Tong Zhanyan sent a message asking about it on his own.

Neither of them was busy—Tong Zhanyan had already finished his evening routine and was lying in bed, yet neither had replied.

It wasn’t urgent, so Tong Zhanyan just went to sleep.

The next day, after breakfast, he drove around the farm to make sure everything was running smoothly, then headed to the lake to continue working on his gazebo.

That lake had originally been where he raised fish and shrimp; later, it became a regular spot for him and Qing Jiyue to take after-dinner walks. Over time, it had evolved into a famous “dating sanctuary” for the two of them, as seen in the base’s livestreams.

Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue found themselves both amused and exasperated at one point. Amid their mixed feelings, neither of them offered an explanation.

With so many people at the base, there was nowhere to go that wasn’t crowded except for the mountains, so they were quite happy to have a place that belonged exclusively to them. However, although it was their exclusive dating spot, it was really just an ordinary lake, and they always sat on the grass there. It was fine during other seasons, but in spring and winter, when the air was heavy with moisture, sitting down would leave their pants soaked with water stains.

Tong Zhanyan had had the idea of building a gazebo six or seven years ago.

But back then, although food prices had dropped, supplies were still far from sufficient to feed everyone, so the base continued to farm nonstop.

On top of that, the group of graduates from his base—including Gu Yunyang—had all established their own bases that had grown to a certain scale by then. Problems kept piling up, and people would frequently seek his advice, so his idea remained just that—an idea.

Tong Zhanyan had considered hiring someone to fix it, but perhaps because he’d truly developed a sense of ownership over that place, he never went through with it. It wasn’t until recently, when the products had become widely available and people were genuinely starting to worry about whether they’d be able to sell them all, that he finally found the time.

As he approached, Tong Zhanyan stopped the car but didn’t rush to get out; instead, he pulled the sketch he’d made earlier from his pocket and began studying it.

He’d repaired chicken coops and erected plastic sheds before, but those were just small-scale projects. This was the first time in his life he’d built a real structure covering over ten square meters—and one built on water, no less.

However, there was plenty of building material at the base, and he had plenty of time on his hands, so he wasn’t in a rush.

His only regret was that he’d originally planned to surprise Qing Jiyue when he returned, but now that surprise was off the table.

Tong Zhanyan added a few columns to the pavilion and reinforced the corners; for the main structure, he also streamlined the materials slightly to reduce weight.

Once he was done, Tong Zhanyan carefully inspected the structure to ensure there were no issues, and only then did he begin calculating the length and width of the materials for each section.

It wasn’t a difficult task, but it was quite tedious.

When Tong Zhanyan looked up after finishing, it was already past two o’clock, and his stomach had been growling for quite some time. He hurried back to the small house to grab a bite to eat, then headed back to the back gate.

He continued his calculations in the cafeteria, waiting for Qing Jiyue to return. He had taken a morning flight and would arrive at the base that night.

Tong Zhanyan had been so engrossed in the calculations that when he finally looked up, Qing Jiyue was already sitting across from him.

This time, Qing Jiyue and the others had been exposed to the sun for so long that while their skin had darkened, their complexions had turned pale. Seeing this, Tong Zhanyan felt a pang of sympathy.

Every time Qing Jiyue returned, it took him a long time to restore his complexion to its normal state.

“You’re back.” Tong Zhanyan paused for a moment, then greeted him with a smile.

“Mm…” Qing Jiyue took the blueprints from Tong Zhanyan’s hands and studied them intently, as if he truly understood them. In the more than ten years they’d lived together, Tong Zhanyan had never seen Qing Jiyue display such insight in this area.

“We can add two more columns here and reinforce this section—it’ll be more stable that way.” Qing Jiyue pointed to two spots on the blueprint as he handed it back to Tong Zhanyan.

Tong Zhanyan looked at the marked spots, and after taking a closer look, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow—Qing Jiyue really did have a knack for this sort of thing.

Tong Zhanyan picked up a pen and began to sketch.

Watching Tong Zhanyan’s focused expression, Qing Jiyue silently decided to hide the basic architecture textbook he’d bought especially for him before returning.

After all, they had plenty of time ahead of them; at worst, he’d just have to help Tong Zhanyan try a few more times. As long as Tong Zhanyan was happy, that was all that mattered.

After finishing the drawing, Tong Zhanyan glanced at it and put the blueprints away. “Let’s go home,” he said. Qing Jiyue stood up.

Both of them lived in Qing Jiyue’s dorm building and the small house out back.

