Zhou Yichen met Tang Xiaoman’s gaze. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, revealing nothing.

“I’m staying,” he said quietly, but clearly enough for everyone present to hear.

Tang Xiaoman relaxed, a trace of satisfaction showing as she nodded.

“Since everyone has decided to stay, then we need new rules,” she announced. “From this point on, we’re no longer just employer and employees. We’re a team—one that lives and dies together. Zhou Yichen remains your captain, and 01 is the vice-captain. You will follow orders and work together to get through this.”

“All the supplies we’ve stockpiled over the past two days belong to the team as a whole and will be distributed collectively. From now on, we’ll also need to go out and gather more resources. We must become self-sufficient.”

“This flood disaster isn’t ending anytime soon. No more food deliveries, no more catering trucks. From now on, we cook for ourselves. Learning how to cook is your top priority.”

She swept her gaze across the group. Seeing no objections, she continued, “Split into three teams. Go to Storage Rooms 1, 2, and 4. Organize all the food and supplies, log everything into an electronic inventory. Dr. Lu will be responsible for tracking all incoming and outgoing goods daily.”

At her command, the group quickly divided into three teams under Zhou Yichen’s direction and got to work.

Lu Jingming was about to join them when Tang Xiaoman stopped him.

“It’s late. Take Shanshan to bed first.”

*

After more than an hour of work, the supplies—worth three hundred thousand—were fully sorted and stored. Thirty large freezers and over twenty refrigerated cabinets were filled to capacity.

Grains, cooking oil, beans, dried noodles, instant noodles, and packaged self-heating hot pots were stacked neatly in cabinets. Everything was categorized and logged into a digital inventory.

After putting his daughter to sleep, Lu Jingming returned to take over the records. He created a detailed spreadsheet and saved it on his laptop.

From now on, all supply tracking for Villa 98 would be his responsibility—essentially doubling as the team’s accountant.

Tang Xiaoman then led everyone to the large kitchen on the first floor.

The kitchen, spanning seventy to eighty square meters, was outfitted with twelve stoves. Each station was fully equipped with pots, knives, spatulas, bowls, and utensils—twelve complete sets.

“Download cooking tutorials on your phones—whatever dishes you like,” she instructed. “Watch them carefully tonight. Tomorrow morning, everyone cooks their own meals. Understood?”

“Understood!” they responded in unison.

*

The storm raged through the night, relentless and unceasing.

By morning, the homeowners’ group chat had exploded again—some villas had their windows shattered by the typhoon winds.

The news on television painted an even grimmer picture. Countless apartment buildings had their windows blown out, furniture and belongings swept away, leaving residents with nothing.

Some had even been blown out of their homes entirely, dragged into the roaring floodwaters below, never to surface again.

In times like these, the value of impact-resistant glass became painfully clear—and the stockpile Tang Xiaoman had prepared was now priceless.

Yet when homeowners in the group chat began offering high prices for such glass, Tang Xiaoman said nothing.

She had no intention of revealing how many resources she possessed. Besides, the disaster had only just begun. As time passed, the value of those materials would only skyrocket.

These wealthy residents would find ways to obtain glass eventually—it would just cost them more time and money.

Huo Kai messaged her privately: “They’ve started distributing supplies in the villa district. Come over—I saved a share for you.”

Clearly, he now understood the value of her warning last night and was offering additional compensation.

“No need,” she replied.

She didn’t hold any shares in those two enterprises and had no desire to take advantage.

Besides, Huo Kai had already waived three months of her mortgage. Her only intention had been to stop Gu Heng from profiting off the situation.

“Hah. Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” the young tycoon replied, slipping into his usual flirtatious, greasy tone.

Tang Xiaoman shuddered, sent him a “shut your mouth” meme, and ignored him after that.

*

Gu Heng, having failed to secure control over the two enterprises, could only send people to assist under the Huo family’s command, with no opportunity to skim off the top.

It left him deeply frustrated.

What frustrated him even more—

“…The assassin finally made it to the club, but after searching all five floors, he didn’t find a single person. On his way back, his kayak was overturned by the typhoon—he nearly lost his life. He managed to resurface and call for help. The helicopter we sent almost got flipped by the storm as well.”

“After a night of chaos, we finally brought the assassin back to Tianlai Villa to rest. The private detective agency just reported that Tang Xiaoman moved into Villa 98 two days ago—with over a dozen bodyguards.”

“Just before dawn, the assassin tried again at Villa 98, but the place is like a fortress—bulletproof glass, high-voltage electric fencing. He couldn’t even find a way in.”

“After a full night, he’s completely exhausted. He needs a day to rest before making another attempt tonight.”

Hearing all this, Gu Heng nearly exploded with rage.

An entire night wasted—for nothing.

This was the top-tier assassin he’d spent ten million to hire?

Useless trash.

Su Rou spoke softly, trying to soothe him. “Brother Ah Heng, don’t be angry. There’s no need to rush to kill her. She still has her uses.”

“I don’t want to marry her anymore,” Gu Heng snapped, clenching his fists. “I just want her dead—now!”

Su Rou blinked her watery eyes and gently reminded him, “But if she dies like this, my father won’t be able to obtain the final portion of shares. That would affect both of our inheritance rights.”

Gu Heng fell silent for a moment. “Then what do you suggest?”

“We stick to the original plan—capture her, not kill her,” Su Rou said softly, her eyes shimmering. “Now that we know she’s in Tianlai Villa, we can just wait for her to come to us.”

*

Tang Xiaoman had no idea that a world-class assassin had spent the entire night chasing her—or that Gu Heng and Su Rou were plotting against her.

After freshening up, she went downstairs to find everyone already carrying breakfast from the kitchen into the dining room.

The dishes were varied, their quality uneven—but they smelled decent enough.

“Miss Tang, I made breakfast for you,” Lu Jingming said, handing her a plate—sandwiches, milk, and a vegetable salad.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting it before turning to the others. “Everyone, share a bit of your food with me. I want to taste your cooking.”

Zhou Yichen gave her half of his steak. The others followed suit, offering portions from their plates.

Tang Xiaoman sampled each one.

Before she even finished, someone had already spat theirs out.

“Damn—I used salt instead of sugar,” 03 said bitterly, gulping down water.

A whole plate of sweet-and-sour ribs—ruined.

No, not sweet-and-sour. Salt-and-sour.

Others had mistaken vinegar for soy sauce, producing inedible dishes. Some had over-salted to the point of being unbearable, others under-seasoned into blandness. Some hadn’t cooked their food through, while others had overcooked everything into mush.

Tang Xiaoman tasted every dish and gave positive marks to Lu Jingming, Zhou Yichen, 01, and 05. The rest received poor or disastrous evaluations.

Holding their plates, the others looked at her pitifully.

“Can we… try again?” someone asked tentatively.

“You can,” Tang Xiaoman said.

Before they could smile, she added, “But any ingredients you use for a second attempt—you’ll have to buy them.”

After all, she had made them withdraw cash yesterday.

Now it was time to put it to use.