That night, Tong Zhanyan held the prize draw.

Following the same procedure, after confirming that everyone was in order, Tong Zhanyan went to bed early.

Two days later, in the morning, Tong Zhanyan arrived at the entrance ten minutes early with Tian Xinqing and the other two.

The ten people were already waiting at the entrance.

Although Gu Yunyang’s group had already settled their accounts, they hadn’t left the open area, which made the ten people feel particularly self-conscious.

After opening the door, Tong Zhanyan briefly explained the presence of Gu Yunyang and his group, then led everyone into the base.

Between free time, feeding the chickens, and shoveling manure, Tong Zhanyan gradually began to feel as though he wasn’t farming but running some kind of cult.

Especially the almost uncontrollable excitement radiating from their faces made that feeling even stronger.

Harvesting was relatively easier than pruning flowers and leaves, since it was quite obvious whether the fruit was ripe or not, but even so, the group still made countless mistakes due to excessive nervousness.

Fortunately, Tian Xinqing and the other three were now considered skilled workers and could help shoulder a lot of the burden.

After about an hour of fumbling around, the group finally got into the swing of things.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t join them; as usual, he took a crate and went off to work on his own.

This time, there was a large harvest; just one row of tomato plants yielded enough to fill a basin after picking only a third of them.

With so many people working, it didn’t take long to fill over a dozen crates to the brim.

“Damn it, how many times has this happened? Why am I still not getting any?”

“Why don’t you just charge us, Senior? Seriously, at least then I’d have some hope.”

“I’m all for charging.”

“Once we finish picking these cherry tomatoes, there probably won’t be any more. Will there be a raffle for the eggplants and cucumbers? I really want to go at least once.”

“Probably. There’s actually quite a lot…”

“More importantly, where can we actually buy Senior’s crops? They look so delicious.”

“With that quality, they probably aren’t cheap.”

“I’d guess at least two or three times the price of regular crops.”

“Two or three times… Is it really that expensive?”

“It is a bit pricey, but I think it’s worth it—the quality is just so much better.”

“Senior has a partnership with the sales channels under the Planting Alliance. There are retail outlets in many cities—you can find them with a quick search. And didn’t you know? Seniors’ crops aren’t allowed to be sold at a markup. If a store is caught doing so, their retail license is revoked immediately, and they’re barred from participating in the future.”

“Is what you said earlier true?”

“It’s true. I work at a retail store, and we actually sell Senior’s crops.”

“I’ve heard about that, too. Apparently, Senior and the Alliance made some kind of agreement, and they’re cracking down pretty hard.”

“Senior, with you acting like this… I’m really struggling to keep up.”

“Dearest Senior…”

“Protect our Senior.”

…

Some of the fruit had already been picked, while others were still green; this harvest amounted to a little over half the total.

That filled a full forty-two boxes.

The sunset had completely disappeared behind the buildings, and night was about to fall completely.

After the last few cherry tomatoes were picked, the group that had come for the raffle looked up from their exhaustion and sweat to see the boxes scattered on the ground, and they were so excited they almost screamed.

Those tomatoes weighed at least 600 jin.

These were crops—crops that others outside this base would struggle to even grow—and now there were a full 600 jin right before their eyes, and they had even helped pick them…

“Why don’t you slap me?”

“I feel like I’m dreaming myself.”

Amid excited whispers, the group helped load the crates onto the truck.

There were simply too many to fit in a single trip, so Boss Bai took Tian Xinqing with him first and would return later.

Tong Zhanyan took this opportunity to prepare gifts: the cherry tomatoes the group had picked themselves.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t stingy, and with so many people, they filled nearly half a crate.

This made the group at the base blush so hard their faces looked like they were about to bleed, and it drove the viewers in the livestream wild.

Getting to both play and take home goodies—this was even better than manna from heaven.

“Senior, why don’t you just charge for this…”

“Jealousy is driving me crazy.”

“Damn it.”

“Over 600 pounds—that’s enough to feed so many people…”

“Aaaah, why wasn’t I there?”

…

After delivering the gifts and arranging dinner, Tong Zhanyan escorted the group to the entrance.

Outside, the lights were blazing, and Gu Yunyang and his crew were already hard at work.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t stay there long.

In contrast to the bustling scene at the entrance, the base remained quiet, especially after nightfall.