Tong Zhanyan had considered moving directly into the small house out front, but since they sometimes came to the back cafeteria to eat when they didn’t feel like cooking, having a dorm room in the back was simply more convenient.

An infection rate exceeding 20% is already a thing of the past. Even the concept of an infection rate itself has become a thing of the past.

As early as five years ago, Tong Zhanyan’s base had already achieved a 0% infection rate—the best result.

As more and more products flooded the market, they had long since stopped conducting individual tests and issuing separate certificates, instead randomly sampling a few plants.

The distributor in question was in trouble; later, after asking a colleague to conduct a test, they found that the product was still undetectable, and only then did they realize there was a problem.

Upon receiving the news, Tong Zhanyan immediately picked some cherry tomatoes from the field; after confirming that no infection rate could indeed be detected, he had Qing Jiyue send them directly to the research institute.

Research into a cure for the “frenzy” condition had continued ever since, and several promising prototypes had emerged during that time. However, as long as the affected individuals continued to consume the product, the “frenzy” would not recur, so the research institute gradually shifted its focus to other areas.

A day later, the test results came back.

The seeds from the cherry tomato sent for testing matched the original seeds with an astonishing 100 percent accuracy.

As soon as this identification result was announced, the entire base, the entire livestream, and indeed everyone within the protective shield erupted in excitement. 

For more than two months afterward, everyone was talking about this.

Tong Zhanyan was also thrilled, as he had been in an extremely dire situation at the time.

The infection rate among objects had dropped, especially within his base—at that time, the infection rate for the vast majority of objects there was already below 5%. 

This led to a problem: the most effective way to suppress frenzy was through creatures with a declining infection rate. With the infection rate stuck at 5%, that meant the effectiveness had, to some extent, actually decreased.

At that time, he was seriously considering the possibility of intentionally infecting the entities and starting over from scratch. While an infection rate dropping to zero was within his expectations, anticipating it and actually achieving it were two entirely different matters.

Once the infection rate dropped to zero, Qing Jiyue’s team immediately conducted a round of trials—after all, the effectiveness of the treatment could only be confirmed through testing.

The test results came out two months later: it was effective—and far more effective than products containing the virus. As soon as the news broke, the internet immediately erupted with excitement.

After that, everyone became eager to buy products with a zero infection rate. Every time Tong Zhanyan’s base shipped out a batch of products, a crowd would immediately line up to scramble for the products.

If Tong Zhanyan hadn’t insisted on keeping prices stable at the time—and even cracked down on those who raised prices under the table—the price of the product might have soared back to several hundred per gram.

That situation lasted for nearly a year. A year later, thanks to Tong Zhanyan’s efforts, the substance with a zero infection rate became a common sight on the streets.

The frenzy of the crowd finally subsided.

Just as Tong Zhanyan had predicted, the ecosystem he had established played an immense role in this matter.

Like dominoes, the “zero-infection” plants purified everything around them—the water, soil, other plants, and livestock—cleansing their surroundings in their own way.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t sure where the infection rate had first dropped to zero, nor did he have any way to trace it. By the time he noticed, the infection rate among the beneficial plants on those initial more than 1,000 mu of land had already dropped to zero.

During that year, Tong Zhanyan hadn’t actually done anything special; he simply maintained the same intensive cultivation, and the plants purified themselves. After the “zero infection rate” incident, Gu Yunyang and his group even arranged a visit to tour the site and learn from it.

Tong Zhanyan held nothing back from them, but that didn’t mean they could simply replicate what he had achieved.

After running their own base, they gained a clearer understanding of the challenges involved, so when they returned, the group—who had long since established their own base—…appeared just as they had back then.

Old Xu and Old Wang, of course, returned as well.

After staying at the base for a little over a week, the group asked him for some soil from the base as they were about to leave, intending to take it back as a memento and a talisman.

This base held special significance for them as well. Tong Zhanyan agreed.

By the time he noticed, the patch of land he’d designated had already been dug out to form a depression several square meters in size. Tong Zhanyan still finds himself smiling whenever he thinks back on it.

After a good night’s sleep, Tong Zhanyan headed to the lake early the next morning. This time, he brought Qing Jiyue along.

With Qing Jiyue by his side, things suddenly became much simpler—especially the previously time-consuming and labor-intensive task of transporting materials, which became a breeze.

In just one day, the two of them had all the necessary materials ready.

That night, just before going to bed, Tong Zhanyan noticed that Old Xu had replied to him.

The two hadn’t discussed the matter with their families before coming to see him; only after receiving his consent did they inform their families.

