Chapter Bonanza (2/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

With everyone working with such enthusiasm, efficiency soared, and in no time at all, all the seedlings were distributed.

Old Xu and Old Wang took half, and the rest was divided among the group.

Once they had their seedlings, everyone rushed to operate the excavators. Tong Zhanyan had tilled the soil so deeply that it would be nearly impossible to achieve that depth by hand.

There were only two excavators, but the line of people stretched on. Those who ran fastest got to use them first, while the slower ones had to wait in line.

Old Wang and Old Xu were so furious that they kept cursing.

They didn’t know the first thing about respecting their elders.

Tong Zhanyan watched for a moment before going back to his own work. The high-infection-rate cherry radishes, radishes, and bok choy had been planted about a week earlier than the low-infection-rate varieties and were now nearly ripe.

The infection rate for the previous batch—which had the lowest rate—had reached 29%; if all went well, this batch should be able to stay below 25%.

Tong Zhanyan watered them separately.

When Tong Zhanyan finished his work, Old Xu and his group were gathered together discussing something, their expressions quite serious.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t planned to get involved, but seeing this, he went over to join the conversation.

They had neither transplanting pots nor decomposed soil.

The nursery pots could be sold, and they’d arrive quickly, but decomposing the leaves would take at least a month.

They could gather leaves from the base, but starting the decomposition process now wouldn’t be in time.

Those seedlings would need to be planted in the ground very soon.

Old Xu and Old Wang were considering the possibility of transporting them from the Planting Alliance, but that would take several days.

While Old Xu and Old Wang could source them from the Planting Alliance, Ning Langdong, Yang Hong, and the rest were completely helpless. Having previously relied on their youth and speed, they now looked to the two men with hopeful eyes, hoping to get a share.

Old Xu and Old Wang stood a bit straighter.

Tong Zhanyan was at a loss for words, so he simply told them to go dig some up from the base.

After Ning Langdong came to help him, Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran hadn’t stopped collecting leaves; over the past few months, they’d accumulated quite a stockpile.

Once Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran also came to help at the base, the supply of fresh leaves dried up, though there were still some that were still decomposing.

They’d already used up everything usable during the initial clearing, but now another batch had ripened.

Upon hearing they could dig up soil from the base, the group looked at him with eager eyes.

Tong Zhanyan, however, felt nothing but exasperation. It was just a bit of soil, and even if he gave it to them, wouldn’t it end up back at the base anyway?

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t stingy with the planting pots either; after all, there were extras, and they’d be replenished once used.

Ning Langdong and the others fiddled with it for most of the day.

That night, just before bed, the group couldn’t resist taking one last look before heading back to their rooms.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan harvested the remaining crops and strawberries with low infection rates once more.

After this harvest, there were barely any seedlings left of the low-infection-rate crops.

This was only their second planting cycle; just like the cherry radishes and bok choy, their infection rates had risen from the original 10% to around 15%.

In the afternoon, Tong Zhanyan dug up the sweet potatoes.

They were already ripe.

He had planted over ten plants in total, and the harvest looked quite substantial.

However, since the seeds were five years old, even though Tong Zhanyan had secretly given them extra fertilizer from time to time, the tubers still looked like potatoes.

After letting them air-dry for a day, Tong Zhanyan replanted them all without keeping a single one.

At the same time, the cherry radishes and bok choy with high infection rates had also reached harvestable size.

Tong Zhanyan had them tested immediately.

The infection rate had dropped again; this time, most were around 25%, with the lowest one even at just 23%.

This was exactly what Tong Zhanyan had expected.

The next day, aside from what Yang Hong and the others ate, Qing Jiyue’s team took a batch for research.

Qing Jiyue had never given up on researching the antidote; it seemed there had been recent progress, and he was currently arranging for tests.

When they spoke, Tong Zhanyan asked Qing Jiyue about the condition of his grandfather and the others.

