

    Over the next two days, shipments of Longxia grain arrived in batches at the Jier factory. After going through a series of modern processes—screening, cleaning, milling—the grain was transformed into various food products: bread, compressed biscuits, frozen pizzas… Once the food was ready, it moved on to the packaging stage.

    “Is this the latest packaging design?”

    “Looks like it…”

    Inside the packaging workshop, two workers stared blankly at the Jier packaging. It was the newest design, dominated by gold and red hues. Aside from the necessary product information, the center of the packaging featured a complex Longxia symbol, flanked by two mice.

    They picked up other packages to compare. The illustrations showed a golden rat, a golden ox, a golden tiger… Though they didn’t fully understand the Longxia elements, they recognized the twelve zodiac animals. One of them used their phone’s image recognition feature, which identified the central symbol as Longxia’s character for “fortune” (福).

    This was packaging steeped in Longxia culture.

    On June 10th, Longxia food officially hit the shelves.

    “There’s so much…” At 9 a.m., Hamina stood dazed outside the supermarket.

    People in Kyrgyzstan didn’t have a habit of stockpiling, but since January, any visible supplies had triggered frenzied buying. The reason was simple: after the Harma Storm, Kyrgyzstan was expected to become one of the world’s hardest-hit regions.

    As the global crisis worsened, Jier media began publishing articles like “Essential Supplies for Kyrgyzstan,” “How to Grow Food on Your Balcony,” and “How to Make Bean Sprout Soup.” These guides were incredibly detailed, covering everything from stockpiling to survival strategies.

    The citizens of Jier studied them diligently, but something felt off. Cultivating enoki mushrooms, growing white fungus, fermenting radishes in alcohol… many of these methods didn’t align with Kyrgyz traditions. A keyword search revealed the source: all these guides came from foreign websites.

    Foreign site addresses: Longxia Agricultural Forum, Longxia Guohu Net, Longxia Tech Web…

    Clearly, people were milking Longxia for all it was worth.

    Still, as the only country thriving amidst adversity, Longxia had become a wellspring of knowledge. Kyrgyzstan eagerly absorbed everything it could. And it wasn’t just Kyrgyzstan—other nations were also learning from Longxia. Balcony gardening, rooftop planting, rationing apps… these methods had proven to be highly effective in times of catastrophe.

    Hamina, a former bank employee, had been studying Longxia’s self-sustaining techniques ever since she was laid off. She followed Longxia guides to store supplies, cultivate enoki mushrooms, and watch bean sprouts grow… Every step was a new and fascinating experience. As her notes grew thicker, she began to understand the joy of stockpiling, Longxia-style.

    On June 5th, Longxia grain arrived in Kyrgyzstan. The moment she saw the news, one thought echoed in her mind: There’s food now!

    Today, Fengshan Grains launched nationwide. Hamina woke up at six, did a quick wash-up, and headed straight to the supermarket to queue. She had hoped to be the first customer through the doors—but now, the entrance was packed with people holding shopping bags. She’d been coming to this supermarket for ten years, and this was the first time she’d seen such a massive line.

    As she stood there in a daze, a voice called out from the crowd, “Hamina!”

    “Lucy.” Hamina waved. It was her high school classmate.

    Lucy, dressed in a floral dress and carrying two shopping bags, squeezed her way over.

    “You’re here for the grain too?”

    “Yeah.”

    Hamina looked around. With a food crisis looming in Kyrgyzstan, everyone just wanted to stock up—more and more and more.

    The two chatted for a while, and then the supermarket doors creaked open. The crowd tensed.

    At 9:15 sharp, the crowd surged into the store.

    “What’s that design?”

    “Probably some kind of Longxia ritual totem…”

    Ten minutes later, the two stood dumbfounded in the southern section of the supermarket. This was the food section. It used to be all gray and cold-toned, but now… the shelves were draped with tiny Longxia flags, and rows upon rows of red packaging lined the racks.

    Jier Grain Company, Jiji Run Grains, Anque Grains…

    The food came from various grain companies, but their packaging styles were strikingly uniform.

    Hamina stood frozen for a moment. Lucy was already stuffing items into her cart. “They’ll be gone in no time.”

    Looking around, Hamina saw everyone else doing the same—cramming items into their carts. She didn’t think twice and started grabbing long-shelf-life items like round noodles and frozen flatbreads.

    Half an hour later, the two of them pushed their heavily loaded carts to the checkout.

    “Sorry, you’re over the limit.”

    With food in short supply, Kyrgyzstan had followed Longxia’s lead and implemented a rationing policy.

    Due to different national circumstances, Kyrgyzstan had set a monthly food weight limit of 100 Kyrgyz Pounds per customer. Hamina’s ID showed she had already used 62 pounds last week. Now, with 75 pounds in her cart, she was well over the limit.

    “Can I borrow from next month’s quota?” Hamina asked reluctantly.

    “That’s after the discount.” The security guard shrugged. Fengshan Grains were a new product line, and under Longxia’s supplementary contract, 30 Kyrgyz Pounds were exempt from the rationing limit. That’s why the supermarket was so packed today—and this frenzy was expected to last for a while.

    Hamina reluctantly removed some of the heavier boxed items.

    At 11:30, she and Lucy finally exited the supermarket.

    “All Longxia packaging.”

    “Very distinctive design…”

    Many customers were now pushing carts out of the store, all loaded with easily recognizable red packages. Some even had Longxia flags hanging from their ears. Kyrgyzstan and Longxia weren’t particularly close, but this cooperation had clearly brought them closer together.

    Hamina opened her car and loaded the goods inside.

    She pulled out a pack of round noodles—high-fiber noodles made from Longxia flour. She had never paid much attention to flour quality before, but the noodles inside the bag looked glossy and smooth. Suddenly, she felt like going home to cook them.

    “Dear viewers, I’m David, your talk show host, and today I’m bringing you an outstanding flour product…”

    “Fengshan Sweet Potato is soft, tender, and flavorful. It’s the best sweet potato I’ve ever had. I hope you’ll support it.”

    “I’m Branna—fans in the audience, tell me, will you support Longxia grain?”

    Top talk shows, celebrity interviews, live concerts…

    As Longxia packaging was being printed in Kyrgyzstan, other countries were also fulfilling their promotional contracts with Longxia. Most did so through celebrity endorsements. While celebrity appearances usually came with a fee, this was a state-level initiative.

    For governments, the promotional requirements came with no direct costs.

    For celebrities, during a time of global disaster when earnings were plummeting, this kind of promotion was a stamp of official approval.

    Many stars worked their connections behind the scenes—not only did they not charge fees, they actively sought out opportunities to participate. It was a win-win for both governments and celebrities.

    “We’ve received applications from thirty-seven celebrities. Should we follow Kyrgyzstan’s lead and do some real promotions?” asked an administrative secretary in Guqia’s publicity department, as global advertising campaigns rolled out.

    Guqia had ordered 3 million units of grain from Longxia. The grain had passed domestic quality checks, and per the contract, it needed to hit the shelves soon.

    The publicity minister glanced at the documents. “No need.”

    Guqia’s relationship with Longxia wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t exactly a honeymoon either. One promotional campaign wouldn’t change the nature of their relationship. Rather than invest in flashy ads, it was better to focus on Guqia’s infrastructure projects.

    After a moment’s thought, the minister added, “Reply to the celebrities’ emails. Tell them the publicity department agrees to cooperate.”

    They were all top-tier celebrities in Guqia. While the government wouldn’t go out of its way to promote Longxia, a no-cost publicity effort… that was the perfect face-saving collaboration.


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