Tong Zhanyan tidied up his things and took a quick walk through the fields.

With this batch of fruit picked, there wasn’t much left, and the saplings looked a bit messy and neglected.

Tong Zhanyan thought he should apply some fertilizer while there was still time before the fruit ripened.

As he was walking around, he noticed that the old camera was nowhere to be found. After he’d set its minimum altitude to two meters, it had been hovering overhead for the past few days.

Tong Zhanyan opened the livestream.

The feed hadn’t cut out; the camera was charging itself.

Tong Zhanyan breathed a sigh of relief.

It was so old; it wouldn’t be surprising if it broke down at any moment.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan got busy early in the morning.

After applying the fertilizer, Tong Zhanyan was about to start digging when he saw a notification in the livestream: the camera was still motionless.

Tong Zhanyan immediately looked over, and sure enough, the camera was still in its charging spot.

Tong Zhanyan went over to take a look.

No matter how many times he picked it up, it always drifted back to its original position.

Was it on strike?

Tong Zhanyan thought it over, then reset its settings, removing the two-meter height restriction.

This time, it took off quickly and flew straight toward the cherry tomatoes.

Tong Zhanyan considered replacing it entirely; constant malfunctions weren’t a viable solution.

After finishing up, he continued digging.

This time, it took three days for Gu Yunyang to settle the payment.

Since the quantity was large this time, he’d have to wait a bit longer for the money, but the payments from the previous two transactions had already been transferred.

No sooner had Tong Zhanyan received the money than the farm contacted him—the chicks had started hatching.

He’d bought fifty chicks this time. It sounded like a lot, but since they were all incubated together, hatching would happen within a day or two.

After arranging a delivery time with the supplier, Tong Zhanyan hurried to prepare the pool.

By noon the next day, the supplier had delivered the chicks.

Five chicks per shipping box—a whole truckload.

It took Tong Zhanyan a while to transfer the chicks into the cardboard boxes he’d brought to the door.

The owner must have been watching his livestream too; he didn’t react as strongly as before when Tong Zhanyan put the chicks into the cardboard boxes, but he kept a look of hesitation on his face the whole time.

This is just how Tong Zhanyan raises chickens…

Tong Zhanyan paid the bill and hurried off.

Back near the small house, Tong Zhanyan carefully poured the chicks into the pool and fed them once.

Without their leader, they just looked back and forth at the cherry radishes, bok choy, and other vegetables, none daring to take a bite.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t as anxious as before; he turned and went to tend to other matters.

The next day, just as he had dug up half of his plot, news came from Qing Jiyue’s side: the people had already arrived at the gate—the back gate.

Tong Zhanyan tidied up briefly and went to the back.

There were at least twenty or thirty people; from a distance, they looked like a dark, dense crowd.

Tong Zhanyan spotted Qing Jiyue at a glance.

He had clearly lost a lot of weight, though he still looked in decent spirits.

Beside him stood a middle-aged man with long hair and features similar to his own.

Qing Jiyue’s gaze never left him, as if he were guarding against a thief.

The man’s eyes held a faint hint of resignation.

The car pulled up, the door opened, and Tong Zhanyan stepped forward with a smile. “Qing Jiyue.”

Everyone turned to look.

As he drew closer, Tong Zhanyan noticed that the man—presumably Qing Jiyue’s father—had a bruise on the corner of his mouth. The injury was fresh; it must have happened within the last couple of days.

Tong Zhanyan tried hard not to think about how the injury had been inflicted.

Qing Jiyue could be quite stubborn at times.

“Let’s talk inside,” Tong Zhanyan said, stepping aside to clear the doorway.

Qing Jiyue looked at his father, who reluctantly stepped forward.

The group followed closely behind.

The situation here was quite similar to that at the small building; the building was also at the foot of the mountain, and not too far from the entrance.

Those cages were huge and stood out prominently.

As they got out of the car, everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to them.

Especially Yang Hong and the others.

They had refused to eat the crops—essentially, they didn’t want to cling to life only to drag their families down and end up locked in cages like livestock. Yet now they were choosing to move in of their own accord…

Qing Jiyue had already explained this to them before arriving, but seeing it in person still left them with mixed feelings.