They had been eating the crops for over twenty days, but so far, none of them had shown any changes.

A week later, when the last of the strawberries had been picked, the cherry radishes and bok choy—which had previously been tested and shown low infection rates—officially reached maturity.

Tong Zhanyan tested them again.

Sure enough, although the quantity was small, infection rates of 21% and 22% had already appeared.

After selecting about a hundred plants for seed saving, Tong Zhanyan left them be and began arranging for transplanting.

The new batch of seedlings was ready for transplanting.

Looking at the vast expanse of lush green seedlings, Tong Zhanyan opened the backend settings for the first time in a long while to set up a giveaway.

Fifty participants, over two days.

The viewers in the livestream had been waiting for this for ages; the moment the giveaway was announced, the online viewership skyrocketed.

In just half an hour, it had already surpassed 400,000.

During this period, the livestream’s viewership had generally hovered around 200,000, as everyone was focused on Ning Langdong and the others’ crops.

People in the chat had even started betting on which team would grow the best crops.

Meanwhile, Qing Jiyue had also begun a new round of testing.

He recruited the participants from outside; since he hadn’t planned to cut off food supplies to Yang Hong and his group, they served as perfect control samples.

Two days later, the participants arrived at the gate.

The process was the same, except this time Ning Langdong and his team were leading the way.

Two hours later, once everyone was satisfied, the transplanting officially began.

Tong Zhanyan, Ning Langdong, Old Xu, and Old Wang—the four experienced members—provided guidance and made regular rounds, while the others did the planting.

The Devil King was solely in charge of digging holes.

Fearing he might be overwhelmed, Tong Zhanyan thoughtfully assigned a few of his men to assist him.

With over a hundred people—even if half were novices—the work progressed far faster than with just a few. The sea of seedlings shrank at a visible pace.

By evening, only half the seedlings remained.

Tong Zhanyan judged it sufficient and called it a day.

The next day, with everyone’s skills having improved, the last few seedlings were planted by a little after 4:00 PM.

Tong Zhanyan let the group relax for a while longer, then sent them off at 6:00 PM.

As soon as they left, before Tong Zhanyan could even speak, Ning Langdong and his group quickly gathered their things and rushed to their own plot.

They knew that as soon as the transplanting was done, Tong Zhanyan would make it rain.

They planned to ride the coattails of the rain.

That night, Tong Zhanyan indeed arranged for a downpour.

Whether it was the viewers in the livestream or Ning Langdong’s group, this wasn’t the first time they’d seen rain.

But no matter how many times they saw it, they never grew tired of the crops bursting with vitality after the morning rain.

When Tong Zhanyan came downstairs, the group had already pulled up chairs and were sitting under the eaves, grinning like fools.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t join them, afraid of catching their enthusiasm.

A little later, Tong Zhanyan took a walk through the fields to check on the hatching eggs.

They were about to hatch.

Ning Langdong and the others gathered around; none of them had ever seen anything like this before.

Once the sowing and transplanting were finished, they would have over a month of downtime.

They waited all day, but the eggs showed no signs of hatching.

The next day, when Tong Zhanyan came downstairs, more than ten chicks were already moving inside the incubator.

He quickly fetched the cardboard boxes he’d prepared earlier to remove the chicks whose feathers had already dried.

Ning Langdong and the others saw this and immediately gathered around again.

Tong Zhanyan had them fetch the testing tubes and snipped a small tuft of feathers from each chick for testing.

The infection rate was around 35% for all of them.

When the previous batch of chickens was purchased, the infection rate had been 40%.

Those crops were indeed effective for livestock as well.

The only problem was that mixing them with the current flock would be difficult due to the differing infection rates.

Tong Zhanyan stood up, yielding his spot to Ning Langdong and the others, instructing them to keep watch.

The eggs had started hatching simultaneously, so the chicks would all hatch within a day or two.