Both of them were already in their seventies or eighties, and the hard work of the past year had left them with numerous minor health issues. The idea of suddenly returning to the base—which, to make matters worse, was quite far from their homes—naturally met with resistance from both families.

The two acted as each other’s advocates, using one another as reasons to persuade their respective families. After several days of back-and-forth, both families finally relented.

Only then did they begin packing and buying tickets. They’ll arrive tomorrow.

So, the two transferred money to Tong Zhanyan, intending to pay for a farmstay.

Tong Zhanyan, of course, wouldn’t accept it. After refunding the money, he preempted them before they could even speak.

If they came, they could help manage the base; he wouldn’t pay them a salary, but their room and board would be covered. Ten years had passed, and Ning Langdong, Tian Xinqing, and Su Yanran were no longer the people they once were.

Nowadays, they were essentially the ones running the base, which was why Tong Zhanyan had the leisure to tinker with the pavilion. Even if Old Xu and Old Wang came, there probably wouldn’t be anything for them to do even if they wanted to help.

Since Tong Zhanyan had put it that way, Xu and Wang didn’t say anything more.

After the conversation ended, Tong Zhanyan rolled over and told Qing Jiyue what had happened.

“I’ve already had two rooms on the first floor of the dormitory building in the back prepared, so they won’t have to go up and down the stairs. I’ve also notified the others.”

“That’s great,” Qing Jiyue said.

“Why don’t we bring Grandpa over too? That way he’ll have some company,” Tong Zhanyan suggested. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Tong Zhanyan closed his eyes. “Good night, then.” 

“Tong Zhanyan,” Qing Jiyue’s voice came again. “Hmm?”

“When it’s us that old—I want to still be together too,” Qing Jiyue said. Tong Zhanyan looked up.

In the darkness, Qing Jiyue lay on his side, looking at him. “When you can’t walk anymore, I’ll carry you on my back.” Tong Zhanyan lay on his side facing his, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll see who ends up unable to walk.” 

“I’m in great shape,” Qing Jiyue said confidently.

He trained year-round, whereas Tong Zhanyan had only stuck to running laps every day for the first half-year after returning from field training; once the base began expanding and he got too busy, he gave it up.

“That’s not necessarily true. Your training just makes you good at fighting, but I’m busy with this and that every day—every muscle in my body gets a thorough workout.”

Qing Jiyue remained silent, appearing to let Tong Zhanyan have his way rather than argue with him.

Tong Zhanyan rolled over and pinned him down. “Don’t you know how fit I am?” Qing Jiyue’s breath caught slightly. “Stop messing around.”

“Looks like you’ve forgotten after just two months.” Tong Zhanyan had no intention of stopping. “It’s okay—I can help you remember.”

With that, Tong Zhanyan leaned down and kissed him.

After more than two months apart, Qing Jiyue’s words of refusal clashed with his body’s honest tremor the moment their skin touched. “Mm, Tong Zhanyan…”

They spent a sleepless night.

The next day, the sun was already high in the sky when the two of them came downstairs.

Work in the fields had long since begun, and only a few people remained in the cafeteria to clean up. The two of them ate a light meal of leftover buns and steamed bread, then headed to the lakeside. The materials had been prepared the day before, so they could officially begin construction today.

Before that, they had to pull out the piles Tong Zhanyan had driven into the lake earlier. With Qing Jiyue there, it was a matter of minutes.

Driving the new piles would be just as quick.

Watching Qing Jiyue wrap up in half an hour what had taken him a whole week to complete, Tong Zhanyan felt a pang of unease. He didn’t call a halt, though—after all, if it really took another month or so, Qing Jiyue might be able to handle it, but he certainly couldn’t.

After the posts were driven into the ground, the two took a boat out to inspect them, confirming that the depth and positioning were correct before moving on to the next step. With Qing Jiyue there, the work was much simpler, but there was still just as much to do. They worked straight through until noon before the wooden posts were finally connected. In the afternoon, the two finished the remaining tasks, then returned to their dormitory to shower and change clothes.

As they were coming downstairs, Old Xu and Old Wang happened to be at the back gate.

Over the past decade, Old Wang and Old Xu had frequently hosted students from the academy who came to visit, help out, or do internships, so they saw each other every now and then and were no strangers to one another.

But that was back when the two of them were still at Sidi Military Academy.

Nearly two months had passed since then.

After two months apart, both men had visibly aged.

The moment he saw them, Tong Zhanyan felt a pang of sadness in his heart.

He was actually quite afraid of goodbyes; the thing he’d feared in the hallucinations he’d experienced during field training was leaving his loved ones behind.

