As if responding to his thoughts, over the next week, the tomatoes grew as if by magic, changing visibly day by day.

On Saturday, they were finger-sized; by Monday, when Tong Zhanyan returned, the largest were already thumb-sized.

By Wednesday, most of the tomato vines were bent double under their weight.

Tong Zhanyan had come prepared, even bringing ropes in advance, but seeing them like this still made the corners of his mouth curl upward.

The viewers in the livestream chat couldn’t suppress their smiles either.

They weren’t strangers to seeing crops bloom and bear fruit. Cherry tomatoes, being widely available seeds, were a common sight.

Yet no livestream, not even the million-follower popular ones, had ever shown such a bountiful harvest as Tong Zhanyan’s.

Others searched for fruit amidst a sea of leaves.

Tong Zhanyan kept a few flower branches per tomato plant, but each branch bore so many perfectly developed fruits that viewers found themselves searching for leaves amidst clusters of tomatoes.

The sight made their blood boil, making them want to run laps downstairs.

At the Planting Alliance.

After emptying the last drop from the sprinkler, Gu Yunyang gazed anxiously at the tender sprouts just peeking through the soil.

He had sown fifteen days prior, yet just like last time, it took a full ten days for them to sprout.

Tong Zhanyan had done it in under five days.

Five days had passed since sprouting.

Tong Zhanyan’s tomatoes had already developed their first true leaves at this stage, but his tallest seedlings barely reached two centimeters. True leaves were out of the question—even the cotyledons weren’t uniformly developed.

Gu Yunyang sighed, turned to put away the sprinkler, and opened Tong Zhanyan’s livestream again.

He had seen the fruits in Tong Zhanyan’s livestream, and it had even stirred a hint of envy within him.

Yet despite this, he couldn’t resist the urge to watch. Such a level of bounty was truly uncommon. Even Old Xu—

Startled by his own thoughts, Gu Yunyang shook his head vigorously, banishing that absurd notion from his mind.

Master Xu was an absolute authority in cultivation. Comparing him to Tong Zhanyan was simply incomparable.

“…Gu… Gu?” Tang Xin slapped Gu Yunyang’s shoulder.

Startled, Gu Yunyang nearly dropped the terminal he was holding.

Turning around, he noticed two people had appeared in the cultivation room without him realizing it—Shen Ye and Tang Xin.

“Why didn’t you knock?”

“We did. You just didn’t respond,” Tang Xin replied.

Gu Yunyang was speechless.

“Let’s go. It’s about to start,” Shen Ye urged.

Tang Xin hurried toward the door.

Gu Yunyang was baffled. “What’s starting soon?”

The two moving figures stopped and turned back.

“Master Xu’s open lecture?”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Gu Yunyang froze. “Master Xu has an open lecture today?”

Shen Ye and Tang Xin exchanged glances, unease evident in both their eyes. Ever since the last batch of tomato seedlings failed, Gu Yunyang had seemed distracted.

“Brother Gu, you…” Tang Xin hesitated, words failing her.

Seeing their concern, Gu Yunyang felt both amused and exasperated. Yet a deep weariness washed over him, dampening his desire to discuss it. “Where is it?”

With that, he led the way out the door.

“Main Hall.”

Stepping outside, the three hurried along.

Master Xu was the crown jewel of their Second Alliance and a top authority in cultivation. No one would want to miss his public lecture.

By the time they arrived, the large banquet hall—capable of seating several hundred—was already packed.

Up front, on the temporary podium, Elder Xu had already taken the microphone.

The three hurried to find seats.

“I won’t waste time on preliminaries. Today’s lecture focuses on Blossom Rot Disease…” Elder Xu, ever the pragmatist, dove straight into the subject.

Because of this, the previously noisy hall instantly fell silent. Everyone feared missing a single word.

Hearing the words “Blossom Rot Disease,” Gu Yunyang felt a wave of dizziness. He suddenly recalled Tong Zhanyan’s tomatoes.

Seeing Tong Zhanyan pinch those tomatoes until they were completely bare had filled him with rage. But after that anger burned out, he immediately remembered something: Tong Zhanyan’s previous batch of tomatoes had been in the same state.

He had previously wondered what kind of accident could cause such damage.

Now the answer was clear.

