“Senior’s base? You mean the farm stay later on?”

“I’d love to go, but I’d have to be able to get there first.”

“Even if one or two people win, that doesn’t mean everyone will be that lucky.”

Just a moment ago, the group had been in high spirits, but now they couldn’t help but speak in a downcast tone—after all, this was Senior Daliu’s base.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it happen.” The curve of Yang Hong’s lips grew more pronounced, and his heart began to pound uncontrollably. He had never mentioned that he had once lived at the base.

At first, it was to avoid trouble; back then, the fact that the infection rate of crops at the base had dropped was still being kept secret from the outside world. Later, after Tong Zhanyan made the infection rate public, he had thought about mentioning it, but he’d never found the right opportunity.

This time was different; he felt this was a good opportunity.

“Arrangements?” Changge raised an eyebrow; Ten Years in the Clouds seemed surprisingly confident. “Group admin, are you serious?”

“Do you have a connection?”

“But haven’t the sign-ups for the farm stay even started yet?”

Yang Hong didn’t explain; he simply said, “Anyway, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.” After a pause, he added, “Just remember not to tell anyone yet.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Yang Hong closed the chat window and turned to contact Tian Xinqing and Ning Langdong.

Tong Zhanyan must have already spoken with the two of them, because when Yang Hong reached out, they were clearly already in the know and had a plan in place. They would tell the public it was a trial run before the official opening, with the number of spots determined by Yang Hong’s group.

The agritourism program offers three options: a 10-day session, a one-month session, and a long-term three-month session to be introduced later. However, considering the high demand expected in the early stages, only the 10-day option is currently available.

Fees are calculated by the number of people: 1,500 yuan for ten days.

At 1,500 yuan for ten days, that works out to 150 yuan per day.

With room and board included—and assuming the meals consist of locally grown produce—it’s certainly not expensive; in fact, it’s practically a loss.

Ning Langdong, Tian Xinqing, Su Yanran, and the rest of the group all felt the price was a bit low, but Tong Zhanyan didn’t think it was a big deal—after all, those people would be coming to help with the farm work.

Since Tong Zhanyan had no objections, Ning Langdong and the others naturally couldn’t say anything more, so the matter was settled.

“Tong Zhanyan said he can give you an additional 20% discount,” Tian Xinqing said. “You’re considered an insider at our base.”

Yang Hong had worked with Tong Zhanyan before and knew from the start that his pricing wouldn’t be too high, but he was still surprised when he actually heard the figure. Even at other tourist attractions, the fees were higher than this.

Hearing that he could get an even bigger discount left him at a loss for words—Tong Zhanyan was just as he always was. But when he heard the phrase “insider,” his eyes instantly welled up with tears.

He suddenly recalled the early days of his relationship with Tong Zhanyan. Back then, he’d thrown his keyboard in frustration more times than he could count and had cursed Tong Zhanyan just as often. At one point, he’d even thought Tong Zhanyan would drive him to his grave sooner or later.

Tian Xinqing said, “I’ll send you the registration page. Have them sign up, and I’ll keep a record of it here.”

With that, Tian Xinqing sent the link to the three-person group chat.

The registration page was created specifically for Tong Zhanyan by Lu Yin after he contacted them; it is currently in the testing phase. Lu Yin’s own website will also make it convenient to post the information directly below the livestream later on.

“No need for a discount. I’ll compile the list as soon as possible.” Yang Hong switched tabs. In the group chat, Changge and the others had already reached over 99 messages. 

That was Senior Da Liu’s base—a sacred place in their hearts.

Yang Hong took a deep breath and posted the registration link. “Everyone, fill out the form.”

The group, which had been bustling moments ago, fell instantly silent as everyone clicked to open the link.

A moment later, the group returned.

“It’s actually the Green Shade website—it looks so real.”

“Group admin, don’t joke around like this. You’re making me take it seriously.”

“It really looks like Green Shade’s website—you can even click through to their homepage…”

“This joke isn’t funny at all.”

“Please don’t joke about this,” Changge urged.

She was the only one who had ever won a prize and visited Senior Da Liu’s base, making her a legend in their two hundred-plus group chats to this day.

Even though she’d been there, the base held the same special place in her heart as ever. If she had the chance to go back, she’d

be willing to spend every last penny she had.

So this joke really wasn’t funny.

“You’ll find out if it’s true once you fill out the form. If things go smoothly, you should be notified tomorrow.” Yang Hong felt a pang of bitterness in his heart. He knew full well that this wasn’t something to laugh about for everyone else.

