Wasteland Stockpiling: My Pocket Dimension Is Full of Survival Crops

Ten years after nuclear winter descended, the earth lies cracked and radiation fills the air. Staying alive has become the greatest luxury. While scavenging on the brink of death, Su Wan unexpectedly awakens a portable space: a “secret warehouse” that maintains a constant temperature, keeps everything fresh, and can expand without limit.

From then on, her goal shifts from “staying alive” to “filling it up.” A single leaf of mutated wild greens from the edge of the radiation zone can keep her going for two days. A grass seed found by a ruined wall is as big as a quail egg, and just a few make a meal. Like a cautious hamster, Su Wan carries a homemade, rudimentary detector as she carefully tests, sorts, and stores what she finds among the rubble. As her “food stores” steadily fill, so does her sense of security.

Along the way, she takes in Lu Chen, a quiet, taciturn man who is remarkably obedient. He keeps watch while she sorts seeds, hands her clean water when she’s tired, and earnestly nods and says, “Whatever you say,” when she plans their “future little farm.”

On this desolate land, one of them stockpiles food while the other protects their home. With the tiny patches of green in their space, they fight the endless wasteland winter, slowly piecing together a vision of “tomorrow” that belongs to them both.