It also reminded him of the fallen flowers in the pot during Tong Zhanyan’s first livestream he had seen. That was definitely Flower Fall Disease; he was certain of it.

But Tong Zhanyan’s Flower Fall Disease only caused a few flowers to drop before abruptly stopping.

This time, Tong Zhanyan’s tomatoes were clearly in full bloom, yet not a single blossom had fallen.

Both times, Tong Zhanyan had pinched off the leaves.

Was this the reason?

“Next is the Q&A session.” Professor Xu sat down and took a sip of water; his throat was hoarse after an hour of speaking.

Hundreds of hands shot up simultaneously.

Professor Xu randomly selected one.

“Recently, a company called Yanjia released a wonder drug for blossom rot. Have you heard of it? They say it’s remarkably effective.”

“I bought it. It’s still in the experimental phase. As for the others, we’ll wait for the results before deciding.” Professor Xu spoke while immediately calling on the next person.

“Regarding whether blossom-drop disease is contagious…”

“Blossom-drop itself isn’t directly contagious. However, if even one plant in a batch grown under identical conditions develops the disease, virtually none of the others will survive unscathed.”

Gu Yunyang raised his hand.

Old Xu spotted him immediately. “Gu Yunyang.”

Gu Yunyang took a deep breath. “Do you think pinching off some flower buds, leaves, and branches before flowering could potentially suppress Blossom Rot?”

The hall fell deathly silent.

Then, a wave of laughter erupted.

“What is this? Killing them off because they know they’re going to die anyway?”

“Who is he? How did someone like that get in here?”

“A former student of Old Xu’s.”

“Shh, keep quiet.”

“The one whose tomato crop died from blossom rot?”

“He’s lost his mind, hasn’t he?”

Amid the clamor, Gu Yunyang’s face flushed crimson. He knew his suggestion sounded absurd, yet he stubbornly fixed his gaze on Old Xu at the front.

Master Xu visibly paused. “Bold experimentation is commendable.”

Master Xu’s words were deliberately subtle, yet his meaning was unmistakable.

Gu Yunyang opened his mouth to insist he’d personally witnessed someone successfully grow tomatoes this way, but before he could speak, Shen Ye and Tang Xin rushed over to cover his mouth.

“Come find me later,” Old Xu said, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes.

Amidst laughter and murmurs, the questioning continued.

Gu Yunyang struggled twice to push the two beside him away, but couldn’t, so he gave up.

“You…” Shen Ye’s eyes were filled with worry.

Due to the frenzy, all resources now flowed toward their planting alliance. They demanded the stars, and others would never give them the moon.

Ten years ago, the alliance unanimously suspected the soil in their current region might be problematic. The four major families jointly dispatched over ten thousand people to forcibly retrieve soil samples from thousands of kilometers away.

That endeavor alone took three years just to plan, with over seven thousand lives lost along the way.

Yet in the end, they produced absolutely no results.

The pressure on everyone in the Alliance was immense.

Gu Yunyang had only finally secured his personal cultivation chamber this year. Now, his first batch of tomatoes had nearly been wiped out. Feeling the pressure was only natural.

After the public lecture finally ended, Gu Yunyang stood to leave. Shen Ye swiftly grabbed his arm.

Shen Ye’s eyes held unwavering resolve. “I’m going with you.”

“Where?”

“To see a doctor.”

Gu Yunyang choked.

Shen Ye exchanged a knowing glance with Tang Xin beside him. The latter stepped forward to grab Gu Yunyang, determined to drag him along today even if it meant forcing him.

“…I’ll share a livestream link with you guys. Take a look.” Gu Yunyang finally managed to say after a long pause.

He opened his terminal to operate it.

“A livestream?”

Seeing Gu Yunyang showed no intention of escaping, Tang Xin opened the terminal to take a look. “A farming livestream? …How come it only has this many followers?”

With the tomatoes bearing fruit, Tong Zhanyan’s livestream, which had originally only had over seventy thousand followers, now boasted a hundred thousand. But they didn’t even glance at the popular livestreams with millions of followers, let alone his meager numbers?

“You’ll see in a few days,” Gu Yunyang offered, offering no further explanation.

With just Tong Zhanyan’s tomatoes, if managed well, reaching half a million followers was a certainty, let alone a million.