Qing Jiyue stared at the cages for a moment before breaking the silence. “Tong Zhanyan, the owner of this base.”

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

“My father, Qing Suifeng,” Qing Jiyue said, looking at the middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to him.

The man smiled warmly in return.

Qing Jiyue turned to another man in his thirties standing nearby, a man with stern, resolute features. “Yang Hong.”

“H-hello…” Yang Hong took a deep breath, but the blood in his body surged uncontrollably to his brain, causing his consciousness to grow hazy.

Senior Da Liu.

He’s alive. Senior Da Liu.

“You—” Tong Zhanyan was just about to speak when Yang Hong turned and rushed into the nearest cage.

Tong Zhanyan froze. Was he that scary?

Qing Jiyue spoke softly, “He watches your livestream.”

On the way here, Yang Hong had asked him at least twenty times if he was dreaming.

“Chu Yi.”

Tong Zhanyan recognized him at a glance—the man who had previously barged into his and Qing Jiyue’s dorm, only to be poked out with a spear by Qing Jiyue, who had called him a “crazy person.”

“Hello,” Chu Yi beamed.

“Tang Shijin.” A woman in her thirties with a ponytail and striking features stepped forward.

“Hello,” Tong Zhanyan replied.

After introducing everyone, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but glance at Qing Jiyue. There were only four of them so far.

“There’s one more who’ll come later on their own,” Qing Jiyue said, his expression briefly shifting.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t think much of it. “Well then…”

“I’ll handle things here. You just go about your business. I’ll contact you if anything comes up,” Qing Jiyue said.

They had already discussed this briefly before.

During the trial phase, Tong Zhanyan was only responsible for supplying crops on a regular basis; Qing Jiyue would handle daily operations and inspections himself.

Tong Zhanyan granted Qing Jiyue access to the door and left; it would still take some time for Qing Jiyue and the others to settle in.

When Tong Zhanyan returned, the chicks still hadn’t eaten the chopped bok choy. As soon as they saw him peek in, they chirped and clucked, looking utterly starved and aggrieved.

Tong Zhanyan could only shake his head in exasperation.

Since they would start providing food tomorrow, Tong Zhanyan didn’t continue digging in the afternoon. Instead, he began inspecting the batch of cherry radishes and baby bok choy that had already ripened, preparing to set aside a portion for later harvesting.

With five people, even if their appetites were small, they would still need to eat something by the end of the day.

He had already marked out a portion of the cherry tomatoes earlier; when they were harvested, he had asked the others to avoid those plants under the pretext of saving seeds, so they were ready to be picked at any time.

With only this small amount of produce at this stage, nutritional balance wasn’t a concern; the main priority was long-term planning, otherwise running out of food would be a problem.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan prepared the day’s harvest early in the morning.

Qing Jiyue sent someone to pick them up, but Tong Zhanyan went along anyway.

The cages were covered with a layer of cloth—partly to keep out the rain, and partly to provide some privacy.

Yang Hong and his group lived in the cages, while the guards stayed in the small building.

When Tong Zhanyan arrived, the group was washing up in the courtyard, creating quite a lively scene.

Just as Tong Zhanyan was about to speak, he caught a glimpse of a bald head in the living room out of the corner of his eye.

That rounded curve, that shine—

Tong Zhanyan felt an urge to turn and run.

Sensing the gaze, Wang Yanzhou turned his head.

Every hair on Tong Zhanyan’s body stood on end.

A muscle twitched at the corner of Wang Yanzhou’s eye. Was he really that terrifying?

“Teacher Wang?” Tong Zhanyan looked at Qing Jiyue beside him. He must have been seeing things.

“He’s the last one.”

Qing Jiyue’s words carried so much weight that Tong Zhanyan froze in place for a moment.

Everyone Qing Jiyue had brought in was already in a very serious condition; even the Devil King…

Wang Yanzhou looked away, not intending to say much more on the matter.

He actually didn’t want to come; the moment he learned of this opening, Yuan Yuepeng was the first person who came to mind.

He had no family or home; Yuan Yuepeng was a better fit.

But Yuan Yuepeng had refused.

Tong Zhanyan withdrew his gaze.

At the same time, he noticed a pair of intensely piercing eyes.

He followed the gaze and saw that Yang Hong had somehow slipped back into his cage; he was now clinging to the iron bars, watching Tong Zhanyan with excitement.