Tong Zhanyan had already arranged their accommodations, and the two were no strangers to the base. After Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue had put their belongings inside, they left, leaving them to settle in on their own.

As they were leaving, Qing Jiyue took the opportunity to contact Qing Suifeng and ask about his grandfather.

Since the old man’s health was even worse than Old Xu and Old Wang’s, he really wasn’t suited to stay in a place like the front lines; Qing Suifeng readily agreed.

After contacting Qing Suifeng, Qing Jiyue immediately reached out to his grandfather—after all, he needed to hear what he had to say. Upon learning that Old Xu and Wang were also present, Qing Zhenhai agreed readily.

Qing Jiyue immediately contacted Qing Suifeng again to make the arrangements. While Qing Jiyue was busy, the people from Ning Langdong’s team arrived.

They had all shed their former youthful naivety and now looked capable and efficient.

The base now spans over two thousand mu, and with the increasing responsibilities in their respective areas, they rarely gather together anymore.

This time, they had come for their own respective business.

Ning Langdong had come because of matters concerning the vineyard.

Due to the unique structure of the grapevines, mechanical harvesting isn’t possible, so the work is currently done by hand.

With the grapes about to ripen, Ning Langdong wanted to make arrangements in advance to avoid overlapping with the harvest of other crops. In addition, there were some matters to attend to at the winery.

“They still want to use our farm’s label and have been bringing this up with me repeatedly,” Ning Langdong said.

“My stance remains the same: if they want to use our farm’s label, they must use grapes from our farm. If they can’t do that, it’s out of the question,” Tong Zhanyan said firmly, resolute.

“Alright,” Ning Langdong replied noncommittally; he’d only asked as a matter of routine.

The value associated with the name “Tong Zhanyan” hadn’t diminished over the past decade; if anything, it had grown even stronger. If a product bore a label associated with him, it was a guarantee of sales.

Over the past decade, Tong Zhanyan has taught people not only how to grow crops but also how to eat them, which has led to the production of countless agricultural byproducts. As a result, countless companies have approached him about partnerships, but Tong Zhanyan’s side has remained adamant in turning them down.

Tong Zhanyan looked at Tian Xinqing.

“The water circulation system in the river here at the farm broke down last night,” Tian Xinqing said with a helpless expression.

Hearing this, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but grimace in exasperation.

He had been running this base for fourteen years now, and since the base had already been in operation for over a decade before that, various pieces of infrastructure were starting to wear out—especially the equipment that was used most frequently.

He’d already replaced the overhead lights five times. The rainwater system had also been replaced once.

The irrigation system and streetlights had also been overhauled once as the base expanded.

The river water recirculation system had started malfunctioning a few years ago—at first once every six months, then once a month, and recently it had reached the point of failing twice a month.

Tong Zhanyan sighed. “If nothing else works, we’ll just have to replace it.” 

“Should I contact the R&D team directly?”

“Mm-hmm,” Tong Zhanyan nodded.

The river is now teeming with all kinds of fish, shrimp, plants, and rocks—a new system he specifically had the R&D team develop during the base expansion. It’s likely because of all the debris in the water that the river’s circulation system at the base keeps malfunctioning so frequently.

After Tian Xinqing spoke, Su Yanran said directly, “There still aren’t enough air purifiers over in the breeding area. As soon as it gets hot, you can smell the odor even from a distance.” “Then let’s add more,” Tong Zhanyan said. 

“Remember to run the power from the new base area—don’t use the base’s power supply.”

That was another issue.

After the base was expanded, Tong Zhanyan swapped the locations of the breeding area and the septic tank, moving them to the upper-left corner far from the residential area, and also equipped them with various deodorizing and purification devices.

The breeding area, capable of supporting over 2,000 mu of land, was also much larger than before, so odor had remained a persistent problem over the past few years. Fortunately, everything was now mechanized, so it wasn’t necessary to have someone on duty around the clock like before.

“Alright,” Su Yanran nodded.

After reporting on the issues at hand, they didn’t leave but instead turned their attention to Qing Jiyue. It had been a long time since they’d last seen him.

Qing Jiyue wasn’t quite finished yet.

“Isn’t that pavilion of yours fixed yet?” Ning Langdong asked. “We tore down the old one,” Tong Zhanyan replied with a wry smile.

Ning Langdong was speechless.

“I’m rebuilding it now, together with Qing Jiyue,” Tong Zhanyan said.

Just then, Qing Jiyue finished his work. The old master would be arriving in a few days.

That night, the two went to bed early.

The next day, after breakfast, they went down to the riverbank.

