Cheng Xu, looking utterly drained, forced back his nausea and returned the ring to Xi Xi: "Alright, they're all asleep..."

"How was it? Did you find out any information?" Xi Xi put the ring back on, feeling as if she were wearing a scorching ring of fire.

"Although it's unbearable to look at, this pillow talk is really effective..." Cheng Xu took a big gulp of water, opened the private message interface on the light screen, and recorded all the information he had just learned through private messages.

The Yamato Guard currently has nearly two hundred members and more than twenty vehicles, making them an extremely wealthy force in the survival game.

According to Rui Xiaomin's subsequent conversation with the Emperor, the organization was divided into several teams, such as a road reconnaissance team, a supplies collection team, and a logistics team...

At this point, Cheng Xu fell silent. The opposing side had a much larger number of people, and theoretically, they were far superior in every way. How could their small group possibly handle them?

...

At dawn, twelve dark green minivans led the way across the icy bridge, the crisp sound of their tracks crushing the ice crystals startling a flock of seabirds into flight.

A luxury RV suddenly appeared behind the lead car. The curtains of the restaurant on the first floor were suddenly pulled open, and Rui Xiaomin, wrapped in a mink coat, waved a gold-plated coffee cup at the snowy landscape outside. The necklace around her neck reflected a faint glow in the morning light.

Taking advantage of the morning snow to travel quickly has become a common survival principle, and the Yamato Guard is no exception.

She looked out the window at the receding scenery, then glanced at the soft, steaming bread on her plate, and a sense of superiority welled up inside her.

The RV was luxurious and the temperature was just right. I heard that it had been completely renovated with concentrated resources, so it was naturally much better than her small RV.

Rui Xiaomin immediately had a strong idea—she had to find a way to move into this RV.

The daily hardening of the cold butter and the charcoal stove that provided little warmth could no longer satisfy her ever-growing desires. She looked around and secretly began to make plans.

She is young and beautiful, and possesses a level of endurance and special skills in that area that most women lack. It's only a matter of time before she rises to the upper echelons of the Yamato Guard.

In fact, she had originally considered not rushing things, but rather taking things step by step, letting things unfold naturally, and rising steadily. However, after the onset of the severe cold and the shattered car window, Rui Xiaomin knew that she could no longer wait.

Why? Why is it that as the Emperor's woman, her residence is worse than that of those squad leaders?

Rui Xiaomin thought bitterly, unaware that the heart-shaped necklace around her neck was secretly shimmering.

As the footsteps sounded, Rui Xiaomin was feeding the Emperor bread in a coquettish manner.

An ordinary-looking, bland-looking middle-aged woman wearing camel-colored sheepskin boots walked briskly down the spiral staircase, glancing indifferently at the two lovers.

The Emperor saw the middle-aged woman's slightly mocking gaze and instantly lost interest. He waved to Rui Xiaomin, signaling her to leave.

“Si needs to rest.” The middle-aged woman’s words were laced with the chill of a scalpel, her slender fingers tracing across Rui Xiaomin’s shoulder. “Please.”

Rui Xiaomin couldn't understand the Japanese language, but she could understand her gestures.

The outline of a glass medicine bottle was faintly visible in the pocket of the woman's white coat, and the label on the bottle had a blurry mark.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Rui Xiaomin turned to look at the Emperor, about to squeeze out a tear and offer a cup of tea, trying to see a hint of reluctance in his eyes.

Unfortunately, the man in the pig's gaze remained fixed straight ahead, completely oblivious to Rui Xiaomin's emotions.

A feeling of resentment rose in her heart, but Rui Xiaomin did not show it. She forced a smile, bowed to the fat man, and then swayed her hips as she got out of the car.

"Yada Tsukasa, have you forgotten what I said?"

This was the last thing Rui Xiaomin heard before she got off the bus.

But she didn't understand and thought it was the wife putting on airs, deliberately showing off in Japanese in front of her.

Unfortunately, the weather turned bad and it started snowing heavily again. The convoy stopped to make some quick stops. Fifty meters away, the laborers, wrapped in tattered blankets, were swallowing moldy compressed biscuits with snow water. Suddenly, one of the men choked and spat out half a piece of green mold.

Rui Xiaomin glanced at these "lower-class people" with a hint of disgust, then walked towards her small RV.

Her high heels sank half a foot into the snow. As she passed a tent, Rui Xiaomin twisted her ankle: "Damn it, what bad luck!"

She abandoned her coquettish demeanor from the previous night and couldn't help but burst into a tirade of curses.

Ouch, that hurts... I'd better let Aunt Luo carry me back. Rui Xiaomin opened the light screen and sent a very impatient private message to Luo Qian.

The lower-class laborer beside her was still retching. Rui Xiaomin covered her nose and slowly made her way around to the streetlights.

Just as she was about to approach the streetlight, a faint sound came from behind the nearby electrical meter boxes.

"Yes, the supplies are in hand, don't worry... he won't know."

Is that Miyano's voice? Who is he talking to?!

Rui Xiaomin hurriedly pulled out her phone and opened the translator.

"That Yada Tsukasa guy, he's just lucky. He was originally just a kindergarten lunch cook, doing the lowest-level job... Yeah, if he hadn't thought the housing prices in the East City were too expensive and bought a motorhome instead, would he have started out so high?"

"His wife is quite capable, she knows medicine... yes, yes..."

"All the brothers' hard work was put into that bastard... If it weren't for me, would Bo Zhijing have won first place?"

"Let's take stock of the supplies at the usual time, and we'll split the bill... Okay..."

...

The words displayed by the phone's translator startled Rui Xiaomin, setting off alarm bells as if she had discovered some terrible secret, causing her heart to pound wildly.

Her hand, which was covering her nose and mouth, trembled. Ignoring the excruciating pain in her ankle, she limped away from this place of trouble.

On the other side, Xi Zhantao's family was holding down Cheng's father, who was convulsing. The father and son heated the bronze fishing rod until it was red-hot and were whipping Cheng's father and mother hard.

"You've got quite the backbone..." Xi Yunchen grinned maliciously as he pressed the branding iron against Cheng's father's back. "Why aren't you yelling now?! Weren't you so good at backing up that bitch and her daughter?"

He had given the logistics team leader, Fujishima Taro, a whole bag of compressed biscuits in exchange for the right to carry out his own punishments, and now he was going to show off his power.

"Keep your voice down, don't torture me to death!" Luo Qian stood at the tent entrance, looking at the wind, saying one thing but her eyes were full of mockery.

The moment smoke rose from the charred flesh, Cheng's father suddenly opened his eyes wide. Unable to stop crying, Cheng's mother could only kneel on the ground and kowtow repeatedly to the three men, begging for mercy.

"No matter what, you're letting that dog captain off too easily. Have you forgotten how Fujishima intimidated us back then?" Xi Zhantao felt a pang of heartache at the thought of the compressed biscuits. He had stolen them from Cheng's father's car and deliberately didn't hand them over!

The food for low-level laborers was so poor that they could only scrape off the leftovers from Rui Xiaomin's meals to fill their stomachs. They had hoped to survive on these biscuits for ten days or half a month, but they never expected the spendthrift to squander them like this. Did he really think he was still living the life of being waited on hand and foot?

Hearing her husband scold their son like that, Luo Qian was a little displeased. Just as she was about to speak, she saw a familiar figure appear at the tent entrance: "Second... Second Madam...?"