If he hadn’t been infected with the frenzy, if he hadn’t been lucky enough to be selected back then, he’d likely be one of them now. The group fell silent once more.

None of them believed it was true, but they’d known Ten-Year Cloud for over three years now. Their past experiences with him told them he wasn’t the type to make such a cruel joke.

But if it wasn’t a joke…

At that moment, everyone’s hearts began to race uncontrollably, pounding like a rapid drumbeat. If it wasn’t a joke, that meant they might actually have a chance to go to the base.

By the time they came to their senses, the group had already returned to the webpage. They eagerly scanned it and then carefully filled out the form. The information wasn’t extensive—mainly contact details and identification—and it took the group only a few minutes to complete.

After finishing, when the group returned to the small chat, they all bombarded Yang Hong with questions about what was going on with the “Ten-Year Cloud” event. Yang Hong simply left a message saying, “We’ll talk when we meet,” and went silent.

The group spent the entire night on tetherhooks.

Many didn’t sleep at all, constantly refreshing their Green Shade pages. Ten Years in the Clouds had mentioned that Green Shade would send a notification.

However, by 10 a.m., they still hadn’t received any notification.

As the clock neared 11:00 a.m., the group was frantic with anxiety, so desperate they wanted to rush over to “Ten Years in the Clouds” immediately to demand an explanation—when Green Shade finally responded.

A message about the trial operation of “Farmhouse Fun” was posted as an announcement in Senior Da Liu’s livestream. The moment they saw that announcement, the group who’d been on edge all night could no longer sit still.

“Doesn’t this look legit?”

“Aaaah—”

“Where’s the group admin? Admin, come out and say something! Don’t do this to us—explain yourself…”

“@Admin.”

“The announcement says that since it’s a trial run, they won’t be accepting public applications for now, but will use other methods instead…”

“It’s starting to look more and more real.”

“Do any of you have the group admin’s contact number? He needs to come forward and explain himself today, or I’m really going to lose it.” 

“I do,” Changge chimed in.

“Contact him right away.”

“Ahhh, hurry up and ask him if it’s true!”

“I tried contacting him last night, but he didn’t pick up.”

Changge said helplessly. “…Suddenly, I really feel like punching someone.”

“Damn it.”

“When I actually see him, I’m definitely going to beat him up.”

As the announcement went out, the live stream chat exploded with activity.

They didn’t really mind that sign-ups weren’t open to the public for the beta test—after all, it was supposed to be a beta.

Instead, their attention was focused more on the agritourism resort itself. Since the trial run had already begun, that meant the official opening couldn’t be far off.

“I’ve already got the money ready.”

“Me too.”

“I wonder how we’ll sign up when the time comes.”

“To sign up faster, I’ve already splurged on the latest model of the terminal.”

“That’s got me tempted too.”

……

After the announcement was released, Tian Xinqing confirmed the details with Yang Hong once more before officially notifying the people on the list. He wrote the notification himself, but the number used was the official one.

The first to see the notification was “Fish-Loving Kitten.” The moment he read it, he intended to notify the others in the group, but his excitement left him speechless—all that came out was a shriek: “Aaaah—”

“Aaaah—”

The same screams appeared in the group chat four or five times in a row. Fish-Loving Kitten wasn’t the only one constantly refreshing the Green Shade page. “What’s going on?” some asked, confused.

“Look at Green Shade.” 

“It’s a notification.”

“It’s really an announcement—an official notice from the seniors’ livestream.” 

“Aaaah—”

……

The base, on the grounds.

Gu Yunyang looked at the excited shouts flooding the group chat and fell silent…

Who on earth is it?

As one of the first to discover Tong Zhanyan’s livestream, he had been in the group since the “Victims’ Alliance” was first created. As the group continued to grow, he naturally became an administrator and was naturally added to the private chat.

And as the group’s founder, Ten Years in the Clouds, he’d interacted with him countless times—yet over the past three years, the other party had never once hinted that he was also at the Base.

Of course, neither had he.

Gu Yunyang looked around. Most of the people in the field were bent over pulling weeds, with only a few chatting. He didn’t see anyone playing on a terminal in the group.

Not among the students?

Gu Yunyang’s heart skipped a beat.

Given Tong Zhanyan’s character, it was impossible for him to sell the spot. The only people who could have secured a beta test slot were those he personally knew.

The people Tong Zhanyan knew were mostly at the base.