By the time Tong Zhanyan had finished his rounds in the fields and cleaned out the pool in the warehouse, several more eggs were already hatching in the incubator.

By the following evening, all the eggs had hatched.

Swapping the boxes for the pool, feeding and watering the chicks, Ning Langdong, and the others were full of enthusiasm.

A few days later, just as their initial novelty had worn off, the seedlings in the field had passed the acclimatization period and began growing like crazy.

Tong Zhanyan quickly applied the first round of fertilizer.

With the fertilizer, they grew even more vigorously, changing visibly day by day.

Compared to them, the seedlings in Ning Langdong’s group’s field weren’t doing so well; the gap was widening by the day.

They had mentally prepared themselves for this, but seeing it with their own eyes still left the group feeling disheartened.

The same was true for the viewers in the livestream.

“The difference between having fertilizer and not having it is really huge.”

“I think Senior’s advice to skip it actually made sense.”

“As long as they survive and bear fruit, that’s good enough. Do we really want to compete with Senior’s crops?”

“Just surviving is enough.”

“Even so, they’re still much better than what a lot of people outside are growing.”

…

Old Xu and Old Wang had managed to get some fertilizer from the Planting Alliance.

However, their fertilizer was still just the most basic compost made from cherry radishes, radishes, and bok choy, and combined with the inferior seedlings, they still looked a cut below.

Tong Zhanyan’s attention wasn’t on those seedlings.

As the other seedlings got on track, the cherry radishes and bok choy in the two plots that had already matured began to enter the flowering stage one after another.

Tong Zhanyan selected some of the healthier ones and manually pollinated them.

Of the two plots of cherry radishes and bok choy, one contained high-infection-rate seeds purchased from Boss Bai, while the other contained low-infection-rate seeds from the Alliance.

Although there had originally been a huge gap between them, their infection rates were now nearly identical, both hovering around 20%.

After finishing the pollination, the new batch of seeds sent by Gu Yunyang had also reached the stage where they could be transplanted.

Perhaps because they had just been awakened, these seeds were growing quite slowly from germination to growth, and the overall condition of the seedlings wasn’t very good.

Tong Zhanyan had been tending to these seeds himself, without anyone else’s help.

There were ten varieties in total; except for the soybeans, which numbered only thirty, the rest each had fifty seeds.

Tong Zhanyan managed to handle it all by himself.

That night, Tong Zhanyan heard the test results for the new batch of medication from Yang Hong and the others who had come to check on the seedlings.

This time, they had switched the medication to an oral form, but the results were still unsatisfactory.

For those who took it, it was as if they hadn’t taken anything at all.

The researchers had come by several times already, but they simply couldn’t figure out why this was happening.

As for Qing Jiyue’s grandfather and the others, a whole month had passed, and there was still no change.

When this topic came up, everyone’s expressions darkened.

Yang Hong and his group had already entered a stage of frenzy; after consuming Tong Zhanyan’s crops with reduced infection rates, their condition was clearly brought under control, but control is not the same as a complete cure.

This was especially true for Ning Langdong.

He had waited for many years, and just when he finally had a glimmer of hope, that hope was immediately dashed…

The group tried their best not to show it in front of Tong Zhanyan and quickly changed the subject.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t call them out on it, but he cast an uneasy glance at the cherry radishes and baby bok choy.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan harvested the crops.

Once the harvest was complete, his first order of business was to plant them again.

If all went well, the infection rate of the high-risk cherry radishes and baby bok choy should drop below 20% by the next harvest.

As for the seeds that already had a low infection rate, if the next batch didn’t show a further decrease in infection rate, it would reach 25%.

Cherry radishes and baby bok choy grow quickly, and with the seeds’ high vitality, sprouts began to emerge the very next day after planting.

Tong Zhanyan waited to see the results, unable to resist running over to check on them.

A week later, Tong Zhanyan transplanted the soybean seedlings into the field.

