However, the next announcement quickly dampened much of the initial excitement about the new job openings.
"Priority given to applicants with relevant work experience."
That one sentence was enough to weed out more than half the applicants in the chat group. Still, it didn't fully snuff out people's enthusiasm. Whether they had experience or not, everyone figured it was worth giving it a shot—because what if it actually worked?
Given the tight timeline, the job posting went out in the afternoon and, before sunset, the final hiring list was already confirmed. Especially the construction workers, both skilled and general laborers, who got started that very night. After all, there were only four full days left before May 1.
The location chosen for the new canteen and supermarket was the open lot in front of the community. Remember the earthquake evacuation zone? The same place where the elderly usually gathered to sit in the shade. It was ideal not just because it was spacious, but also because it made things easier for the staff to manage.
The schedule was tight and the task demanding. Using bricks and mortar was out of the question—there just wasn't enough time. So after some discussion, they settled on prefab steel panel houses instead. If you've ever been to a construction site, those temporary worker dorms made of blue steel panels? That's exactly what they built. They might look flimsy, but those structures are surprisingly sturdy, able to withstand wind and rain. Plus, they were quick and easy to assemble. Just piece the panels together, and a room takes shape in no time.
Because the whole site was still wrapped in poisonous fog, visibility was limited to barely a meter. While that didn't completely prevent work from progressing, it did make safety a serious concern. So even with the simplicity of the assembly, no one dared to slack off. Everyone worked as fast as they could, while staying alert.
After two straight days and nights of construction, the supermarket and canteen were finally complete.
But that wasn't the end. Protective curtain barriers had to be installed at every entrance, and all the seams in the steel walls had to be sealed from both inside and out. Only after all of that was finished could the staff use fog extractors to clear out the poisonous mist. Once the fog was completely removed from both buildings, the entire setup was finally considered done.
That final cleanup took another full day. By the time all the supplies and equipment were fully stocked and ready to go, it was 5 p.m. on April 30. At the same time, the pages on the Disaster Relief app were finally updated and live.
Almost everyone logged into the app at the exact same moment, causing it to lag terribly. This was one of those moments when having a better phone really mattered. Lan Jin's phone struggled for a while before it finally managed to refresh the canteen page. The first thing she saw was the meal menu for the next day—breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
There were no food photos, just plain text, but the menu stood out clearly in its designated section. Each item had its contribution point cost listed right next to it.
Breakfast: 2 steamed buns and a bowl of thin rice porridge — 1.5 contribution points
Lunch: Meal box with one meat dish, two vegetables, and rice — 8 contribution points
Dinner: Same as lunch — 8 contribution points
Placing an order was simple. It worked just like a regular delivery app. Select your meal, add it to your cart, and submit the order. The system would gather all the submissions, tally up the quantities, and then prepare the meals accordingly.
Even though lunch and dinner were both meal boxes, the dishes weren't identical. The vegetables were mostly fast-growing, high-yield crops like potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and Chinese cabbage. As for meat, they had chicken, duck, and pork. The poisonous fog harmed people, but it didn't affect animals at all. So while food was scarce, at least meat wasn't completely off the table—though it was still better to ration things like lunch meat and sausages for now.
All three meals could be ordered separately. If you only wanted breakfast, that was fine. Meals were delivered to each building as a group, so there was no issue with smaller orders.
There were no quantity limits either. First, cooked food spoiled quickly, so no one was likely to hoard it. Second, this made it easier for one person to place a bulk order for their whole household, cutting down on queues during pickup.
There was one important rule: the staff only delivered meals once per day, and only to the ground floor of each building. Even if you ordered breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they'd all arrive at the same time.
If your food got cold? That was your problem. Reheat it yourself. After all, there was still electricity.
The staff had other responsibilities too. They weren't full-time delivery workers and couldn't spend all day handing out meals.
Once residents understood this, they still grumbled a bit, but no one went too far with their complaints.
The canteen page was simple, easy to navigate. Once she had looked through it, Lan Jin switched over to the supermarket section, which also took a while to load.
The supermarket had nearly every category of supplies, though not like before when there were dozens of brands to choose from. And every item had a strict purchase limit—each resident ID could only buy two units of any product.
Just like with regular online shopping, you added your items to the cart, submitted the order, and it would show you the total contribution points required. This made it easy to plan your purchases and for the staff to handle the deductions.
As for delivery, the system worked the same as with the canteen—supermarket orders would be delivered together with the day's meals. That meant the app was basically a one-shot opportunity each day. Miss it, and you'd have to wait until tomorrow.
Still, they weren't too stingy about the time window. The app allowed shopping from 3 to 5 p.m. every day. Two hours might not seem like much, especially with the lag, but it was enough for most people to finish placing their orders.
Once Lan Jin had gone through all the supplies listed on the app, she returned to the canteen page and ordered all three meals for the next day. Even though her storage space had everything she needed, she had eaten at a canteen like this in her previous life and remembered the food actually being pretty good.
Granted, that had been the canteen from the community across the road. As for the one here—who knew? But since the chefs were supposed to have prior experience, it couldn't be too bad. And besides, it was nice to change things up once in a while.
Just as she submitted her order, a message came in from Huang Jinghe.
[Huang Jinghe]: Sister Lan, I just ordered tomorrow's three meals. Did you order yet?
[Lan Jin]: I did. I ordered all three too. Let's go pick them up together tomorrow.
[Huang Jinghe]: Sounds good. I was thinking the same. I'll message you tomorrow then.
[Lan Jin]: Alright.
After putting her phone down, Lan Jin entered her storage space again and resumed tending to her vegetables.
Speaking of that space—it really was incredible. The seeds she had planted with just a thought had fully matured overnight. But each seed could only grow one crop. Once harvested, the roots withered and broke down into fertilizer, readying the soil for the next planting.