Tong Zhanyan suddenly thought of Gu Yunyang.

Tong Zhanyan tried to smile at Yang Hong.

Yang Hong’s eyes lit up instantly.

His suspicions confirmed, Tong Zhanyan’s lips twitched. He would definitely stay far away from Yang Hong from now on.

The crops had already been brought inside, but Tong Zhanyan still had work to do in the fields. After taking a quick look, he left.

Victims’ Alliance, Group 1.

“Aaaah—”

…

Yang Hong sent over a dozen screams in a row.

He had run into Senior Da Liu.

Not only had he run into Senior Da Liu, but he was currently right inside Senior Da Liu’s base.

The thought that Senior Da Liu was busy right beside him, while everyone in the livestream and group chat had no idea he was there, left Yang Hong unable to stay calm.

“???”

“What’s got into you this early in the morning?”

“Group Admin, where have you been lately? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Huh? Why has the Group Admin been replaced by Changge…”

“Aaaah—” Yang Hong screamed wildly in the group chat while struggling to suppress the wild grin spreading across his face in reality.

He absolutely couldn’t let anyone else notice how out of it he was.

Tang Shijin, who was washing up nearby, silently took two steps to the side.

A father who was always thinking about taking his own life along with his son, a bald man who looked like he wanted to pick a fight with everyone, a smiling lunatic, and an overly excited guy whose mind was clearly out of whack…

She felt the prospects for this experiment were bleak.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come at all?

After confirming that everything was fine with Qing Jiyue, Tong Zhanyan refocused his attention on his own patch of crops.

The chicks had already discovered that the crops were edible, so Tong Zhanyan added some more for them and replaced the plastic sheeting underneath.

With more of them, there was naturally more waste.

Over by the adult chickens, Tong Zhanyan shoveled out the droppings again.

With more than half of the cherry tomatoes harvested, the eggplants and cucumbers were gradually reaching maturity.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush to harvest them; instead, he gave them a round of fertilizer.

This was the last bit of fertilizer he had left to use.

There was still some composting chicken manure, along with bok choy and cherry radishes, but it would take at least another two weeks for them to fully decompose.

Tong Zhanyan spent the remaining time continuing to dig the soil.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan didn’t go to the back garden; instead, he handed the prepared crops directly to the people who came to pick them up, then joined Tian Xinqing and the others in harvesting the cherry tomatoes.

The bulk of the crop had already been picked, so today’s harvest amounted to less than ten boxes.

After seeing Tian Xinqing and the others off, Tong Zhanyan finished digging the last bit of land, then took out his testing equipment to examine the eggplants and cucumbers.

The infection rate fluctuates as crops mature, so he hadn’t been in a hurry before, but now that more and more of them were ripening, he felt the urgency.

There were as many eggplants and cucumbers as there were cherry tomatoes, so Tong Zhanyan took a sample from each plant, keeping him busy for over a day.

He found that infection rates had also decreased in these crops, though the proportion was much lower than in the cherry tomatoes—it was actually closer to the levels seen in the third batch of cherry radishes and bok choy.

Tong Zhanyan marked all the plants with reduced infection rates; aside from those set aside for seed saving, he planned to feed the rest to Yang Hong and his team.

Once he finished here, the first batch of eggplants and cucumbers officially reached the harvest stage.

Tong Zhanyan called over Tian Xinqing and two others, and they finished the job in just half a morning.

Ning Langdong and Boss Bai took the produce to the entrance.

Tong Zhanyan then officially began tilling his own plot.

The excavator made the first pass quite efficiently, but due to the machine’s limitations, it left behind a lot of hard clumps—even worse than what Qing Jiyue had managed to remove.

After struggling on his own for less than half an hour, Tong Zhanyan called Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran back to help.

He’d managed to handle the previous two mu of land on his own, but now there were a full four mu. If he were to tackle this alone, he wouldn’t be able to do anything else for the next two weeks.

Knowing they’d have to dig, Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran both looked miserable; compared to tending to the crops, digging the soil felt like torture.

Despite their grim expressions, the two rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

“By the way, when are you planning to go back to school?” Su Yanran asked suddenly.

Tong Zhanyan paused for a moment before realizing that the new semester was almost here, causing him to stop what he was doing.