The plot was the same one near the small house that had previously been used to grow cherry radishes and bok choy; it was just over a hundred square meters.

After transplanting, Tong Zhanyan waited another two days before removing the plastic sheeting from the cherry radishes and bok choy.

Twenty days later, as soon as the bok choy reached maturity, Tong Zhanyan immediately called Ning Langdong and the others over to inspect most of the bok choy in both plots.

The results came back quickly.

Tong Zhanyan’s bad premonition came true.

The batch of bok choy that had originally had a low infection rate still showed no decrease; it now hovered around 22%.

The batch that had originally had a high infection rate also stabilized at around 22%, failing to drop below 20% as he had hoped.

Old Xu and Old Wang, who had been closely monitoring the infection rate, immediately sensed the problem. They said nothing, but their eyes were filled with concern.

His bad premonition had indeed come true. With the weight lifted from his shoulders, Tong Zhanyan actually breathed a sigh of relief.

He had a rough idea of why this was happening.

To lower the infection rate of crops, one must enhance the crops’ own vitality; the healthier the crops are, the greater the likelihood of reducing the infection rate.

Crops possess the ability to self-regulate.

As for why the rate had plateaued around 22%, the reason was simple: that was already their limit.

On his current plots, the mix of plant ash, eggshell powder, compost from cherry radish, bok choy, and cherry tomato seedlings, along with chicken manure and pig manure, seemed impressive on paper. In reality, aside from the chicken and pig manure, the rest had little to no fertilizing effect.

Even the most promising chicken and pig manure—due to the small quantities and large area of land—require such high dilution ratios that they barely provide enough to keep the plants from starving.

Since he’s kept the nutrient levels at just enough to prevent starvation, it’s no wonder the crops are barely clinging to life.

To make further progress, the solution is simple: genuinely improve the soil quality.

But that’s easier said than done.

When he first started with just two mu of land, the soil brought in from the greenhouse was slightly better—though “better” merely meant it had a bit of fertilizer mixed in.

Later, when he had eight mu, the only plots that were barely passable were the original two mu, because they had been fertilized with manure.

By the time he finishes planting these twenty mu, the previous eight mu should be in decent shape, and the original two mu will be even better after being fertilized with manure for over half a year.

He had originally planned to continue farming this way, using the soil to nourish the land.

It seems now that he had underestimated the situation.

Once he runs out of the high-infection-rate seeds, and all the seeds reach the 20% threshold, the issue of “decreasing infection rates” will no longer exist.

He can’t very well throw away the seeds with infection rates around 20% and buy more high-infection-rate seeds.

Or perhaps “poison” them to artificially boost the infection rate?

If he were to force the issue, there were certainly ways to do it, but Tong Zhanyan felt that wasn’t a reliable solution.

First, crops with an infection rate exceeding 20% would become bitter, making them inedible.

Second, he suspected that the reason Qing Jiyue’s grandfather and the others weren’t seeing any benefits from the current crops was likely because the infection rate wasn’t low enough.

What if the infection rate were zero?

No crop in this world has a zero infection rate, because once planted, the infection rate is bound to rise.

Pondering this, the next day, Tong Zhanyan dug out all the cherry radish and bok choy seeds he’d saved, then sowed them across the entire acre of empty land he’d set aside.

Under current conditions, large-scale cultivation was impossible, so he planned to first improve the quality of this single mu of land.

Soybeans, peanuts, and red clover had only just been sown for the first time; large-scale planting would require waiting at least five or six months.

Even if he waited for them, that would only bring about a certain degree of improvement—it wouldn’t instantly make the soil fertile.

Until then, there was one more thing he could do: green manure.

In short, green manure involves burying entire plants in the soil to decompose, thereby improving soil structure and increasing nutrients.

This differs from composting, as the plants themselves contain significant amounts of nutrients and fiber.

In the Live stream.

“Are you planning to grow these to sell?”

“There’s no way chickens and pigs could eat all of this, right?”

