Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 221

Yu Xi wasn’t the only one woken up—Bean Sprout was as well.
She had been so busy these past two days that she barely spent time in Starhouse during the day. Other than occasionally transferring some plant energy to Bean Sprout, she had hardly paid it any attention.
But it was even more well-behaved than she had expected. Perhaps it understood how rare and difficult it was for Yu Xi to let it stay, so whenever she was not in Starhouse, it mostly kept itself planted in the soil.
Its pet area was near the edge of the rooftop, allowing it to see the outside world even when it remained still in its pot.
Fan Qi told her that sometimes it would press itself tightly against the glass, as if watching the world outside. Other times, it would wiggle its stem and leaves in the soil, and only occasionally would it pull itself out, following the steps Yu Xi had taught it—first jumping into the water bucket to soak and clean itself, then hopping onto the thick towel to absorb excess moisture, before finally running around the rooftop like a carefree child.
Whenever Yu Feng was on the rooftop, he was usually lounging on a chair, reading, listening to music, or drinking tea. Bean Sprout would deliberately circle around his lounge chair a few times, waiting for him to notice it. When he finally waved for it to jump up, it would twist its stem and instead run straight toward Fan Qi, leaving Yu Feng with an outstretched hand, frozen in place.
From Fan Qi’s recounting, it was clear that both of Yu Xi’s parents had grown fond of this little mutated rose seedling. It felt less like she had gained a combat partner and more like they had adopted an adorable pet.
Yu Xi wasn’t sure if plants slept at night, but Bean Sprout seemed to. Whenever it was awake, even when rooted in the soil, it would wiggle from time to time, clearly full of energy.
But at night, it became completely still, standing in its soil like an ordinary, non-mutated plant.
Yu Xi had observed it a few times and understood that this was how it rested.
But now, amidst Shen Qiu’s repeated chanting of “Starhouse” like a mantra, Bean Sprout, which had been motionless, suddenly smacked itself against the glass with a loud thud.
Yu Xi got up, walked over to its pet area, bent down, and tapped its tiny flower bud. “It’s okay, you keep resting. I’m just heading out for a bit.”
Just as she was about to leave, a fine root tendril wrapped around her finger.
Yu Xi tapped it again. “Don’t worry. I’m strong.”
Outside Starhouse, near the dilapidated perimeter wall, Shen Qiu tightened her thin down jacket around herself, anxiously waiting.
She knew the masked woman had been busy rescuing people these past two days, and now it was quite late. During the day, while the rescue signal was being painted on the rooftop, people had been going in and out constantly. Without knowing whether the woman was willing to let others know about Starhouse, Shen Qiu hadn’t dared to make a wish request earlier.
What if she didn’t want anyone else to know about it?
After all, compared to controlling vines to form bridges, possessing a vehicle that could produce hot, delicious meals and disappear at will was even more unbelievable—it would drive people mad with desire.
The woman had helped her and so many others. Shen Qiu wasn’t expecting a reward, but at the very least, she didn’t want to bring her unnecessary trouble.
Yu Xi put on her mask, wrapped herself in a long knit cardigan, and pushed open the door to leave Starhouse.
To Shen Qiu, the previously silent and abandoned rooftop suddenly echoed with the creak of an old, rusty door opening. Even though she had prepared herself, the eerie atmosphere of the dark night still sent a shiver down her spine.
Then, from the darkness behind the door, a familiar figure emerged.
She was still wearing the same mask from earlier that day, but her outfit was distinctly cozy and home-like, clearly having just stepped out of a safe and warm place. This contrast made Shen Qiu feel even more mystified.
She didn’t find it strange, though. Once she had accepted that the masked woman was beyond ordinary, anything she did seemed reasonable.
Besides, in the age of the internet, apocalypse novels and interstellar stories were common knowledge. If someone like this woman existed, she must have come from some kind of legendary sanctuary space.
In a world like this, having someone with extraordinary abilities appear was nothing short of a blessing.