He was already swamped with work living here; if he had to attend classes during the day as well, he’d be completely overwhelmed.

“Didn’t the school set up a department just for you? What did they say?” Tian Xinqing asked as well.

Tong Zhanyan quickly pulled out his terminal to check.

The school hadn’t sent him a single message since the notification that he’d passed the assessment.

It seemed he’d have to make a trip back to school when he had time.

“We might not be able to come by as often once school starts,” Su Yanran added as a reminder. She, Tian Xinqing, and Ning Langdong were all in the Combat Department, and their sophomore year was packed with practical courses.

Tong Zhanyan rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

It was bad enough that his own time was limited, but if he lost these few helpers as well…

The camera, which Tong Zhanyan had set to patrol the previous plot of over two mu, hadn’t followed them, but everyone in the livestream was focused on them.

“Eight mu of land: one mu for cherry tomatoes, one mu for cucumbers, one mu for eggplants…”

“Senior, you have a total of fifteen types of seeds right now. That’s not nearly enough.”

“Some seeds are only in their second batch; there aren’t that many yet…”

“Have you guys seen that Green Shade event?”

“Most Valuable Livestream? I saw it ages ago.”

“Why hasn’t anyone mentioned it? I thought everyone would go vote.”

“Do we even need to call for votes? Senior’s first place is a sure thing, isn’t it?”

“No, actually, first place is a streamer called ‘Yan Family Farm’.”

“No way. Senior already has over six million followers, and his live viewership hasn’t dropped below 300,000 for over half a month. How could he lose?”

“Exactly. Did the person above misread it?”

“Huh, wait—is it really that ‘Yan Family Farm’?”

“I’ll go check.”

…

The Victims’ Alliance, a group.

“Screenshot! Did you guys see this?” Changge said.

Fish-Loving Kitten: “It’s him again.”

Midsummer Crazy Cool: “I checked it out. He doesn’t have the most votes; he’s just been pushed to the top of the list.”

Craving Hot Pot: “Isn’t this supposed to be ranked by votes?”

Zhongxia Crazy Cool: “Could it be a system glitch?”

Fish-Loving Kitten: “It was him last time, and it’s him again this time. Do you guys really believe in such coincidences?”

“What? What?”

“I smell a scandal.”

Melancholic Research Dog: “I’ve already contacted the Green Shade team; they should fix it soon.”

Half an hour later.

Melancholic Research Dog: “Screenshot, done.”

“Finally, that’s a relief.”

“What era are we living in? How can this kind of error still happen?”

“But Senior really doesn’t give anyone a chance, does he? His vote count is over three hundred times that of the runner-up.”

“If you had that kind of skill and were willing to share it for free, we’d vote for you, too.”

“Exactly.”

…

Outside the greenhouse.

Yan Zhenwen frowned as he looked at the traffic trend chart for his livestream over the past month.

Over the past month, he hadn’t just held giveaways for crops and fertilizer solutions—he’d even invited fans to his livestream to work alongside him.

Yet no matter what he did, the traffic remained irreparably low.

Views had already dropped by more than half at the beginning of the month, and now he was struggling to even maintain 5,000 daily viewers.

“Why don’t we try copying his farming methods? There’s this guy called ‘Heihei Yixiao’ who copied him and now has over a million followers, plus his daily active user count is sky-high…” the operations team leader suggested, biting the bullet.

He knew his suggestion wouldn’t be accepted, because Yan Zhenwen was still fixated on selling his liquid fertilizer.

As Senior Da Liu’s method of decomposing leaves and making compost spread, no one uses synthetic liquid fertilizer anymore. Smarter companies have even started producing decomposed soil to sell.

Senior Da Liu had never kept his methods to himself. While this had cut off many people’s income streams, it hadn’t completely blocked the path—instead, it had opened up a brand-new avenue full of possibilities.

But Yan Zhenwen…

Sure enough, Yan Zhenwen’s already sour expression grew even more grim. “How’s the event going?”

“His streamers noticed the report was wrong, so they took it down…”

Yan Zhenwen rubbed the bridge of his nose.

After a long moment, he spoke again, “Does the Yan family have a physical store near his base?”

One of them hurriedly opened their terminal to check.

“Yes.”

At the Base.

