My Apocalypse System Arrives 10 Years Early

He had known how to play the bamboo flute since he was a child, though he was limited to simple tunes like "Little Star" and "Butterfly Lovers."

But now that he was an Extraordinary Being who practiced advanced Breathing Techniques daily, his control over his breath was as fluid as a Spirit Fish. Naturally, he wouldn’t be playing such childish songs anymore.

The most complex playing techniques held no secrets from him; he mastered them with ease.

As the saying goes: master one art, and you will understand all arts, for all things are interconnected and complete.

"The road of life, a dream-like long road, weathered by wind and frost, frost drying on the face. In this mortal world, how many paths do dreams take..."

A bamboo flute rendition of "A Chinese Ghost Story" left the dog and the Little Fox utterly mesmerized.

Afterward, Li Xiang tried his hand at other popular, well-known songs like "Tomb of the Foolish in Love," "Beautiful Companion with a Lonely Lamp," and "Eternal Love," the theme from *Chinese Paladin 3*. When the first notes of "Eternal Love" rang out from his flute, Li Xiang felt as if he were riding a sword through the sky.

As for traditional classics like "Gusu Walk," "Spring Comes to the Xiangjiang River," and "Galloping Horses and Busy Grain Transport," he hadn’t seen the sheet music and wasn’t familiar with the melodies, so he couldn’t play them just yet.

...

In the evening, after he finished playing his flute, Li Xiang went to flip the salted fish. This was to ensure they cured evenly and absorbed more flavor, so he had to flip them once every night, moving the ones on top to the bottom and vice versa.

The large fish were being cured in a big vat placed by the covered walkway in the courtyard. It was sealed with a large wooden lid, which was weighed down with a stone to ensure no rats could sneak in for a snack.

Not that rats usually dared to come to the Li Family home, but it was better to be safe than sorry, right?

These large grass carp were so big that flipping them was manual labor, a job that fell to Li Xiang. If he wasn’t home, his grandmother could only cure smaller fish, like those weighing five or six pounds.

The Sichuan method for cured fish is very particular, renowned for its unique aroma and texture. The secret lies in the spices and high-proof baijiu.

The large grass carp were cleaned thoroughly. Not just the innards, but even the black membrane inside had to be scrubbed away. This membrane and any remaining blood were the sources of the fishy smell and would ruin the flavor of the cured fish if not removed.

They were rinsed under running mountain spring water and hung up to drip dry. Any residual moisture was blotted away with absorbent paper. Afterward, the entire body of each fish was coated with high-proof baijiu.

Every part had to be brushed, both to disinfect and kill bacteria, extending the shelf life, and to remove the fishy smell while adding fragrance, making the cured fish more delicious.

While Li Xiang was busy with this, his grandmother was in the kitchen stir-frying the spices. There were over ten kinds—Sichuan peppercorns, dried chilies, star anise, cassia bark, bay leaves, and more. She toasted them with refined salt to fully release their fragrance.

The ratio of salt was about 20 grams per pound of fish. However, iodized and low-sodium salt were avoided, as fish cured with them had a poor texture and didn’t keep as long as fish cured with regular salt.

The toasted spices were then rubbed onto the fish. Just like with the baijiu, every part was coated, inside and out. The fish were then placed in a clean, dry, and oil-free vat. Any excess spices and salt could be sprinkled on top before the vat was sealed with a layer of plastic wrap.

The curing process took about three to five days, and the fish had to be flipped daily.

Li Xiang kept the vat in the courtyard for convenience. After curing, the fish would need to be hung up to air-dry, and he would hang them along the covered walkway.

The walkway was well-ventilated, shady, sheltered from the rain, and large enough to hang all of them.

Cured fish shouldn’t actually be dried directly under the Sun, as it ruins the texture.

The Li Family only air-dried their cured fish. They would thread a clean rope through the fish’s head and use a bamboo strut of an appropriate length to prop the body open. This allowed for better drying. Air-drying for ten days to half a month was usually enough. Afterward, the fish would be moved to the cellar, where they could be stored for a long time.

Compared to fresh fish, cured fish had a unique flavor of its own, and it was an absolute delicacy, especially in the spring.

As for the time before and during the New Year, almost nobody ate it. It was mostly for show, to symbolize the blessing of having a "surplus every year." Who would eat cured meat and fish during the New Year celebration when there were so many other delicious dishes?

...

The young woman from the service provider’s office in town called Li Xiang. She said they were running a pre-New Year promotion: an internet upgrade from 300 Mbps to 1000 Mbps for just an extra 300 yuan. It came out to an additional 25 yuan a month for gigabit speeds.