“The last batch of crops is almost sold out. I need to figure something out, or else the frenzy—which I’ve barely managed to control—will start getting serious again.”

“Why did you suddenly change your tune, senior?”

“……Why do I feel so uneasy?”

“……Fear +1”

“I just don’t think it’s likely.”

…

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished his work, a large sheet of plastic sheeting had already been laid out in front of the small building.

After wrapping up, Tong Zhanyan grabbed a knife and led Ning Langdong and the others to the woods by the river.

He planned to cut branches and gather deadwood to burn into plant ash.

His current supply of plant ash came from the leaves of the trees at school, so its composition was quite simple.

Although the condition of these trees probably wasn’t much better, having a little extra material offered some hope.

He hadn’t originally planned to harm them—they were already struggling to survive—but now…

He had no choice.

Ten days later, when it was time to remove the plastic covers from the cherry radishes, bok choy, and tomatoes, a pile of branches nearly as tall as the small building had already accumulated on the vacant lot to the left of the building.

Meanwhile, the cherry radishes in the field were sprouting flower buds and branching out.

Tong Zhanyan removed the plastic covers from the cherry radishes, bok choy, and tomatoes, then led the group back to gather more branches.

Another week later, just as the cherry tomatoes needed their flowers and leaves pinched off, the trees along the riverbank had been cut down until they were completely bare.

Tong Zhanyan almost didn’t dare to look at them.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush to burn the branches; instead, he first organized the pinching of flowers and leaves.

Ning Langdong, Yang Hong, and the others weren’t new to this task. Tong Zhanyan called over the guards, drew lots to select fifty more people, and assigned them to lead the teams.

He himself took care of the cherry tomatoes, cherry radishes, and bok choy.

During this time, Tong Zhanyan hadn’t skimped on fertilizer; on the contrary, he’d watered them diligently.

They were already ripe.

Just as the group selected by lottery was working alongside Ning Langdong and the others so hard their smiles stretched from ear to ear, the sound of machinery suddenly echoed through the air.

The group instinctively turned to look and saw Tong Zhanyan frantically pulling up the freshly matured cherry radishes and baby bok choy, then ruthlessly tossing them into the shredder.

He was pulling them up by the handful with gusto, and the shredder was churning away with equal vigor; it was as if the two were competing to see who could work harder.

The smiles on everyone’s faces froze, then slowly faded.

Live stream.

“Why am I not surprised at all?”

“I knew it…”

“The moment he spat out that mouthful of blood, I knew I shouldn’t have held out any hope.”

“Surprised yet not surprised—I have to say, that’s just like you, Senior.”

…

Tong Zhanyan buried the shredded cherry radishes, radishes, and bok choy directly into the ground.

To speed up decomposition, he even covered them with plastic sheeting.

“What’s this all about?”

“Is this for composting again? Right here in the ground?”

“But isn’t that a waste? He’s gone through so much liquid fertilizer lately. If he uses it all here, won’t the other crops run out?”

“I’m a little worried too.”

…

After dealing with them, Tong Zhanyan immediately cleared another acre of land nearby.

The cherry radishes and bok choy from before had already started flowering.

This time, Tong Zhanyan saved more seeds.

While waiting for the seeds to sprout, Tong Zhanyan went back to the woods, this time to cut some grass.

The grass was even more pitiful than the trees; sometimes he had to walk a long way just to find a few clumps, and the few patches that did exist all looked malnourished.

Tong Zhanyan felt as though he were a cruel executioner.

There was too little grass; pulling it felt pointless. As he worked, Tong Zhanyan’s eyes darted to the field next to him.

With the cherry tomatoes and other plants now having their flowers and leaves pinched off, the entire nineteen mu of land now looked lush and green.

Tong Zhanyan hesitated for only a moment before heading toward them.

The first to fall victim was the corn.