Even with Tian Xinqing and the others helping, it still took Tong Zhanyan five days to till that plot of land.

After tilling the soil, it took another two days to burn the leaves and mix the decomposed soil with eggshell powder.

By the time they were completely finished, not to mention Tian Xinqing and the others, Tong Zhanyan himself was feeling a bit sore and achy.

However, he had no time to rest, because it was already time to harvest the crops—and this time, he had three types to harvest at once.

They had harvested once in between, so the cherry tomatoes were nearly at the end of their season, but even so, they’d easily yield ten boxes.

As for the cucumbers and eggplants, they had now entered their peak harvest season, and there were plenty of them.

Seeing Tian Xinqing and the other two lying on the ground, unable to get up for ages, Tong Zhanyan decided to cut himself some slack and opted for a lottery instead.

This time, he selected twenty people.

Eggplants and cucumbers are large in size, so they looked even more plentiful when harvested. By the time they finished in the evening, seeing the forty-plus boxes of produce, the whole group beamed with satisfaction.

Tong Zhanyan was quite pleased as well.

With others doing the work for him, what reason did he have not to be happy?

After seeing the group off, Tong Zhanyan slept soundly through the night and headed to school first thing the next morning.

With the start of the school year approaching and the entrance exams for the new first-year class imminent, the Academic Affairs Office was bustling with activity.

Tong Zhanyan was escorted to the principal’s office.

Upon entering and seeing Chu Yi, Tong Zhanyan was momentarily bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

Noticing Tong Zhanyan’s bewilderment and confusion, Chu Yi’s smile grew even broader. Tong Zhanyan had already finished his first year, yet he didn’t even know who Chu Yi was.

He tapped the nameplate on his desk, gesturing for Tong Zhanyan to look at it himself.

“The principal?” Tong Zhanyan was even more surprised.

Chu Yi got straight to the point. “Here to ask about the curriculum?”

“Yes…”

As if he’d anticipated this, Chu Yi pulled out a course outline from his desk and handed it to Tong Zhanyan.

Tong Zhanyan opened it; the form was blank.

He looked at it.

“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Chu Yi said with a smile. “How do you want to teach the class?”

Tong Zhanyan was speechless.

After a moment’s thought, he felt relieved.

Given the current situation at his base, it was clearly unrealistic to restrict him to the standards of an ordinary student. Even if he were willing, those who needed the crops wouldn’t agree.

“I’ll think it over first,” Tong Zhanyan said, not giving an immediate answer.

Chu Yi nodded. “Just let me know before the semester starts.”

On the way back, Tong Zhanyan kept mulling it over.

If possible, he still hoped to develop some combat ability—after all, this world wasn’t exactly peaceful.

But trying to do both was unlikely, at least not at this stage…

That afternoon, Tong Zhanyan picked all the small tomatoes he’d set aside for seeds.

They were already fully ripe, and many fell off at the slightest touch.

Once finished, Tong Zhanyan grabbed a basin and began processing them. In less than ten minutes, he had collected two large cups of seeds.

He spread the seeds out on the table to dry and tossed the remaining pulp into the chicken coop, then went to check on the cherry radishes and bok choy.

He currently had two batches of cherry radishes and bok choy: one grown from seeds with a high infection rate, and another purchased from the Alliance that had a naturally low infection rate.

The former had been uncovered for some time; Tong Zhanyan had even been feeding them to the chickens for a while, but they had only recently reached full maturity.

The latter had already sprouted, but the plastic wrap was still on.

Tong Zhanyan removed the plastic sheeting and took out the testing tube, preparing to test the mature batch.

In particular, he focused on the plants grown from seeds of the crops discovered in the previous batch to have a reduced infection rate, which were planted separately in a corner.

As the fifth batch, the proportion of crops with reduced infection rates had increased significantly; previously, it was only 1%, but this time it was already approaching 20%—similar to the cherry tomatoes.

As for the plants grown from seeds saved from the previous batch with the reduced infection rate, the proportion showing reduced infection had increased significantly; three out of every ten plants tested positive.

Among the plants he had previously saved seeds from, the bok choy with the lowest infection rate was 43%, and the cherry radish was 44%.

And the bok choy with the lowest infection rate detected this time was only 36%.

Another 7% drop.