Yet Tong Zhanyan showed absolutely no interest in managing it. Coupled with the two previous “persecution” incidents, maintaining even 100,000 followers was, in a way, quite remarkable.

“Huh, these fruits…” Tang Xin exclaimed in surprise.

Shen Ye shot a skeptical glance at Gu Yunyang before opening her terminal.

At the Training Room.

After carefully avoiding the fruits and hanging the tomatoes on the lamp stand with ropes, Tong Zhanyan estimated the timing and, as usual, posted an announcement in advance.

Harvest: Saturday night, two days from now, at 7:00 PM sharp.

The livestream audience, buzzing precisely because of Tong Zhanyan’s “neck-hanging” support frame, froze upon seeing the sudden announcement. For most of them, this was the first time Tong Zhanyan had ever “communicated” with them.

Though this communication was concise—less than ten words.

The next moment, the livestream exploded with even more activity.

Some debated, some tried to chat with Tong Zhanyan, others asked if he was selling the tomatoes, and the bolder ones even directly inquired about potential giveaways.

This batch of fruit definitely weighed fifteen pounds, and with luck, it might even reach twenty.

Twenty tomatoes, twenty pounds of fruit—few would believe such yields if they heard about it.

It made them all a bit envious.

Behind the screen, Yang Hong silently set his alarm.

As he glanced at the stream of comments scrolling across the screen, his eyes filled with a touch of pity.

These people had no clue what kind of person Tong Zhanyan was. Few would actually wait until seven o’clock sharp. And given Tong Zhanyan’s picking speed…

By the time they returned, the golden flowers would have gone cold.

Picturing that scene, Yang Hong hesitated—should he give them a heads-up?

After a moment’s hesitation, Yang Hong opened the comment section.

After all, they’d endured the frustration together.

Several users had already posted reminders—more than one, in fact.

Yang Hong scanned the names: Cat Who Loves Fish, Midsummer Madness So Cool, Craving Hot Pot…

Familiar faces, as expected.

The next moment, Yang Hong let out a huge sigh of relief.

They cursed, they unfollowed, yet here they were, shamelessly coming back…

Once was forgivable. Doing it twice? Even knowing few recognized him, his face still burned crimson.

Seeing everyone else like this now, the awkwardness eased a bit.

But seeing them now, Yang Hong couldn’t help but recall what had happened before.

This time, he managed to hold out for a full two weeks after unfollowing.

After two weeks, he finally couldn’t resist and came back to take a look.

He truly felt heartbroken for those little tomatoes. The thought of them growing so well only to encounter that madman Tong Zhanyan made his heart ache so much he could barely breathe.

Then, upon checking, he nearly choked on his breath.

When he unfollowed, those little tomato plants hadn’t even developed their side shoots yet, and every single flower bud had been pinched off.

Now, not only were the plants still alive, but the fruits were already as big as fingers.

And it wasn’t just one or two—the entire branch was covered.

In fact, the weight of the fruit was starting to bend the main stems.

He felt completely sick at the sight.

This was just not right.

Taking a deep breath to suppress the boiling emotions rising again, Yang Hong forced himself to focus on the comment section.

He thought they should start a group chat—a support group for victims.

Saturday night.

Tong Zhanyan timed his arrival at the training room perfectly.

Before leaving, he grabbed his backpack, planning to hit the streets after his session.

He’d already decided on the greenhouse—the one with the lighting rig on the roof. He intended to pay the deposit as soon as he sold the tomatoes.

Field planting wasn’t like container gardening. For the next batch, he planned to grow more, and setting up makeshift frames and lights like he was doing now simply wouldn’t work.

As for the deposit, this world didn’t have plant grow lights. He also didn’t know the exact bulb socket size for those light stands. Whether compatible bulbs he could use were even available on the market was another question. Without advance preparation, just sorting these details would likely take half a month.

With only three months left, he simply couldn’t afford to waste any time.

At 6:55, Tong Zhanyan rinsed and dried his scissors before heading to the corner where cardboard boxes were stacked. He selected a medium-sized one.

With preparations complete, Tong Zhanyan glanced at the time again, confirming it was fifty-nine minutes past. He carried the scissors and box toward the tomatoes.

In the livestream room, the audience waiting before their screens had already noticed the cardboard box in his hands, sparking a flurry of excitement on the screen.

