Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 1007 - 987. I am hungry

Chapter 1007: 987. I am hungry

"Sorry, so sorry!" Driver Li hurriedly apologized, "The car in front suddenly turned..."

Qiaoqiao shook her head. "It’s okay, Uncle. It’s snowing. Just drive slower." Saying that, she smugly turned to Song Tan:

"Sister, am I right?"

Under the relentless chatter of this little motormouth, all of Song Tan’s affection had been obliterated. At this moment, she replied perfunctorily, "Right, right, you’re absolutely right."

Qiaoqiao could tell, though. She hummed a bit, pulled out her phone, and opened the calculator. "Uncle Chang bought radishes—40 a pound. Ten thousand yuan is 250 pounds. I didn’t get it wrong..."

Driver Li finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked, "Kid, are radishes at your house really 40 yuan a pound?" This silly kid, pretending to do math like that—kind of endearing, honestly.

Just thinking about how he worked hard for a whole month, only to earn a little over 200 pounds of radishes... it really made him feel like a big joke.

But Qiaoqiao nodded seriously. "Yep! Radishes 40, radish leaves 20, watermelon 20..."

Song Tan suddenly butted in, "Wintertime—watermelons have gone up: 60 a pound."

"Oh, oh," Qiaoqiao quickly corrected herself, "Watermelon’s 60 now."

This made the driver’s expression even more complicated. Believe it? Well, the prices sure sounded ridiculous. Not believe it? Hey, in winter, it’s true that watermelons in Imperial City can sell for 60. But the radishes—

He cautiously probed for confirmation. "Young lady, is your produce exclusively supplied to imported goods stores?"

"No?" Qiaoqiao was confused. "Why would it be for imported goods? We grow everything ourselves—it’s locally grown... and we’re not supplying anyone. We just sell at a roadside stall."

Apparently, in the sweet memory of Qiaoqiao’s mind, selling vegetables at a little stall was quite a happy thing—something unforgettable over the years.

Driver Li let out a sharp "Hissss," shocked by how extravagant domestic spending had become.

Qiaoqiao finished her math, went quiet for a bit, and then turned her head again. "Sister, I’m hungry."

Song Tan: ...Well, nothing she could do about that. "At the highway rest stop, you insisted on getting the meal combo but couldn’t finish it. Who’s to blame for that?"

A misstep indeed—she hadn’t brought anything along when they left. She herself only had a roasted sweet potato bought from the service station for lunch.

Qiaoqiao whimpered, "But I’ve never tried it before..."

Still, for now, they were in the car. Song Tan could only rummage through the nearby box for a bit and pulled out a cucumber. "Here, have this for now. Later when we’re back at the hotel, I’ll get you a kids’ meal with a toy."

Outside, the snow kept falling thicker. It was obviously no longer suitable to stop on the roadside for food. Better to quickly deliver the stuff to the hotel instead.

Qiaoqiao, unfussy as always, happily took the cucumber and excitedly began dreaming about the kids’ meal toy. "The kids’ meal from spring came with a little duck. What’s it this time?"

How would Song Tan know? She sighed helplessly. "Just eat, you little chatterbox. Aren’t you thirsty?"

Having just drunk water before getting in the car, Qiaoqiao wasn’t thirsty, but the cozy warmth inside did make him a bit restless. And honestly—who could resist a crisp, juicy cucumber?

He picked the plumpest end and took a big "crunch" into it. Immediately, the distinct refreshing scent of cucumber filled the enclosed car space, making Driver Li glance sideways involuntarily.

Qiaoqiao, unconcerned with others’ looks, continued munching away happily. The sound and smell were a full-on assault on Driver Li’s curiosity.

After a while, he couldn’t help it anymore. "Do you guys grow this cucumber yourselves? Wow! Just from the smell—it’s completely different from those hot-house vegetables at the supermarket."