She didn’t feel jealous or envious—only grateful. Grateful that, in this life-and-death crisis, she was here.
“Fairy Godmother!” Shen Qiu took a few steps forward, calling out earnestly and sincerely.
Yu Xi nearly tripped.
This was what she got for letting her mouth slip that one time.
Suppressing the shivers running down her arms, she corrected, “Just call me ‘sister’ like you did earlier. Are you here to make a wish?”
Shen Qiu nodded.
She had indeed come to make a wish, but her request was rather large, and she wasn’t sure if the masked woman would agree.
“A batch of food, water, and some basic external medical supplies?” Shen Qiu’s request was quite substantial in quantity, but the items were simple—only the bare essentials for survival. It was obvious they weren’t for herself.
“You’re asking for others?” Yu Xi asked.
“Yes,” Shen Qiu admitted, a little nervous. She knew she was requesting a lot and wasn’t sure if the woman would be willing to grant it. “If one wish isn’t enough, can I trade three?”
Shen Qiu was fully aware of her own weakness—she was too softhearted.
With the plants growing out of control, many people had been ambushed. Some had been injured while escaping. If someone was caught by a plant’s roots, cutting them free immediately could save their life, but the tiny puncture wounds left behind were difficult to heal properly.
Moreover, everyone here had survived the mutation of plants and animals, the freezing temperatures, torrential rains, and now the second explosive growth of vegetation. Many had lost their parents, children, lovers… Even though they had managed to relocate into the building, hunger and injuries still followed them like shadows.
During the rescue and relocation efforts, people were united, all hoping for more fellow survivors. But once they settled down, personal concerns began to emerge. In a confined space like this, the more people there were, the easier it was for conflicts to arise.
At the core of it, the issue was the lack of food—medicine was even scarcer.
Two children had been attacked by plants in their sleep. Their parents had fought to protect them, resulting in one of them dying and the other being severely wounded. The children themselves were so traumatized by the gruesome death of their family member that they started running high fevers after arriving at the building.
One of the mothers had sustained injuries but neglected her festering wounds just to save water for her child—to cool their fever and to drink.
It was only while helping settle these people that Shen Qiu realized she wasn’t the most unfortunate person in the apocalypse. She admitted to herself—she was softhearted, overly kind, even naïve. People could call her whatever they wanted. If she had no one to turn to, she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
But now, she wanted to try.
“If it’s in exchange for three wishes, I think that’s doable.”
Yu Xi watched the light flicker in her eyes before continuing, “But you need to think this through. These three wishes were originally meant for you. You could have wished for anything—for delicious hot meals like the other day, for a life-saving weapon in a critical moment, or even for a stronger body.
“Moreover, once the exchange is made, I will provide food, water, and medicine to the survivors, but I won’t do it in the way you expect. Meaning, even if they receive the supplies, they won’t know that you sacrificed your wishes for them. Do you understand?”
“It’s fine, however you decide to do it,” Shen Qiu replied firmly. “I didn’t come up here on impulse. I’ve thought about it for a long time. I understand—those three wishes could have… no, they definitely would have allowed me and my small team to live well.
“But because of your help earlier, we aren’t lacking anything right now. We have enough food and water to last half a month at least. The others… they need these wishes more than I do.
“Sister, thank you for being willing to exchange the wishes. I’ve already made my decision—I won’t regret it!”
That day, the warmly lit food truck, the steaming curry chicken meal, and the starry sky lollipop the masked woman handed her—each of these things felt like warmth falling from the heavens. In those moments, she had seen hope for survival.
And now, she wanted those lights of warmth to shine on the other survivors, so they too could see the hope of living.
Yu Xi silently observed the girl standing before her. She was ordinary. In this apocalypse, without her teammates, she likely would have been swallowed by the mutated plants and animals long ago.
She was still young and had a soft nature—some might see her as weak, easy to bully, or overly compassionate…
But for those truly in need of help, this kind of kindness and softness was their hope of survival.