“No way, a cardboard box?”

“And a used one at that?”

“Won’t they get crushed?”

“Those box edges are sharp—they’ll cut the fruit!”

“Please, at least use a better box…”

Just as everyone was growing uneasy, Tong Zhanyan crouched down, reached into his pocket, pulled out a plastic bag, gave it a sharp shake, pulled to fill it with air, then slipped it over the box.

Those who had been fretting about the tomatoes getting cut fell silent. Their problem was solved, but a plastic bag?

And probably one recycled for the umpteenth time?

Was Tong Zhanyan serious?

Before they could recover, the screen showed Tong Zhanyan’s hands reaching for the tomatoes in front of him, followed by a series of “snap, snap, snap” sounds.

The crowd, already stunned by the plastic bag, was instantly rendered speechless once more.

“Wait, is this how it starts? What about the planting recap? Where’s the harvest speech?“

”Aren’t you going to say anything, host?“

”Is this it?“

”Did I miss something?“

”Other times are one thing, but picking fruit this casually?”

The snapping sounds didn’t stop. In just moments, the bottom of the box beside him was completely filled with fruit.

The camera, which had been facing the opposite direction, now flew over to Tong Zhanyan’s side.

It didn’t quite understand what Tong Zhanyan was doing. It only knew that the bright red fruits on its little friend’s body were being taken away.

It lowered its head, as if trying to return them, but it had no hands.

The camera’s downward tilt gave the live stream viewers a close-up view of the berries.

Unlike when hanging on the branches, the picked berries appeared even rounder.

Gazing at them, the softest part of everyone’s heart seemed touched, making their entire bodies go limp—

Just as they were moved, a handful of berries was casually tossed into the box.

The fruits collided with each other, several even bouncing off.

The tenderness in their hearts instantly turned into murderous impulses. Could Tong Zhanyan not be gentler?

As if sensing their thoughts, the camera lifted its gaze. In that brief moment, Tong Zhanyan had already picked all the nearby tomatoes and was moving forward.

His back blocked most of the camera, yet his movements didn’t pause.

The group choked on their words again.

Not only did he skip the picking commentary, but Tong Zhanyan wouldn’t even let them watch?

What kind of trash streamer is this?

The livestream chat erupted instantly with anxious curses and complaints.

Tong Zhanyan walked away.

They didn’t want to see Tong Zhanyan—they wanted to see those tomatoes.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t block the camera for long. It wasn’t that he’d suddenly changed his tune and decided to engage them; it was simply that he’d already picked all the ripe tomatoes in front of him.

Ignored once more, the crowd’s curses grew even louder. Trash streamer.

But as they cursed, their mood gradually shifted toward emptiness and bewilderment.

Tong Zhanyan’s movements were too natural.

So natural it didn’t seem like he was deliberately tormenting them. So natural it seemed like this wasn’t something they needed to go crazy over. So natural it seemed like this was how things were always meant to be…

Was this how cultivation was supposed to be?

In that moment, the livestream room, which should have been bustling, abruptly fell silent. Everyone involuntarily recalled the reason they had become so fixated on the topic of cultivation.

Because of a hobby?

No. Most of them were here because of family, friends, loved ones—because of that damnable frenzy.

Even more so, they themselves were part of it.

Yang Hong immediately sensed the collective silence, knowing full well why.

It didn’t prompt any particular thoughts from him, for in that moment, he wanted to think of nothing, only to quietly watch the busy figure behind the screen.

This time, with more tomatoes, Tong Zhanyan didn’t wrap up in two minutes like last time. The clattering sound persisted for a long while, gradually making him want to cry.

His father had been a member of the City Guard, but before turning forty, he had plunged into Deep Frenzy.

Those who fell into Deep Frenzy couldn’t release themselves from the fusion state. They essentially remained in their monstrous forms permanently, granting them immense destructive power and making them extremely difficult to control.

Whenever this happened, others had to make a choice: abandon them, or send them to specialized containment facilities.

His mother chose to abandon him.

The containment facility was not cheap, and they were hardly well-off. Without his father’s support, adding such a high expense would make their lives unbearably difficult.

They had visited the facility before—it was nothing more than a series of massive iron cages placed on the ground, where the confined individuals ate, drank, relieved themselves, and lived entirely within them.