Though the plants had already grown taller than a person and were in full bloom, their leaves weren’t as densely packed as those of the cherry tomatoes, but there were still plenty of them.

Tong Zhanyan crouched down and began pulling out the lower leaves.

Since corn leaves could be chopped up to feed pigs and cows, Tong Zhanyan pulled them without any hesitation.

This time, he had planted about two mu each of corn and pumpkins. After a thorough pruning, he managed to fill a full four tricycles, which brought a smile to his face for the first time in a long while.

This only spurred him on further.

After finishing with the corn, he grabbed a pair of shears and turned to start harvesting the pumpkins.

He trimmed back any excess branches, cut away the roots that were blocking airflow, and snipped off any tips that looked unsightly.

After harvesting three more loads, he gazed wistfully at the cabbages, radishes, and carrots…

He figured he could pinch back the eggplants, cucumbers, and cherry tomatoes, too—after all, there definitely wasn’t enough fertilizer this time.

“…What’s gotten into him?”

“He’d even pluck a couple of hairs off any dog that passed by.”

“Haven’t those cherry tomatoes already been pinched?”

“He’s plucked the eggplants bald.”

“Forget all that. You didn’t see the look in his eyes when he walked past other people’s plots. I even suspect he’d get up in the middle of the night to steal those seedlings.”

“…Be a decent person and leave them alone. It’s hard enough for those folks to grow them.”

…

Tong Zhanyan was indeed tempted.

Anyway, those seedlings wouldn’t bear much fruit anyway, so he might as well give them to him.

But before he could turn his thoughts into action, Ning Langdong and his group turned to look at him as if he were a thief.

Tong Zhanyan had promised to give those to them.

After picking the last few cherry tomatoes, Tong Zhanyan was just thinking about what else to pick when Qing Jiyue was startled and came over.

Once he figured out what was going on, Qing Jiyue—under the expectant stares of Yang Hong and his group—left just as quietly as he had come.

The smiles on Yang Hong and his group’s faces froze.

Tong Zhanyan looked at the seedlings in their field.

The group instantly flew into a rage.

They decided that starting tonight, they would take turns keeping watch to guard against thieves.

Though reluctant, after gathering to discuss it, they reluctantly decided that if Tong Zhanyan absolutely insisted, they would give them to him.

As they spoke these words, they looked as though they were willing to sacrifice their lives for a noble cause.

Tong Zhanyan was at a loss.

It wasn’t as if he absolutely had to uproot them; after all, there were only four or five hundred of them, and they all looked sickly and frail. Even if he pulled them out by the roots, it wouldn’t amount to much.

Tong Zhanyan turned his attention back to the grass.

A week later, by the time Ning Langdong and the others had finished picking flowers and leaves, Tong Zhanyan had already completely cleared the grass from the surrounding area.

The cherry radishes, bok choy, and other vegetables had already set seed, so Tong Zhanyan took a break and sowed seeds for them in the newly cleared acre of land.

After finishing with them, Tong Zhanyan looked once more at the pile of things he’d gathered over the past few days.

He’d picked whatever he saw, and while it seemed like a lot, there wasn’t actually much—especially after the leaves had dried out and wilted, making the pile look even smaller.

Tong Zhanyan divided them evenly into two portions: one was mixed with the branches and burned to ash, while the other was ground into a fine pulp.

Ten days later, just as the cherry tomatoes were ready for pollination, the cherry radishes and baby bok choy in the newly cleared plot had also ripened.

Tong Zhanyan pulverized them into fine particles once more.

Then he removed the plastic mulch from the previous acre of land and buried everything—the ash, crop residue, and all the manure—deep into the soil.

Finally, Tong Zhanyan replaced the mulch.

The soil at the base was loess; mixing in manure and ash a few times before had only darkened its color slightly.

After Tong Zhanyan’s series of actions this time, he turned it pitch black.

Tong Zhanyan was quite satisfied.