“Go back,” Yu Xi said. “By tomorrow morning, your wish will be fulfilled.” She then pulled out a bottle of children’s fever medicine and some antibiotics from her pocket (Starhouse storage). “The child’s fever can’t wait. Take these first. You don’t need to mention me. The antibiotics are for the child’s mother.”
“Thank you, Sister!” Shen Qiu clutched the medicine tightly and watched as Yu Xi disappeared behind the door.
The next morning, just as dawn broke, someone awoke from an uneasy sleep, faintly hearing the sound of music.
It was a simple, repetitive melody, much like the tunes played by street-cleaning or garbage collection trucks in the peaceful days before the apocalypse.
Someone with a sharp nose, whose door was broken and left ajar, caught a whiff of something in the air.
It was—meat.
Within minutes, people followed the music and the scent, tracing it up to the twentieth floor.
This floor had originally been an office space, with a large open hall outside the abandoned elevator shafts. This made the sudden appearance of a food truck seem less cramped.
The left window of the truck’s cabin was open, and inside, on a small table, sat a large electric steamer, releasing fragrant clouds of steam. Next to the window was a simple cardboard sign with five bold words: “Limited-Time Starhouse.”
Below the title, three lines of smaller text were written, with the middle line highlighted in red for emphasis.
Barter system—exchange what you don’t need for what you do. The value of trades is determined by the store owner.
Civilized trading is encouraged. Stealing from others after a trade is forbidden. Anyone who does will be blacklisted from the store.
Each person is limited to one trade per day. Business hours are irregular.
Yu Xi had an abundance of instant noodles, compressed biscuits, and other convenience foods in her Starhouse storage—water was even less of an issue. Inside Starhouse’s simulated apartment, just one Starcoin could be exchanged for ten tons of purified water.
Now that she had the rooftop planting area, which was not only fully automated but also had an accelerated growth function, Fan Qi had already harvested a batch of fast-growing vegetables. Some had been stored in the fridge, while the rest were moved into Starhouse’s storage.
Even if she had to supply vegetables for all two hundred people in the building, it would be more than enough. But, as she had always believed, giving things away for free only made people take them for granted. She preferred to go through the motions of a trade.
After all, there were only two hundred people here. She could just open shop for a few hours whenever she felt like it—it was completely manageable.
Unlike the first time she operated in the South Sea Islands, where she encountered skepticism, suspicion, and trouble, this time, the survivors accepted everything without question and even began lining up voluntarily.
Everyone could see clearly—the shopkeeper standing inside the food truck, wearing a cloak and a mask, was the same mysterious black-clad woman who had summoned the vines and helped them relocate to safety.
Having witnessed her extraordinary abilities, no one was foolish enough to go against her.
Some still had doubts, believing she was merely a human who had mutated after the apocalypse, possessing wood-based abilities. That didn’t necessarily mean she could provide everything they needed in exchange.
But the aroma of the food steaming in the pot was real. As for the other supplies they needed, they could simply try trading and see—after all, they had nothing to lose.
Some survivors who had rushed to join the queue were quickly briefed by others. The system was simple: trade what you don’t need for what you do. Everyone was short on food, water, and medicine, but beyond that, this building had over twenty floors filled with miscellaneous items.
File folders, drying racks, staplers, pens, office chairs, hairdryers… all sorts of unused items were scattered throughout the building. Other than being a bit dusty, there was nothing wrong with them.
As the first few people walked away from the truck, holding steaming hot meat buns wrapped in napkins, the rest of the line grew excited. Hot food like this—filling, with real meat—was available for such an easy trade?!
Of course, not everyone blindly rushed forward in excitement. Some discussed with their families and friends, realizing they needed to make the most of this opportunity. They couldn’t all trade for the same thing.
Some were still recovering from injuries and needed antibiotics. The rain was no longer falling every day, and clean water was scarce, so that was another priority. They decided to each trade for different necessities and pool their resources together.
One particularly meticulous person found a blank notebook. Before trading, they carefully wiped the dust off it using their clothes. Then, they found a pen and drew small sketches in the lower right corner of each page. Holding the notebook, they shyly asked if they could trade it for food.
