Jing Shu had been worrying about when blood mushrooms would hit the public eye. That night, the news broke everywhere: teams across the country had salvaged blood mushrooms. After expert analysis, besides their known effects, they were shown to be rich in trace elements. Eating them could extend one's lifespan.
Alongside the report, the big data auction was officially announced, with a preview for this rare blood mushroom. The starting price was 500 virtual coins per cap.
In no time, blood mushrooms became China's hottest topic. The bad press around missing divers faded without anyone noticing, and salvage workers were fired up. Everyone wanted to find a patch of blood mushrooms. A single cluster held seven or eight on average, which meant several thousand coins at least. Compared to four coins a day, a windfall of thousands was worth the risk.
The price surge was not all bad. It sped up currency circulation, gave ordinary people the dream of "hitting the five-million jackpot," and let the rich spend to stimulate the economy.
Dinner was rare and plentiful: garlic scapes fried with cured pork, smoked duck, a fragrant fried rice, and a pot of old hen stewed with mushrooms. Only, today's mushrooms did not look like ordinary ones.
Grandma Jing stared at the blood mushrooms on TV, mouth agape. "Why do I feel like the mushrooms you brought home look just like the ones on TV?"
Everyone looked from the screen to the bowl. They really did look alike.
"Oh, they are the ones on TV," Jing Shu said, sipping chicken soup. She took a bite of blood mushroom. The flavor was bright and rich. Blood mushrooms tasted nothing like those gaudy pretenders.
"What a sin. Such a waste. We should stew a big pot and drink a bowl every day. This stuff helps you live longer," Grandma Jing lamented, completely unaware of how precious the Spirit Spring she drank daily really was.
"One bite and we've gone through half a house…"
Not a scrap was left of the old hen stew. Even the bones were sucked clean before being tossed to Xiao Dou. Xiao Dou looked aggrieved. Why had no meat been saved for she today? Had she fallen from favor? Sob, sob.
That night, after patrolling the Rubik's Cube Space, Jing Shu planted a new batch of papaya, tended the flowers, fruits, and bees, practiced the cube for a while, and drifted into a doze.
She thought she would sleep well.
But fate liked to play with her at four in the morning, as if hinting at something. At four on the dot, the roar of an engine shook her awake. The throttle sounded familiar. Jing Shu knew that Mentor Chu Zhuohua, Wu You'ai's mentor, had arrived.
You can never guess what a biologist is thinking.
"Ah, I just had a dream, and then inspiration struck. I need a deeper look…"
Bleary-eyed and raccoon-shadowed, Chu Zhuohua explained his pre-dawn visit like that.
Wu You'ai gave her mentor a dead-fish stare. No one knew a teacher better than their student.
"…Shall we head to the garage now and see how to modify the RV?" Jing Shu said. When someone was that excited about modifying an RV, she could not kill the mood.
Chu Zhuohua did not move.
Hands on hips, Wu You'ai said, "Mentor, Jing Shu's horned frog will not be dissected or fused with any other creature. Jing Shu's hens will not be studied to see whether laying so many eggs causes loosening. And my grandpa's teeth are not growing back because he found a second spring. Give it up."
Chu Zhuohua pulled a tragic face. "What a pity. Such a magnificent project."
Jing Shu: "???" What were they even talking about?
They still made a round of the garage. The energy car was not in bad shape. With minor repairs, it would run.
Refitting the RV, though, was a major project. Even the wilted Chu Zhuohua perked up. He did not only love biological puzzles. Anything worth investigating or rebuilding could catch his interest.
Jing Shu spread out the floor plans she had rushed to finish and compared them to the RV. The first deck was divided into three zones: a front lounge, a middle kitchen and bathroom, and a rear master bedroom.
She started with the first-deck refit.
"Behind the passenger seat, we open a big pass-through. The built-in circular sofa is ruined and the passenger seat is shot, so we'll convert this section into a connecting corridor.
We'll remove the original passenger seat and replace it with a mobile, foldable single sofa-bed. When not in use, it folds aside to keep the corridor clear. When it is time to sleep, it folds into a single bed."
Chu Zhuohua considered. "For ergonomic comfort, a single bed at 80 centimeters wide and 180 centimeters long is best. But that will take up about a quarter of the rear arc of the circular sofa. The passenger-side arc is done for."
Jing Shu nodded. "That's fine. The front arc still has one meter sixty by two meters. I want to convert it into an enclosed double tatami. The center will be a lift-up storage chest. When no one's sleeping, it becomes a living room. Everyone can sit around it. That way the right-side overhead cabinet and storage stay intact, and the corridor remains open."
"That works. The RV already has a lift table. Use it as base material. Sourcing the rest will be tricky. Best to comb through the government's reclaimed furniture stocks or check furnished places that got flooded."
The passenger seat in an RV was always awkward. No sleeping at night, stiff during the day, and completely cut off from the house portion. The driver was lonely up front. To reach the living area, the driver had to stop, get out, go around, and enter from the door. Even a quick word was a hassle.
Now, turning the passenger seat into a foldable single bed that also serves as a corridor was perfect. It did not disrupt the layout.
"This will loosen the joint where cab meets coach," Chu Zhuohua added. "It is a pain, but I can reinforce with other materials. It will not affect power."
The front arc would become a small double-bed room with a TV, completely separate from the single bed and not interfering with one another.
Jing Shu had a small selfish idea. She planned to house her parents in the rear double room, while her grandparents would sleep up front. Some distance meant privacy. No one would hear anything awkward, and no one would feel embarrassed.
This change alone added one double bed and one single bed. The remaining sofa and table would stay as the dining area. It was a bit tight, but with a few stools, everyone could squeeze in.
The middle left of the coach would be the kitchen, with a full set of appliances: ceramic cooktop, range hood, sink, refrigerator, and dish cupboards with drawers. Even rough off-roading would not tear the interior apart.
But considering the number of appliances and the size of the family, cooking a meal would be a major undertaking. They could not just slap something together. Jing Shu needed further upgrades.