If they weren’t students, then could they be the group of guards from before, or perhaps people who came here after winning the “Frenzy Draw” and then left?

Gu Yunyang looked toward Ning Langdong and his two companions, who were walking toward him while discussing something. He hesitated, wondering whether to go over and ask them. They were on good terms, so if he asked, the three of them probably wouldn’t keep it from him…

Gu Yunyang stared in their direction for a moment, but ultimately decided against it.

If they were indeed people who had also stayed at the base, as he suspected, then they should recognize him. After all, he was the student representative.

That made him look forward to the moment they actually met—their expressions would surely be priceless.

Imagining that scene, Gu Yunyang instantly felt elated.

The farm stay officially began a week later.

Since they were carrying luggage, Tian Xinqing and Ning Langdong arranged to meet at the back gate. Yang Hong took leave three days in advance and checked into a hotel outside the base a day early. The official meeting time was 9:00 a.m. sharp.

Yang Hong arrived at eight o’clock.

He thought he had arrived early, but when he got there, several people were already standing at the entrance.

The group included both men and women, all of whom were visibly excited; several had dark circles under their eyes, looking as though they hadn’t slept properly in days.

None of them spoke; they simply eyed each other with curiosity. They were waiting for everyone to arrive before unwrapping this surprise together.

By 7:20 a.m., twenty-three out of twenty-four people had arrived.

The melancholic research nerd had mentioned earlier in the group chat that he might be a little late.

Seeing that everyone was there and that there was still some time before the doors opened, Yang Hong took a deep

breath and stepped onto the stairs. “Everyone, look this way.” The group immediately turned to look.

“My name is Yang Hong,” Yang Hong said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “My group nickname and Green Shade ID is ‘Ten Years in the Clouds’.”

The crowd stirred instantly.

“Ten Years in the Clouds”—that was the group admin, the original founder of the Victims’ Alliance, Senior Da Liu’s most loyal supporter over the past few years, and the organizer of this gathering.

“Yang Hong? Are you that Yang Hong from the Gu Family?” someone recognized him.

As the frenzy subsided and Yang Hong returned to the Gu Family, his name resurfaced in the public eye.

Alongside his name appeared those of Wang Yanzhou, Tang Shijin, and Chu Yi.

Some even joked that this was the best of times, since they now had not only Tong Zhanyan but also Yang Hong and a group of former heroes and prominent figures returning.

“Yes, I am that Yang Hong from the Gu Family,” Yang Hong said calmly. A stir ran through the crowd.

None of them had ever revealed their true identities in the group chat before, so everyone had formed their own speculations about the others. Yet none had ever imagined that one of them would be a hero whose fame echoed throughout the entire protective shield.

What drove them even crazier was that they had long heard about Yang Hong receiving treatment at the base.

“You’ve been at the base the whole time and didn’t tell us?” 

“Liar!”

“That’s how you got the spot…”

“I knew it—how could an ordinary person get a spot?”

“It’s been almost four years, and you never told us…”

Facing the crowd’s teary-eyed accusations, Yang Hong cleared his throat awkwardly. “At first, there was a confidentiality agreement, so I couldn’t say anything. Later…” 

“Liar.”

“And we actually thought of you as our group admin.” 

“Exactly.”

The group wasn’t buying it, and the more they thought about it, the angrier they got.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Yang Hong could only smile and let them vent their anger. After a while, the group finally calmed down.

“I can’t help but think of you guys whenever I get the chance,” Yang Hong said, rubbing his nose. At the thought of being able to enter the base soon, everyone’s mood brightened a bit.

“Since we’re still a bit early, let’s all introduce ourselves. Even though this is our first time meeting in person, we’ve actually known each other for nearly four years.” Yang Hong changed the subject.

Looking around, a woman in her mid-twenties with a high ponytail stepped forward from the group. “My ID is Changge. My real name is also Changge—it’s the ‘chang’ from ‘often.’ I work in monitoring, specifically monitoring the protective shield…”

The previously quiet crowd instantly erupted into a buzz of conversation.

The protective shield was the very foundation of their survival, and to the group, any work related to it seemed somewhat unbelievable.

“I’m just a lowly employee…” Changge said with a wry smile.

There were many engineering roles related to the protective shield—such as those on the front lines, or the Four Great Families overseeing the conversion devices—and she was merely a small cog in the machine. Still, she was somewhat used to this reaction; after all, the job did sound rather impressive.