Qiaoqiao paused mid-bite, staring in surprise. "Different how? Ours are hot-house veggies too!"

Driver Li: ...Smell this cucumber’s aroma—if this is hot-house produce, then what on earth are those supermarket cucumbers? 3D-printed or what?!

"It has to be different. This smells just like back when my old neighborhood hadn’t been demolished, and we’d buy veggies from the local street market. That’s what cucumbers should smell like!"

Qiaoqiao didn’t entirely understand.

But that didn’t matter—many customers who bought from them said similar things. Like, people act as though they’re used to eating cucumbers with a tomato taste.

So he enthusiastically pitched, "Uncle, next year, you can buy veggies from me too! Cucumber’s only 20 a pound."

Driver Li: "...Maybe not. Honestly, I prefer those flavorless cucumbers." But even as he said it, he remained unconvinced, because that aroma was downright tantalizing—and 20 a pound did seem too pricey!

Driver Li thought bitterly: Someday when I’ve got the money, I’ll splurge on those 60-yuan watermelons, 40-yuan radishes, and 20-yuan cucumbers!

Meanwhile, in the back seat, Song Tan was going to say that winter cucumbers weren’t priced like that—but then thought better of it. She wasn’t here to sell vegetables, after all. She simply kept her mouth shut.

She glanced at the time and sent Lun Chuan a message:

[It’s snowing, driving slower. Should reach the gate around 9:30—will that work for you?]

Lun Chuan was working on his writing and didn’t see the message right away. By the time he finished the planned storyline for the day, it was already 9:20 PM.

That’s when he saw the message from 20 minutes ago—

[Wanhe Garden has two gates, which one’s more convenient for me to park at?]

And another one from 10 minutes ago: [I’m at the north gate now. There’s quite a lot of stuff; it might be hard to carry alone. Should it be delivered downstairs?]

No reply all this time. The other party didn’t seem to be in a hurry. The phone sat quietly, no urgent notifications pressing him.

Lun Chuan quickly replied: [Sorry, I was busy earlier and missed your text. I’ll head to the north gate now.]

He threw on a jacket, grabbed his car keys, and looked out at the heavy, swirling snowfall. He also looped the scarf hanging by the entryway around his neck.

The elevator descended to the basement. When he got to his car and opened it, though it was an old vehicle he was used to, a damp, musty smell hit him immediately.

Reversing two steps instinctively, he covered his nose and quickly put on a mask.

As he started up the car, with the dim cabin light illuminating him, he caught a glimpse of himself fully decked out in the rearview mirror. Letting out a sigh, he thought:

Better pay a visit to the hospital someday—maybe the medicine he’s been taking has side effects? Feels like he’s becoming increasingly intolerant to regular outdoor environments.

Practically a fragile little glass-man, confined to spaces with advanced air filters.

At the apartment gate, Song Tan waited calmly in the car. Of course, Driver Li, per the customer’s instructions, had no objections to waiting. Only Qiaoqiao seemed restless, eyeing the snowy scenery with eager anticipation:

"Sister..."

Song Tan responded, "Hmm." "No playing for now. Let’s deliver the stuff to your brother first. Then I’ll take you to play at the hotel entrance."

But snow at the hotel entrance couldn’t possibly match the snow here—snow resting on greenery in flower beds, piled up enough for a proper snowball!

Qiaoqiao resisted the urge, glanced around anxiously, and finally fixated on a massive sign near the corner of the property—

[Charcoal-Grilled Sausages, 6 Yuan Each]

In the most pitiful tone, he declared, "I’m hungry..."

Song Tan, helpless, gave in. "Alright, alright. You can go play in the snow for a bit."

Thinking it over, Qiaoqiao really hadn’t eaten much on the trip, so saying he was hungry was probably true. That cucumber wasn’t substantial.

Eyeing the street-side snacks stand selling sausages, she opened the car door and stepped out cautiously on the thin layer of snow, heading toward it.

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