At this rate, wouldn’t the infection rate be back below 20% after a few more rounds?

Tong Zhanyan contacted Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue was right at the back door; he came over immediately, and the two spoke face-to-face.

Upon hearing that the infection rate of the crops grown from those seeds had dropped again, Qing Jiyue couldn’t help but be surprised, even though he had already known about this.

“Should I pick some for you to have them analyzed?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“How are Uncle and the others doing?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

By his calculations, they had been staying in the small building for over ten days now.

“Yang Hong said he feels great.”

Tong Zhanyan waited.

Qing Jiyue looked quietly at Tong Zhanyan.

“That’s it?” Tong Zhanyan choked.

“In three days, once they’ve been there for a full fortnight, I plan to have them undergo a fusion test,” Qing Jiyue said.

“Isn’t that too risky?” Tong Zhanyan hesitated; at this stage, once someone undergoes fusion, there’s a high chance they’ll never wake up again.

“It’s the only way to be certain,” Qing Jiyue said.

The reduced infection rate and the frenzy of treatment—these were all new and unknown factors for them; a simple physical assessment would be meaningless.

Tong Zhanyan said nothing more.

Later that day, Qing Jiyue’s people arrived, and Tong Zhanyan delivered the crops to the entrance.

In the afternoon, Tong Zhanyan went into the warehouse, dug out the disposable cups he’d bought but never used, and punched holes in them.

Last time, a thousand cherry tomato plants sounded like a lot, but in reality, it only covered about half an acre.

This time, he planned to plant two acres outright.

He also planned to plant two acres each of eggplants and cucumbers.

As for the remaining two mu, he would use them to plant the seeds he’d bought later.

If this had been before, even without considering the fertilizer issue, he wouldn’t have dared to plant this much, because once the seed infection rate exceeded 50%, he’d have to start over.

But things were different now. Since the infection rate could be reduced—even if he couldn’t control it completely—as long as the infection rate continued to drop, those seeds were effectively unlimited.

The problem remained the soil and fertilizer, especially the fertilizer.

Including the four acres of newly cleared land, the only soil he currently has that’s actually decent is the half-acre plot now being used for the cherry tomatoes.

He’s been using that soil since he started in the training room.

Leaves, ash, eggshell powder, plus the liquid fertilizer he’s been continuously applying during this period, and the manure that followed—even if he did nothing in the early stages, the seedlings planted there would still grow very well.

As for the remaining portion of the two-plus mu of land currently in use, it has manure in it and is still usable, but it’s still a bit inferior in comparison.

As for the four mu of land he’d just cleared in the past few days, and the two mu left over from before that hadn’t been planted, they contain only decomposed leaves, plant ash, and eggshell powder—essentially, they’re just getting started.

The soil is what it is for the time being, so the real issue remains the fertilizer.

With this large crop yield, there will be plenty of plant stalks and stems available for composting. Although the resulting compost is less potent, it’s still usable.

As for the chickens, once this batch of chicks grows up, he’ll have a hundred of them. As long as there’s enough food, full coverage might not be possible, but covering at least four mu of land shouldn’t be a problem.

Add that to the compost from the crops…

No matter how he calculated it, he was still a bit short of covering eight mu of land.

Tong Zhanyan sighed and began pondering the idea of buying pigs once more.

If there were enough seeds, he could plant more cherry radishes, bok choy, and tomatoes. Even if the growth was a bit stunted due to a lack of fertilizer, they would still come up.

The problem was, the chickens were one thing, but could pigs survive on just this stuff all day?

Tong Zhanyan was deeply troubled, but the viewers in the livestream were howling with excitement.

The cherry tomatoes could still be harvested once or twice; though the yield wasn’t as plentiful as before, the clusters still looked heavy with fruit.

The eggplants and cucumbers were in the midst of a bountiful harvest; as the camera panned from below, the vines were laden with fruit.

Aside from those, the corn stalks were already three fingers wide, the string beans had grown to ten centimeters, clusters of chili peppers were visible, and the carrots were two fingers wide—harvest time was just around the corner at the end of the month.

Individually, their quantities aren’t large, but combined, they’re on par with one of the smaller varieties of tomatoes, cucumbers, or eggplants.

Not to mention the new seeds they bought later…

They haven’t even finished tallying how much more they can harvest from the field yet, but Senior Da Liu has already started preparing to start seedlings.