After Changge finished introducing herself, a man in his thirties who looked quite enthusiastic jogged up the steps. He gave a chuckle. “Fish-loving Kitten, real name Wang Shuo. I’m pretty ordinary—just a working stiff.”

The tension in the group’s nerves eased.

If everyone were like Yang Hong or Changge, would they even be able to survive?

The third person stepped onto the stage. He was in his forties, with a lean, muscular build that clearly came from regular exercise.

“Zheng Tingdang. I’m currently a combatant for the Xu family. My ID is ‘Tide’s Echo.’”

There were only a few million people inside the protective shield, so combatants weren’t exactly rare.

After Zheng Tingtuo stepped down, a well-dressed man in a suit and thin gold-rimmed glasses, looking quite refined, took the stage.

“My in-game name is Zhongxia Fenghao Liang; my real name is Ye Feng.” After a brief pause, Ye Feng added, “I studied pharmaceutical science and currently work at the Lin family’s medical research institute.”

Ye Feng spoke casually, but the crowd below couldn’t help but raise their eyebrows.

Due to the frenzy, research institutes had sprung up everywhere. Anyone who managed to get into one of the Four Great Families’ institutes was undoubtedly a top-tier talent in the industry. Ye Feng looked very young; if he’d managed to get in at his age, it certainly wasn’t as simple as he made it sound.

More importantly, though Ye Feng appeared refined, there was something inexplicably fitting about his online alias—it gave people a spine-chilling sensation. After the introduction, Ye Feng stepped down.

At the same time, a young-looking woman stepped forward. “Hello, everyone. My name is Wu Yin. Since I’ve always wanted to eat hot pot, I gave myself the online nickname ‘Craving Hot Pot’…”

Although this was the first time the group had met in person, they’d known each other for several years. Once they got past the initial awkwardness, they quickly settled in.

Once the last person had introduced themselves, the group eagerly began discussing their plans for the days ahead. They had longed to visit this base and had plenty of things they wanted to see and experience.

Ten days might sound like a long time, but to them, it was nowhere near enough. Most importantly, they were about to meet Senior Da Liu.

Yang Hong didn’t interrupt. He glanced at the time and looked toward the base—it was almost time. Someone was heading this way.

Yang Hong thought it was Tong Zhanyan, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was someone else. As he drew near,

Gu Yunyang waved at the group standing outside the door.

Yang Hong was puzzled. What was Gu Yunyang doing here?

Before Yang Hong could figure it out, Ning Langdong and his two companions, along with Tong Zhanyan, were already making their way over from a distance. The crowd outside noticed them and fell silent instantly.

Everyone’s gaze was fixed on Tong Zhanyan.

That was Senior Da Liu—the real, living Senior Da Liu.

Although Tong Zhanyan’s true identity had long been common knowledge thanks to the livestream, they still habitually called him Senior Da Liu.

As he approached, Tong Zhanyan cast a puzzled glance at Gu Yunyang, who was waiting nearby, and opened the door.

“Hello, everyone,” Tong Zhanyan said with a smile.

Except for Yang Hong, no one spoke; they all just stared at Tong Zhanyan with reddened eyes.

They had been waiting for this moment for a long time. On the way here, they had rehearsed this moment countless times in their minds, yet when it finally arrived, their minds went blank.

This was Senior Tong, the senior they’d been thinking about for years.

“Come on in,” Tong Zhanyan said matter-of-factly, leading the way into the base. The group followed instinctively.

Yang Hong lagged behind, waiting until everyone had gone inside before following.

Although he had already spent quite some time at this base, his feelings were still mixed as he returned.

Gu Yunyang followed behind Yang Hong. “So you’re ‘Ten Years in the Clouds’, the one whose been a fan for nearly half a decade?”

Yang Hong, who had been feeling moved, stopped in his tracks. He turned around in disbelief. “You—”

He had never told anyone his online alias—at least not to anyone at the base. The only people who knew it were those in the group chat.

“Melancholic Research Dog,” Gu Yunyang announced his online alias.

“You’re ‘Melancholic Research Dog’?!” Yang Hong practically shouted the words. Could it really be that Gu Yunyang was “Melancholy Research Dog”?

Hearing the shout, the group walking ahead was startled and turned to look.

“Melancholy Research Dog?”

The whole group turned to look at Gu Yunyang.

Of course, they knew “Melancholic Research Dog”—and the name left a deep impression on every one of them. After all, he was clearly a plant expert; in the early days, he had even mentored Changge.

Didn’t the Melancholic Researcher say he’d be coming later?

