At 11:47 a. M., Delivery rider Zhou Xiaofei received the last order of the day.
A portion of pig's trotter rice costs one hundred and eighty-eight yuan to deliver, but the address reads: Dayongyan Prefecture, Heishiyi Death Pit.
He thought it was a prank, but the navigation took him into an abandoned tunnel. After exiting the tunnel, the tall buildings, street lights, and rainy night all disappeared, leaving only the burned-out inn, corpses everywhere, and the flames of war still in front.
There is no signal on the mobile phone, and the order countdown is still running.
Zhou Xiaofei found Wang Wanyu, who was seriously injured among the dead, and divided a portion of pig's trotter rice into two halves. After the order was completed, a new cross-time and space delivery rule appeared on the mobile phone: a maximum of three orders per day with a total weight of ten kilograms. The goods could only be placed at an unattended pick-up point, and all orders had to be delivered by him personally.
A bowl of porridge can sustain three people until dawn, but it cannot save thirty-seven refugees; a bag of salt can prepare life-saving sugar salt water, but it cannot cure all patients; a bag of seeds must be cultivated, irrigated, and harvested before it can become food for the next year.
Zhou Xiaofei gradually understood that what he could really bring to troubled times was not endless supplies of modern commodities, but a road that could deliver food, medicine and hope to people.
From the death pit to the deserted village, from Anmin Village to Anmin City, he established inns, warehouses, roads, account books and distribution teams. Many years later, people all over the world no longer wait for him to conjure a meal from his mobile phone, because no matter there is a famine, flood or war, someone will always deliver the food.