Yu Xi had already noticed the girl sketching as she waited in line. When she took the notebook and flipped through it, she saw a sequence of drawings showing a girl’s expressions—shifting from sadness to happiness—ending with the words “Thank you.”
Yu Xi looked at the fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl in front of her and gently set the notebook aside before asking, “Do you eat rice?”
The girl was stunned for a moment before nodding. “Yes.”
Yu Xi reached beneath the small table (into Starhouse storage) and retrieved a square kraft paper food box. The transparent lid revealed neatly arranged white rice, braised pork, stir-fried shrimp and eggs, and broccoli.
She packed it into a black plastic bag, added disposable utensils, and included a freshly harvested fruit cucumber before handing it over.
“Eat without worry. If anyone tries to steal it from you, come find me—I handle after-sales issues,” she said calmly, her gaze sweeping over the surrounding survivors who were eyeing the meal with envy. Even those who had been tempted to snatch it quickly squashed the thought.
After all, they were all trapped in the same building. Even if someone managed to steal the food, where could they possibly escape to? Besides, if a young girl could earn better food through her own efforts, were they—grown adults—not capable of doing the same?
After this, some survivors paused their trading, choosing to observe before making their move. Others got creative, each trying to offer something more valuable.
But the mysterious shopkeeper and Starhouse owner had no fixed pattern in her trades.
A thinly dressed child, standing beside his elderly grandmother, presented an origami star and received a box of milk, a chicken lettuce burger, a fruit cucumber, and a lollipop in return.
Immediately, someone else tried to copy the trade. A parent stripped their child of a warm jacket, folded a long string of colorful paper stars, and even taught their child to say something endearing. However, their efforts only earned them a single meat bun.
People murmured in confusion, whispering among themselves.
Yu Xi listened quietly, a faint smirk appearing at the corners of her lips.
With her current hearing ability, nothing that happened within the survivors’ living quarters could escape her ears.
As for those who had previously traveled with her, like Zhuo Yun’s team, they didn’t lack food and only asked for water. However, they ended up receiving milk, coffee, and other beverages along with it. Shen Qiu, to her surprise, even found herself given a black sugar bubble tea.
Yan Ya’s small team—whether those who had stayed or those who had left—received average trades, neither particularly good nor bad.
Only Yan Ya himself received nothing more than a plain pack of instant noodles—with no seasoning, just dry noodles.
Frustration boiled inside him. He wanted to protest, to question why. But in the face of her absolute strength, he lacked the courage. He didn’t leave the twentieth floor. Instead, he slumped into a corner, gnawing on his dry noodles, waiting for Mu Keli to show up.
He had gone days without eating properly. His hands and feet were weak—he didn’t even have the energy to go looking for her. So, he decided to wait for her to come to him.
But that day, even as the trade session ended and the food truck vanished into thin air, Mu Keli never appeared.
That day, thanks to Starhouse’s appearance, the survivors in the building celebrated as if it were a holiday.
But the joy lasted only until the afternoon, when a nearby building, overgrown with vines reaching its rooftop, was completely crushed by the vegetation.
A ten-story building let out an unbearable groaning creak, like nails scraping against steel. When the first slab of concrete fell, it was followed by another, until the entire structure crumbled like a brittle cookie, buried in a sea of green. A thick cloud of dust and rubble rose into the air.
In the next two hours, the surrounding taller buildings collapsed one after another. The smaller buildings—those below five stories—had long since been swallowed by the dense branches and leaves, their rooftops barely visible.
Many survivors climbed to higher floors and carefully peeked out the windows.
Everywhere they looked, there was only an endless green ocean.
This ocean was alive—giant vines twisted and surged within it. Occasionally, they struck the remains of buildings, shattering them completely.
Aside from the tower they were in, the rest of the world seemed to have ceased to exist.
“We’re… really like an island in the middle of the sea,” someone finally said aloud the thought everyone had been afraid to voice.
“Do you think… someone will really come to rescue us?”