They could scarcely be called human.

They were treated worse than ordinary livestock.

So he didn’t resent his mother. He was even grateful, for he dared not imagine what the gentle man who once carried him on his shoulders would have become in such a place.

After that, he developed a deep interest in cultivation.

His ten-year journey into this world began right then.

Yang Hong took a deep breath and wiped his eyes with a tissue.

Ironically, a decade later, he found himself following the same path as his father.

He enlisted and was assigned to the Gu Family estate, where his father had once served. He stood at the same posts his father had guarded, and at the same age, he too developed symptoms of frenzy.

The only difference was that his father had only been forced to leave his post after reaching deep frenzy, while he was transferred to logistics immediately after his symptoms were discovered. Now, his biggest daily dilemma was deciding what to eat next and which livestream to watch while eating.

His mother still didn’t know about his condition.

He had no intention of telling her.

That woman, once so resilient in her youth, had grown fragile with age.

She had asked him more than once if she had made a mistake, if she shouldn’t have given up hope like that.

“Trash streamer.” Yang Hong crumpled the tissue he’d used to wipe his eyes and tossed it into the trash can, not forgetting to curse under his breath.

Sooner or later, Tong Zhanyan would push him over the edge.

Even though there were more tomatoes this time, it was only about four times as many. Picking them all took Tong Zhanyan no more than seven or eight minutes.

Finished, Tong Zhanyan glanced back, and his mood instantly lifted.

The yield was better than he’d expected—probably around seven or eight pounds—and this was only the first harvest.

After putting the shears back, Tong Zhanyan tied up the plastic bag and packed it along with the box into his backpack.

The tomatoes were too bulky for the small backpack, taking him a moment to fit them in.

He certainly didn’t mind this kind of happy problem.

The shop was quite busy on Saturday.

Tong Zhanyan was used to it by now and headed straight for the meeting room.

Mr. Bai had just seen off a group of customers and was tidying up when he paused upon seeing Tong enter. “You’re here.”

“What would you like today?” Fang Yiguang hurried over. Employees earned commissions on sales, and Tong Zhanyan was now one of his biggest customers.

Tong Zhanyan took off his backpack and opened it.

Seeing the cardboard box, then the familiar plastic bag inside, Fang Yiguang’s mouth twitched involuntarily. His eyebrows immediately arched. “Cherry tomatoes?”

He recalled Tong Zhanyan selling a batch of tomatoes just three months ago. Were they ripe already?

Fang Yiguang glanced at Mr. Bai, who was equally astonished.

Tomatoes typically ripen every three to five months, but most growers only get fruit in the latter half of the third month. Tong Zhanyan’s crop had barely reached three months.

His cherry radishes and bok choy had already been faster than others last time. Now this again—

Before their astonishment could fully register, their thoughts were interrupted. What interrupted themwase the tomatoes revealed as Tong Zhanyan set down the box and opened the bag.

Nearly every tomato was thumb-sized, its shape and color perfectly round and beautiful.

They weren’t unfamiliar with that quality, but they’d never seen anyone produce such a quantity in a single harvest.

“Is this the first harvest?” Mr. Bai couldn’t help asking. The first batch of harvests usually had better quality.

“Yes.” Tong Zhanyan sat down across from him with practiced ease.

Once seated, however, he felt a twinge of unease.

He had grown the produce, but now the question was: what was the infection rate?

Fruit and vegetable infection rates below 50% were still edible, but exceeding 50% meant the items would have little effect in suppressing frenzy, and their price would be significantly discounted.

Each planting increased the infection rate. While there was no upper limit to this increase, it typically rose by at least 3%.

His previous batch had infection rates ranging from a low of 44% to a high of 47%. The two plants he’d saved seeds from both registered 44%.

Calculating at 3%, this batch is borderline.

If it exceeds 50%—and it might—then his greenhouse…

Tong Zhanyan forced himself not to dwell on it. He’d done his best; now it was up to fate.

“I’ll go get the supplies,” Fang Yiguang hurried out.

This month, his sales were undoubtedly the highest in the entire store.

Mr. Bai took a deep breath, pulled the box toward him, slipped on gloves, and began examining it meticulously.

Fang Yiguang soon returned with three large pots and joined the sorting process.