Is the person next to Yang Hong the Melancholic Research Dog? But wasn’t he just standing inside the base?

What does this mean? Has the Melancholic Researcher been inside the base the whole time? Never mind Yang Hong—has the Melancholic Researcher been here the whole time, too?

“Ahem…” Facing everyone’s furious stares, Gu Yunyang gave an awkward smile. “Hello, everyone…”

“Liar,” Changge blurted out. She looked from Gu Yunyang to Yang Hong, feeling as if she’d been dealt a million points of damage.

She had become the envy of countless people simply because she’d won a prize once, yet it turned out that Yang Hong and Gu Yunyang actually lived inside the base. And if it were just Yang Hong, that would be one thing, but Gu Yunyang was there too?

“I’m done with you.”

“Liar…”

The others were furious as well.

Gu Yunyang and Yang Hong exchanged a glance, and the awkwardness between them grew.

Changge and her group averted their gaze, determined to give them the cold shoulder.

At the very front of the crowd, Tong Zhanyan, who was trying to smile, had a stiff grin on his lips. Although he didn’t quite understand what was going on, the phrase “melancholic research dog” had stirred up some memories.

Some not-so-pleasant memories.

“Melancholic Research Dog” was the first person to leave a comment in his livestream, and someone who had once made him feel depressed just by seeing their name. Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but glance at Gu Yunyang again.

Gu Yunyang had indeed confessed to him before that he’d once insulted him, but back then, there were few people watching his livestream who hadn’t insulted him, so he hadn’t made a big deal out of it.

But was Gu Yunyang really “Melancholic Research Dog”?

A moment later, the group arrived at the open area outside the cafeteria.

“Welcome, everyone…” Tong Zhanyan said the welcoming remarks with practiced ease. “This is Ning Langdong. He’s in charge of everything related to the back door. You can go to him with any issues, and he’ll also give you a tour later.”

Tong Zhanyan was a bit nervous at first, but as more people arrived, he got used to it. After finishing his remarks, Tong Zhanyan turned to Ning Langdong.

The latter stepped forward with a knowing look. “I’ll take you to the dorm first.”

“Wait a minute,” Yang Hong said.

Everyone turned to look.

Yang Hong gave Tong Zhanyan a deep look, gathered his courage, and said, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I never found the right moment.” Yang Hong looked at Changge and the others. “Now that they’re here, I think this is a good opportunity.”

Hearing Yang Hong’s words, Chang Ge and the others—who had been bewildered just a moment ago—immediately caught on. Their hearts raced, and the hands hanging at their sides clenched tightly.

When they first created the Victims’ Alliance, they had simply wanted a place to chat outside the livestream.

Back then, many people were creating groups, but Tong Zhanyan—who should have been the one to start one—hadn’t made a move, so they just went with the flow…

Back then, they’d actually been wanting to tell Tong Zhanyan all along that this might give their group a chance to go official and become a real fan group for Senior Da Liu.

But they never found the right opportunity.

Later, as Tong Zhanyan gained more and more attention and found himself in deep trouble, the nature of the group changed—it became a grassroots organization dedicated to protecting him.

By that point, they had actually given up on the idea of becoming an official fan group, because an organization like that, if it ever caused any trouble, was bound to attract hatred.

Tong Zhanyan’s situation was already precarious; they didn’t want to cause him any more trouble, and they certainly didn’t want him to worry about them in return. Much later, Tong Zhanyan established this fanbase.

They watched the base grow stronger, saw the number of viewers in the livestream increase, and witnessed Tong Zhanyan become someone no one dared to touch—a figure embraced by everyone.

And so, they became unnecessary.

But even so, they were happy—happy for Tong Zhanyan, and even happier for themselves.

They were glad they’d done those things for Tong Zhanyan, even if he never knew it.

“Tong Zhanyan, we—” Yang Hong glanced at the group around him, “we used to create some groups, filled with people who liked us.”

“Groups?” Tong Zhanyan asked in surprise.

“Yeah, at first there was just one, then over ten, then dozens, and now there are over two hundred…” 

Yang Hong smiled. “I’m the group admin, and they were the first to join the groups—they’re also the group admins.”

Yang Hong brought this up not to take credit in front of Tong Zhanyan; he had only one purpose: he wanted Tong Zhanyan to know.

To know that there was a group of people who liked him. That was enough.

“What’s it called?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

“It’s called—” Yang Hong’s words caught in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Tong Zhanyan asked, puzzled.

The crowd, their eyes already red, also fell silent.