Li Xiang’s original 300 Mbps plan had cost 816 yuan for the year. Adding 300 yuan brought the total to 1116 yuan.

Of course, that would be prorated to account for the months he had already used.

The value was obviously excellent. He had been short on money before, which was why he had only signed up for one year. Now, he decided to just extend it to three years.

When the saleswoman heard this, she was ecstatic. ’Holy cow!’ She had thought he was just going for a simple upgrade, but he signed up for three years straight! Her sales numbers shot right up. She seized the opportunity to chat with Li Xiang a bit longer, telling him she had been following his social media account for a while and had liked and watched every video he posted.

She added that he was the biggest internet celebrity in the county, and it was her honor to get to know him and handle his broadband service.

The saleswoman was a smooth talker. Li Xiang replied that the honor was all his.

The person who came to perform the upgrade was the same old technician as last time. Though he always worked in the countryside installing internet and his clothes were a bit old-fashioned, his job title was quite grand: "Smart Home Engineer."

With the upgraded broadband, the internet speed was much faster. Li Xiang then rode his tricycle to the county town and bought a new TV for his grandmother—a 75-inch, 4K, full-screen smart TV that only cost a little over four thousand yuan. He had to admit, TVs were really cheap nowadays.

Her old one was ancient, just a small 23-inch TV, and it had been quite expensive back when they bought it.

The only problem was that modern TVs had too many apps and were too complicated to operate, making them very unfriendly for the elderly. Luckily, Li Xiang was usually home and could operate it for her.

After setting up a default interface, Li Xiang taught his grandmother a few simple button shortcuts—which one to press first, which one next—and that made things much better.

’This house really needs repairs. Or maybe I should just rebuild it after the New Year.’ Li Xiang thought, looking at the 75-inch TV. The more he looked, the more dissatisfied he felt. The main issue was that the house was too small and old; it just didn’t match the big television.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a bigger one—like a 100, 120, 150, or even 200-inch model—but the house itself was the limiting factor.

’Building a new house is a must. We’ll be living here for at least another ten years. Wouldn’t it be nice for Grandma to enjoy a big villa in her later years?’

Besides, his would be a genuine mountain-view villa.

But it was too late to start this year. There was paperwork to file, design plans to draw up, materials to buy, and a construction crew to hire. It would all have to wait until after the New Year.

Third Granny’s house had been finished for a while now. Since she lived alone, her three daughters and sons-in-law had built her a small, single-story house with one living room, one bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The total area was no more than 60 square meters, so it was quick to build.

If Li Xiang were to build, he’d want at least 500 square meters or more. He had to think about getting married and having kids in the future.

It would all depend on how large a homestead plot he could get approved. Naturally, Li Xiang hoped for as much land as possible.

His current backyard actually encroached on a lot of his neighbors’ land. But those neighbors had all moved away, buying homes and settling down elsewhere. They probably wouldn’t ever return to this poor, remote place.

Even if they did, he could just return the land and offer some compensation.

In any case, most of his backyard was just used for growing vegetables or was simply empty space.

As the New Year approached, getting a haircut became a big problem for the elderly in the village. There used to be a barber, but he had moved to the county seat and rarely came back. For the old folks of Li Family Village to get a trim, they had to go to town or to another village, which was extremely inconvenient.

Besides, being older, they weren’t too keen on going to modern barbershops.

The main reason was that prices at those shops weren’t transparent and were often exorbitant, starting at thirty or fifty yuan. On top of that, many of them weren’t willing to serve the elderly.

Rural seniors just wanted a simple haircut; they didn’t dye or perm their hair, use high-end products, or buy memberships. They took up time but generated little profit, so the shops naturally didn’t treat them very well. Over time, the elderly just stopped wanting to go.

So, Li Xiang decided to solve this problem for them. While he was in the county town shopping for New Year’s goods, he also bought a set of hair-cutting tools.

He didn’t know how to do complicated styles, but he was perfectly capable of giving a simple short haircut. During the Apocalypse, back in the Underground City, barbershops were few and expensive. Everyone was struggling to survive, so they all just cut each other’s hair.

On his way back, Li Xiang greeted everyone he met, announcing that he had bought hair-cutting tools and would be giving free haircuts to the village elders at his doorstep that afternoon. No charge!

Of course, he also joked that they couldn’t blame him if the haircuts turned out bad.

Everyone laughed. They were just happy to get a haircut at all—how could they possibly blame him? They wouldn’t have time to thank him enough.