Across the room, watching the two meticulously inspect each seedling, Tong Zhanyan grew restless.

His concern wasn’t about infection rates, but the pace—at this rate, they’d be busy for two or three hours.

Last time, it had only taken an hour, and his butt had already gone numb.

After sitting a while longer and seeing no sign of them speeding up, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but get up and start pacing around the shop.

He didn’t stick around.

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t quite say whether he liked or disliked Fang Yiguang, but he could sense a mercenary aura about him.

Mr. Bai, on the other hand, gave off a genuinely easygoing and warm vibe—not the type to cut corners for short-term gain. That was precisely why Tong Zhanyan stuck with this particular shop.

Though this street only had this one shop, other establishments were just a short walk away.

An hour later, the two finally finished their sorting.

Next came the appraisal.

Tong Zhanyan had steeled himself mentally, yet his palms still broke out in sweat when he saw Fang Yiguang carry two large trays of samples into the back processing room.

“Are these tomatoes from the seeds saved from the last batch?” Mr. Bai didn’t rush to settle accounts but instead struck up a casual conversation with Tong Zhanyan.

The infection rate directly affected the unit price, so he couldn’t quote arbitrarily before the results came in.

After his initial surprise, he realized Tong Zhanyan’s batch was most likely grown from seeds saved from the previous harvest, meaning the infection rate probably wouldn’t be low.

That was a bit disappointing, especially since the quality was so good.

“Mhm.” Tong Zhanyan was distracted.

Mr. Bai said nothing more, simply accompanying Tong Zhanyan in quiet anticipation.

Testing was far more troublesome than sorting. After a full two hours—by which time the streets were nearly deserted, and most shops had closed—Fang Yiguang finally emerged.

“How did it go?” Tong Zhanyan asked immediately.

Fang Yiguang’s expression was oddly unsettled.

Tong Zhanyan’s heart sank instantly. His palms, already burning with nervousness, turned icy cold.

Should he consider that greenhouse, barely a hundred square meters?

The soil in that greenhouse looked filthy, and the infection rate was anyone’s guess…

“Most are between 43% and 44%,” Fang Yiguang said, his expression growing even stranger. “Did you save the seeds for this batch from the previous tomatoes?”

He distinctly remembered Tong Zhanyan’s previous tomatoes having a minimum infection rate of 44%.

Tong Zhanyan’s infection rates were decreasing with each planting?

How could that be?

Ever since restarting the seed bank, every crop had shown increasing infection rates with each planting cycle. This had even forced the re-sealing of several seeds that had already been opened, as their reserves dwindled to near depletion.

If Tong Zhanyan truly possessed the ability to lower infection rates with each planting, the Planting Alliance and the Four Great Families would likely surround their entire area tonight.

Tong Zhanyan’s heart, which had already plummeted to rock bottom, suddenly froze, his breath catching in his throat.

Then, blood rushed back to his heart, and his brain began to work.

He exhaled a long breath. “Thank goodness. Thank goodness.”

Fang Yiguang and Mr. Bai both looked at him with complex and astonished expressions.

Tong Zhanyan explained, “I specifically saved the best seed for propagation. When I bought it, they said the infection rate was only around thirty percent.”

Fang Yiguang froze for a moment before exhaling. He had to admit it.

Boss Bai also froze, then immediately relaxed.

Tong Zhanyan’s reasoning was indeed convincing.

Recovering his composure, Fang Yiguang asked, “Then why were you so tense just now?”

“Weren’t you staring at me strangely?” Tong Zhanyan looked utterly innocent.

Fang Yiguang was speechless. He had indeed been startled by Tong Zhanyan earlier.

As the tense atmosphere dissipated, Mr. Bai hurried off to settle the accounts.

In just a few moments, more and more shops on the street closed their doors. The employees here also left one after another as their shift ended.

A few minutes later, the final tally was ready.

“Total weight: 3724 grams. The quality of this batch is quite good. I’ll give you a unit price of 260…” Mr. Bai said, “Total: just over one million and two hundred thousand.”

Tong Zhanyan had already estimated nearly eight jin and had a rough idea of the total price, but hearing the words “one million and two hundred thousand” still made his heart skip a beat.

One million—he hadn’t seen that much money in his entire life, let alone in his previous one. And to think it came from selling a few jin of tomatoes.