At the base, Old Xu and the others watched him go crazy while popping heart pills, while the crowd in the livestream had long since erupted into an uproar.

Tong Zhanyan used up all the manure.

That manure was the best of all his fertilizers—he’d saved it up over more than a month during the harvest and seedling-raising periods, and it accounted for a third of his total supply.

Tong Zhanyan had just used it all up. What about the cherry tomatoes and eggplants?

They were about to bear fruit.

This would definitely affect the yield.

Was Tong Zhanyan going to abandon the remaining nineteen acres just for the sake of this one acre?

For the next little while, Tong Zhanyan actually had some peace, because he had to wait for the soil to decompose naturally.

With a full nineteen mu this time, the timing of the crops was even more unpredictable; some had just been pollinated, while others were already turning red.

After resting for two days, Tong Zhanyan arranged for an appraisal.

While Gu Yunyang and his group conducted appraisals to sell their crops, Tong Zhanyan’s goal was to gain a clearer understanding of the situation.

For this purpose, he even went out of his way to purchase two more machines.

For this batch of crops, the infection rates for string beans, chili peppers, and carrots were already approaching 40%; eggplants and cucumbers were around 30%; and cherry tomatoes had reached about 25%.

Once the inspection was complete, Tong Zhanyan arranged for the harvest the very next day.

Mr. Bai and his team, along with the rest of the base staff, worked tirelessly all day.

With so much land this time, even after pruning the flowers and leaves quite aggressively, the harvest was still quite staggering—they filled over a hundred boxes during the first picking alone.

The second picking took place three days later, yielding a full two hundred boxes.

By the third harvest, some of the crops had already entered the peak harvest phase.

The group had been counting since morning, but no matter how many times they checked, no one could actually count them all—because this time, there were at least four hundred boxes.

That night, Tong Zhanyan met with Gu Yunyang.

He had come specifically to tell Tong Zhanyan that the payment might be delayed.

Ever since Tong Zhanyan resumed farming, they had been developing distribution points in advance to prepare.

Over the past two months, their sales network had expanded more than threefold.

Last time, Tong Zhanyan had only eight mu of land; this time, it was around twenty mu—nearly three times the previous amount. Plus, since he didn’t have enough fertilizer this time and had pruned the flowers and leaves so aggressively, they assumed it would definitely be enough.

Little did they know the situation would still exceed their expectations.

The string beans, carrots, and chili peppers had already passed the initial seedling stage and were now entering the high-yield phase.

Even the seeds with a low infection rate that the Alliance sold to Tong Zhanyan—this was already the third planting—were yielding quite a substantial harvest.

As a result, a large amount of unsold crops had piled up, and naturally, they hadn’t received any payment.

Under the cover of night, in front of the small building.

“Is everything okay?” Tian Xinqing asked with some concern.

Crops have a shelf life, and they’re quite expensive—only a limited number of people can afford them. We can’t let them sit around until they actually rot.

“It shouldn’t be a big problem.” Gu Yunyang hadn’t expected that one day he’d genuinely worry about this; his features were slightly contorted.

“Then sell them at a discount,” Tong Zhanyan said.

Everyone in front of the small building looked over.

Tong Zhanyan spoke as casually as if commenting on the weather, “That’s called selling at a low profit margin to move high volume.”

Gu Yunyang’s facial muscles twitched slightly. He didn’t think “selling at a low profit margin to move high volume” worked that way, but he understood exactly what Tong Zhanyan meant.

After a long moment, he finally found his voice. “Are you really willing to…”

The goods belonged to Tong Zhanyan; they were merely helping to sell them. If Tong Zhanyan was willing to lower the price…

Tong Zhanyan thought for a moment. “We could try a 10% discount to start.”

He sold the cherry tomatoes to Boss Bai for over 200 credits per gram; reselling them in the store would definitely bring in a little extra profit, meaning each gram would fetch at least 300 credits.

Even with a 10% discount, that’s still 270 credits.