Ning Langdong, Old Xu, and Old Wang—the others showed up a little later to check out the commotion.

After mentioning Tong Zhanyan’s previous failure, the group began offering their two cents, each chiming in with their own opinions. Tong Zhanyan’s new pavilion didn’t look all that reliable either.

Tong Zhanyan grew annoyed by their chatter and simply shooed them all away.

A week later, when the pavilion’s foundation and walls were nearly complete, the Old Master finally arrived at the base, personally escorted by Qing Suifeng. He had visibly aged since they’d last seen him, but he seemed in good spirits.

By the time Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue had finished tidying up his room and came out, he was already chatting with Old Xu and Wang.

They hadn’t actually interacted much before, but thanks to the relationship between the Qing Family and the Planting Alliance, they weren’t complete strangers. Plus, since they were around the same age, they had plenty to talk about.

Seeing this, Tong Zhanyan went back to the small building, fetched a set of fishing gear, and gave one set to each of them.

As for the fishing rods and hooks, he later had the R&D team produce finished products for him; once they arrived, they became the most popular pastime in the entire base.

Old Xu and Old Wang were particularly enthusiastic about them.

When they heard the gear was meant for them, their faces immediately lit up with smiles. Qing Suifeng stood nearby, staring intently—he liked it too. Tong Zhanyan pretended not to notice.

Mainly, he felt that Qing Suifeng was still young—at an age when one should be daring and ambitious—and that fishing, a pastime that could lead to a waste of one’s potential, was something best considered only when he was truly too old to do anything else.

Qing Jiyue saw right through him, his eyes filled with resignation, but he didn’t say anything.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t just change one person—he changed their entire world.

It was also because the situation on the front lines was no longer tense—and even the divisions within the inner city were gradually ceasing to matter to anyone—that he could take it upon himself to slack off with a clear conscience. After making arrangements for the old man, Tong Zhanyan returned to the lakeside the very next day.

The most difficult part was already done, so the remaining roof didn’t take much time. A day later, a brand-new pavilion was complete.

As soon as it was finished, Tong Zhanyan was the first to try it out.

The main pillars and foundation were made of wood, while the walls and roof were made of bamboo. Although it still looked a bit rough up close, surrounded by green water and reflected against the reeds and water plants, it had a unique charm.

Most importantly, unlike the previous structure—which creaked with every step and wobbled unsteadily—this pavilion was remarkably sturdy. Tong Zhanyan was quite satisfied. 

Finally, he took Qing Jiyue back into the mountains to cut some wood and bamboo, intending to strike while the iron was hot and make tables and chairs.

These two items were much simpler.

Mainly because Tong Zhanyan had gained a deep understanding of his own skills, he lowered his standards, making the process much simpler. The stools were simple, small wooden stools, while the table was a large wooden bench.

Once finished, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t wait to move them into the pavilion the very next day.

It was summer at the retreat, and the lake provided a refreshing breeze, so Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue stayed there until the sun went down. Not content with just spending time there on their own, the next day Tong Zhanyan invited Old Xu, Old Wang, Old Man Qing, and Ning Langdong to join them.

They brought along watermelon to beat the heat, tea, snacks, barbecue gear, and fishing tackle. During the day, they chatted and fished, and once night fell, they started grilling right on the lakeshore.

This wasn’t the first time they’d had a little get-together like this over the past decade; sometimes Yang Hong and Wang Yanzhou would join them, and sometimes there were even fewer people. After so many gatherings, the group had long since dropped the initial formalities and simply did whatever felt comfortable.

After Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue had finished eating, they curled up in the pavilion to exchange a few whispered words.

Ning Langdong and the others didn’t want to be the third wheel, so while munching on grilled fish, they discussed going out for another round of fishing on the boat later. Night fishing has its own unique charm.

While Tong Zhanyan and his group were having a great time, the viewers in the livestream were grinding their teeth in frustration.

“Damn it, I just got back from overtime, and this is what I have to watch?”

“Aaaah, I really want to stay at the base a little longer.”

“I’ve already done this ten times, but it always feels so short—like it’s never enough.”

“Ten times? Now it’s my turn to grumble. We can’t even take time off during the week, and on holidays, we can never get a reservation at the farmhouse resort.”

“That’s great—at least someone else is living the good life for us.” 

“Hahaha…”

……

The night breeze swept by, bringing a coolness unlike the sweltering summer heat, and Tong Zhanyan took a deep breath.

Feeling the flow of the river and the passage of time, he stretched comfortably.

Days like this are truly wonderful.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Thank you, dear readers, for accompanying us in this story.