Taking a deep breath, Tong Zhanyan waved his hand decisively. “Go ahead and secure the greenhouse I mentioned earlier. I want the one with the overhead lighting frame.”

Mr. Bai nodded. “Shall I schedule someone to come tomorrow? Morning or afternoon?”

The moment his hand fell, Tong Zhanyan’s demeanor shifted. “Could you talk to him about lowering the price a bit more?”

Mr. Bai froze, while Fang Yiguang beside him burst out laughing at this sudden shift in attitude.

Regaining his composure, Mr. Bai smiled. “I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you for your help,” Tong Zhanyan said, then solemnly made a grand promise. “Once I have the greenhouse, everything I grow will be sold to you. We’ll have a long-term partnership.”

This time, Mr. Bai couldn’t hold back his laughter either.

When Tong Zhanyan stepped outside, only two or three shops remained open on the street.

If the street was this quiet, the roads beyond were utterly deserted.

This was the first time Tong Zhanyan had walked this street so late. Carrying over a million yuan in his terminal made him feel a bit on edge.

“Tong Zhanyan.”

As he crossed a dimly lit alleyway without streetlights, Tong Zhanyan was about to pick up his pace when a voice called out from behind.

Startled, Tong Zhanyan whipped his head around.

Ning Langdong.

Tong Zhanyan exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

With his meager combat strength in this world, he might not even stand a chance against elementary school kids. At least their spirit beasts were somewhat formidable—his own spirit beast…

Better not to mention it.

“Just got off work?” Tong Zhanyan walked alongside him.

With the company now, his nerves eased.

“Yeah.” Ning Langdong eyed Tong Zhanyan suspiciously. “What are you doing here so late?”

Ning Langdong often returned at this hour and showed no reaction to the night walk.

“Just went out…”

They chatted sporadically until they reached the dormitory building.

Lights-out had passed nearly two hours ago, and the dormitory building was quiet.

They went upstairs, and each returned to their rooms.

Upon entering, Tong Zhanyan immediately noticed the light shining from Qing Jiyue’s bed.

Qing Jiyue was unusually awake, watching some video—though it had finished playing, leaving the screen black.

Qing Jiyue turned off his terminal. “Why so late?”

“Went out to the street,” Tong Zhanyan explained. “My tomatoes ripened, so I picked them at night.”

Qing Jiyue said nothing more, setting down her terminal as if preparing for bed.

Tong Zhanyan dropped his backpack and headed to the balcony to wash up.

Mid-task, it suddenly dawned on him: Qing Jiyue hadn’t slept because he hadn’t returned?

Tong Zhanyan peered through the doorway, toothbrush in mouth. Qing Jiyue had already turned his back and lain down.

Qing Jiyue maintained a strict routine. In the months they’d lived together, aside from the incident with his father, this was the first time Tong Zhanyan had seen him stay up this late.

Considering this, Tong Zhanyan decided not to disturb him and hurried through his own routine.

Once in bed, Tong Zhanyan found himself unexpectedly unable to sleep.

He hadn’t had time to think about it earlier, but now his mind was filled with the tomato inspection results.

He was certain the two tomatoes he’d saved for seeds had a 44% infection rate. So why did this batch show a 43% infection rate?

Was the machine malfunctioning?

It wasn’t impossible. In fact, some unscrupulous sellers deliberately tampered with testing equipment to inflate results, then bought crops at rock-bottom prices.

But inflating infection rates made sense—why would they deliberately underreport them?

Hadn’t Fang Yiguang and his team noticed the machine was faulty?

Tong Zhanyan rolled over.

It wasn’t entirely impossible.

Should he get another shop to test them?

He still had seeds from the previous batch of tomatoes. Testing them wasn’t impossible, but…

Tong Zhanyan hesitated.

Current research suggests that the lower a crop’s infection rate, the stronger its suppression against frenzy. Many still held hope because they believed mass-producing low-infection crops might cure the condition.

Yet over fifty years, infection rates only climbed higher with each planting cycle—never once showing a downward trend.

If anyone could now achieve a drop in plant infection rates, even by a mere 1%, it would undoubtedly cause an immediate uproar.

Tong Zhanyan found himself growing increasingly restless as he lay awake.

For him, this was far from a positive development—in fact, it was downright disastrous.