Over the following days, almost every other night saw the open plains register a new record for their lowest outdoor temperature, each time dropping another half degree—or even a full degree—lower than before.
The cold seemed endless, as though this relentless descent would never reach a bottom.
Aside from this anxiety-inducing change, everything else Mi Gao was busy with in the wasteland world unfolded without incident, calm to the point of monotony.
On cultivation:
With Zhu Dacong, the man in charge, Mi Gao directed a workforce of over a hundred laborers, planting garlic, tomatoes, houttuynia, corn, sprouted potato chunks, and various other crops into the greenhouses.
Among them, staple crops like corn and potatoes were planted on a larger scale—fifty mu each.
As for other vegetables, most occupied about ten mu apiece. The sole exception was garlic, which covered twenty mu, making it the third most extensively planted crop.
This large-scale garlic cultivation had nothing to do with Mi Gao worrying that the natives might feel that "a meal without garlic is only half as delicious."
Rather, he had taken into account the ever-growing number of subordinates under his command. Feeding them alone was already a challenge.
If he continued, as before, to purchase large quantities of medicine from the modern world to treat the chronic illnesses accumulated from their years of hardship, then the "Meridian Border Subcity Trading Company" would likely go bankrupt in no time at all.
Thus, garlic—said to possess a variety of medicinal properties—became Mi Gao's crude yet practical solution. Once the garlic matured, every person would be required to consume one large clove per day, eaten raw.
For the sake of public health, this would be enforced as a mandatory policy.
By the same logic, ten mu of houttuynia—affectionately known as zhe'ergen by the people of Sichuan and Guizhou—were also planted in the greenhouses to serve a similar purpose.
The fondness of those regions for the plant was not without reason. Rich in protein, fats, and carbohydrates, its benefits were apparent to anyone who consumed it.
It was only because Mi Gao suspected that the natives of the wasteland might not endure the intense flavor of cold-mixed houttuynia that he planted less of it.
If they proved able to tolerate it, the cultivation area would likewise be expanded.
On recruitment:
Every single day, large numbers of scavengers arrived to join—no fewer than a hundred on quieter days, and as many as five hundred on the busiest.
Each night, when Mi Gao glanced at the statistics, he would find that his headcount had inexplicably swollen by a substantial margin.
Regrettably, women were exceedingly rare. Among a hundred men, there might be only a few wives or daughters who came along.
With the surge in population, food consumption skyrocketed as well—from the initial four to five hundred kilograms per day for fewer than five hundred people, to more than two tons of rice and eight-treasure porridge each day just to barely satisfy over three thousand mouths.
Fortunately, Mi Gao had secured a brand-new source of cheap staple food in the modern world.
In Yang City, early-season rice had just been harvested. Rice-processing mills across the countryside were operating at full capacity, with production and sales booming.
During the processing of grain into commercial rice, a small amount of broken rice was inevitably produced.
Though inferior in texture and appearance compared to premium rice, its nutritional value was identical.
One of Zhang Kai's subordinates, a young man nicknamed "Frog," had nearly gone mad when confronted with the purchase price Mi Gao demanded.
In the end, he fixed his sights on this very product, which cost only around eighty cents per jin at the source.
After cautiously seeking Mi Gao's approval, he was promptly praised by the unscrupulous boss—and immediately tasked with procuring three hundred tons on an ongoing basis, while maintaining supply channels for further expansion at any time.
In short, having brought fifty tons of broken rice on this trip alone, Mi Gao felt well-stocked and secure.
As the saying went: with grain in hand, the heart knows no panic.
With ample reserves, Meridian Border Subcity gradually developed a clear and efficient process after several days of open recruitment.
Upon joining, only the few women received preferential treatment.
The vast majority of men first had to shave their heads completely on the open plains.
Then they stripped naked and, under supervision, thoroughly scrubbed their bodies, clothes, and bedding with detergent.
While waiting for their clothes to dry, the subcity cooked massive cauldrons of porridge made from high-quality broken rice.
The porridge contained only a small amount of salt and some bitter cactus stem flesh, added to boost vitamin content.
Even so, for the newcomers, this humble porridge was still a proper and rare delicacy.
Unfortunately, to prevent overeating, each person was allowed only two large bowls—about one jin in total.
Throughout the process, they stood fully exposed, enduring the pointed commentary of the city's women, the scene lively as a festival…
On military training:
Roughly three hundred scavengers with relatively better physiques had been absorbed into the guard force and were currently organized into a single recruit company.
Based on their performance in training, a small number of standouts would soon qualify to join the two regular companies.
The remainder would be reorganized into a secondary city defense force.
Whether elite regulars or second-tier guards, all squad leaders and officers would be drawn exclusively from the veteran guard members.
As a result, over the past few days, the old guards trained with feverish enthusiasm, as if injected with stimulants.
Meanwhile, night-duty assignments had become the most coveted tasks among them.
With sufficient cold-weather gear, the frigid nights posed little threat to these cockroach-like, resilient natives.
Under such conditions, the nightly benefit of one hundred milliliters of high-proof liquor became irresistibly appealing.
They often saved their ration during duty nights, keeping it to savor slowly on nights off.
What could be better for lonely nights than a bit of strong drink to soothe both body and soul?
In fact, there was something better—but thanks to Mi Gao's dog-brained forgetfulness, they were unable to enjoy it for the time being…
On other matters:
Once the number of coal miners reached five hundred, Mi Gao stopped increasing it, abandoning his earlier naive plan to send half his people to mine coal.
Only through practice did he discover the many unforeseen issues involved.
For instance, to prevent his fleet of well-worn, secondhand vehicles from being utterly destroyed, they could only manage a single round trip per day.
With just one trip, the water, food, and construction materials transported were only enough to sustain five hundred people.
More importantly, the output of five hundred miners was already substantial.
In just a few short days, after accounting for daily consumption, surplus coal had piled up into an enormous mound outside the city.
With fewer people needed for mining, idle hands inevitably increased.
Naturally, Mi Gao refused to let them remain idle. Under his organization, large scavenging teams were dispatched toward nearby minor ruins.
Unlike the scavengers of old, who sought only items that could be sold for money, these teams took everything.
Scrap wires, pipes, rebar—nothing was spared. They even hauled back bricks by tricycle and bicycle.
Thanks to this steady stream of building materials, the first target of the old city's reconstruction—a small, crude oil-refining workshop—had already completed its foundation, with a three-meter-high red-brick wall erected around it to block all prying eyes.
At the same time, the second reconstruction project—the Meridian Border Subcity Primary School—officially broke ground.
Thus, amid the relentless consumption of resources each day, Mi Gao keenly felt the advantages of abundant manpower, experiencing a mingling of pain and satisfaction.
And so the days passed in quiet ordinariness, without incident.
Yet for reasons he could not articulate, Mi Gao harbored an inexplicable premonition: something was about to happen—something that would shatter this current calm.