“Why do I feel like him filling the entire farm with crops isn’t just a fantasy, but something that could become reality at any moment?”

“This time it’s two mu, next time eight mu, and who knows how much after that…”

“I’m even starting to worry if this farm is big enough for him to plant everything, since the new seeds are almost ready.”

“Right, and then there’ll be ten new varieties.”

“His seeds have a high infection rate. At this rate, it’ll surpass 50% in no time.”

…

Tong Zhanyan looked at the eggplants and cucumbers.

Pigs seem to eat just about anything.

As he pondered this, Tong Zhanyan reached behind him and pulled out his terminal to contact the chicken farm.

The farm didn’t raise pigs, but they could put him in touch with someone who did.

Tong Zhanyan asked them to check, and while he was at it, he asked if they knew anyone in the construction business.

He could handle the chicken coop himself, but he’d have to hire someone to build the pig pen.

Piglets were small, but a single adult pig could easily knock an adult human flying—the pen had to be sturdy.

The contact knew someone; his farm had just been expanded two years ago.

Tong Zhanyan asked for the contact’s information.

Tong Zhanyan reached out to the contact.

The contact was probably busy and didn’t reply immediately.

Tong Zhanyan switched tabs and started searching for detailed information on pig farming.

Livestock was a bit easier to manage than crops; there were plenty of guides online. Tong Zhanyan had looked into it before, but mainly to check prices.

As he looked further, Tong Zhanyan felt a chill run down his spine.

The internet was full of pictures and videos of pig farmers being attacked and bitten by pigs until they were covered in blood.

Tong Zhanyan knew pigs were omnivores, but domesticated ones usually didn’t attack people on their own. Were the pigs here really that aggressive?

Tong Zhanyan suddenly thought of his own chickens.

People in frenzy, chickens fighting, pigs biting people…

Nothing in this world seemed normal.

“Pigs?”

“Are you planning to raise pigs, streamer?”

“……I’m starting to feel sick again.”

“You’re not going to feed them crops, are you?”

“Pigs seem to eat a lot. How many crops would raising pigs consume?”

“Feeling sick +1.”

“First, we’re living worse than chickens, and now we’re about to live worse than pigs. Is this even livable?”

…

By the time Tong Zhanyan had finished drilling holes in what felt like thousands of cups, the person on the other end finally replied.

Tong Zhanyan quickly washed his hands and began sketching.

The pig pens he’d found online were similar to the chicken coops—if not even more extravagant. Not only did each pig get its own room, but they also came equipped with all sorts of high-tech shower facilities.

Tong Zhanyan decided to stick with his own design for now; if it didn’t work out, he could always change it later.

In contrast, pig pens in his previous world were incredibly simple: a septic tank at the bottom, a few slatted stone slabs on top, a feeding trough, and four walls—that was all.

Tong Zhanyan’s drawing skills were truly lacking.

After finishing the sketch, he looked it over and quietly added some notes.

The other party replied quickly: “I can take the job; I’ll be free in the next couple of days.”

They discussed the materials, and Tong Zhanyan paid the deposit.

Later, Tong Zhanyan dug out the leftover cherry radish and bok choy seeds from before, planning to plant another 100 square meters.

He was now cultivating two 100-square-meter plots in staggered cycles. The manure, chickens, and Yang Hong’s group were currently managing to keep things running smoothly, but adding pigs would definitely be too much.

The chickens, pigs, and manure were manageable, but Yang Hong and his group were picky eaters—

Tong Zhanyan paused for a moment, then silently separated Yang Hong and the others from the chickens and pigs.

Thinking of Yang Hong and the others, Tong Zhanyan immediately recalled the test Qing Jiyue had mentioned.

It should be happening in the next day or two.

He got into the car and headed toward the back gate.

Although the specifics weren’t his concern, he still needed to keep an eye on the progress. If it didn’t work…

From a distance, Tong Zhanyan saw a large white cat with somewhat dull fur crouching inside a big iron cage, holding up its right paw and practicing blooming.

Its plump, pink paw and sharp claws—once, twice…

In front of it, Qing Jiyue stood with a serious expression, instructing it to switch paws and continue the practice.

A smile gradually spread across Tong Zhanyan’s lips.