And that’s just per gram.

The group watched Tong Zhanyan in silence.

Discounting crops…

This wasn’t the first time they’d heard Tong Zhanyan say this, but they hadn’t really taken it seriously before.

It wasn’t that they doubted Tong Zhanyan; it was just that all of this seemed too far-fetched to them.

Because outside of Tong Zhanyan’s base, those unwilling to learn from him were still struggling just to survive.

As for those willing to learn, even the fastest among them had only recently seen their second crop ripen.

Outside, things were still in such a dire state, yet Tong Zhanyan was already planning to sell at a discount…

After a long moment, Gu Yunyang finally said, “I’ll tell them.”

Tong Zhanyan nodded and turned to go inside.

He could actually accept a 30% or 40% discount, but slashing prices this much right off the bat—while he himself didn’t mind—would likely make the other growers hate him to the core.

No, to be more precise, even if he offered a 99% discount, he’d still be offending a huge number of people—and offending them in the most severe way possible.

After all, cutting off someone’s livelihood is like killing their parents.

Gu Yunyang stood at the doorway for a while longer before leaving.

Old Xu and Old Wang exchanged glances and silently followed him.

This was no small matter.

That night, Tong Zhanyan slept soundly.

Old Xu and Old Wang, however, did not return all night.

They had just finished harvesting yesterday, so today was a day of rest.

Tong Zhanyan went to check on his plot of land.

As they decayed, their color grew darker by the day; faint traces of green—whether moss or mold—were beginning to appear.

Seeing them, Tong Zhanyan felt quite pleased.

Ning Langdong and the others checked the livestream as soon as they woke up.

Just thinking about what was about to happen made them all a bit nervous.

7:00 a.m. Everything was as usual.

8:00 a.m. The number of viewers in the livestream had increased significantly, but still no one mentioned it.

9:00 a.m. Just as Ning Langdong and the others were beginning to think the announcement wouldn’t come today, the livestream suddenly became lively.

“Have you guys seen the announcement from the Planting Alliance? Senior’s crops are going on sale.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s a line of people scrambling to buy the seniors’ crops—how could they possibly be on sale?”

“Exactly.”

“Just go check for yourselves.”

“I already saw it. Looks like they really are having a sale—9.5% off.”

“???”

“Does that mean the ones with infection rates over 50%?”

“No, all crops—including those with lower infection rates…”

…

The Victims’ Alliance, one group.

“Screenshot. You guys go check it out.”

“I’m not seeing things, right? Senior’s crops are going on sale?”

“I was just about to tell you guys this…”

“You must be mistaken.”

“But I just got up, didn’t I?”

“It’s true. News came down suddenly last night—starting today, all crops will be discounted uniformly.”

Changge typed several times but couldn’t seem to form a complete sentence.

Because at that moment, she truly didn’t know what to say.

Not long ago, she had cried her eyes out over the drop in infection rates; she still remembered that feeling of crying until her heart pounded and she couldn’t catch her breath.

How much time has passed?

And now the seniors’ crops are going to be discounted?

…

The Base, Back Gate.

The first thing Yang Hong did after waking up was check the live stream, even though he was already inside the base.

Seeing that sudden news flash, seeing the latest announcement from the Planting Alliance, he froze in place, completely dumbfounded.

“What are you spacing out for?” Tang Shijin asked as she walked past; Yang Hong had suddenly stopped dead in the middle of the path.

“His crops are going on sale.”

“What?”

“His—Tong Zhanyan’s… Senior’s crops. Starting today, they’re being sold at a discount.”

Tang Shijin stopped in her tracks, and Wang Yanzhou and the others, who were washing up nearby, all turned to look.

In that moment, everything around them fell silent.

Yang Hong tried to say something else, but for a long time, no sound came out.

It felt as though something had exploded inside his chest—something scalding hot, burning his throat and making his eyes sting.

The crops… are going on sale.