Chapter Bonanza (3/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

When Tong Zhanyan returned to his room after inspecting the plot of land, he could tell from the expressions on Ning Langdong and the others’ faces that Gu Yunyang must have made a move. He opened the livestream to take a look.

Realizing they were only offering a 9.5% discount, Tong Zhanyan felt a bit helpless. What difference did it make whether they offered a discount or not?

However, Tong Zhanyan didn’t say anything in the end; after all, everything takes time.

Closing the terminal, Tong Zhanyan glanced at Ning Langdong and the others, and another matter came to mind. “Once Old Xu and Old Wang return, let’s hold a meeting.”

Ning Langdong and the others exchanged glances.

“A meeting?”

“Is something up?”

“Yeah.” Tong Zhanyan didn’t elaborate; he turned away and went back to his other tasks.

Probably having heard about the meeting from Ning Langdong and the others, Old Wang and Old Xu returned half an hour later.

Having stayed up all night, both men had bloodshot eyes.

Tong Zhanyan suggested they get some sleep first—since they’d just finished harvesting and had nothing else to do today—but they refused. They were too excited to sleep.

Reducing the infection rate in cultivated crops had been their lifelong pursuit; a crop yield increase was a fantasy beyond their wildest dreams.

They still felt as if it were all a dream.

Ten minutes later, a group of people sat around a table in the first-floor lobby.

Tong Zhanyan got straight to the point.

After a period of learning and adjustment, the group had gained a certain understanding of the base’s operations, so he was ready to clarify their respective responsibilities moving forward.

Farming, raising chickens and pigs, buying and selling crops, the livestreaming channel, testing medicines, the farmstay, plus his new plot of land and those watermelons he’d never gotten around to planting…

As the base continued to expand, his daily workload grew heavier and heavier. It had reached a point where he couldn’t handle everything alone, so he planned to assign each of them a specific area of responsibility.

Tian Xinqing was more enthusiastic about and familiar with online matters, so Tong Zhanyan planned to have him manage the livestream, primarily handling giveaways and announcements.

He would also be responsible for welcoming the participants of the giveaways.

Ning Langdong had been there the longest and worked the hardest, so Tong Zhanyan planned to have him manage the farmstay.

The farm stay hasn’t opened yet, but once it does, the combined costs of food, drink, and miscellaneous expenses will add up significantly.

He planned to have Su Yanran oversee the chicken and pig farming.

Feeding, cleaning up waste, collecting eggs, and washing the pig pens—these tasks may not seem like much, but they’re actually quite tedious.

He also plans to buy another male and female pig soon to facilitate breeding later on.

Old Xu and Old Wang, meanwhile, are primarily responsible for clearing land, making compost, and assisting him in managing the crops.

The two of them have experience; although much of that experience isn’t applicable here, their knowledge of plants is still greater than that of Ning Langdong and the others.

He now has twenty mu of land. Once this crop is harvested, if he expands further with the next batch, the scale will be much larger—something he can no longer manage entirely on his own.

Especially during the busy farming season.

Regarding the business deal, Tong Zhanyan plans to discuss it further with Boss Bai. Previously, Boss Bai had come under the guise of helping out, and at most, Tong Zhanyan would give him a generous red envelope afterward.

This arrangement certainly won’t work in the long run.

If Mr. Bai isn’t willing, he’ll have to explore other options as soon as possible.

He doesn’t need to worry about the drug testing; Qing Jiyue has that completely under control.

Of course, with a base this large, no single person can handle every task alone.

So they’ll still work together, though each of them needs to pay extra attention to their respective areas of responsibility.

Additionally, he’ll bring up the issue of salaries and benefits again.

After hearing Tong Zhanyan’s words, Ning Langdong and the others fell silent.

“No?” Tong Zhanyan waited a moment but received no reply; he paused in surprise. He’d assumed they’d be willing, so he hadn’t asked beforehand. “If not, it’s fine—”

“No, I’m willing.” Ning Langdong interrupted before Tong Zhanyan could finish.

It wasn’t that he was unwilling; he was simply too surprised.

Tong Zhanyan was clearly asking them to help him manage the base.

That was different from their previous part-time work; it meant they would have a certain degree of say in matters.

Although there were only a few of them now, and they managed things among themselves, this was Senior Da Liu’s base.

It was Senior Da Liu’s base—a place thousands of people outside couldn’t even dream of entering.

It was Senior Da Liu’s base—a place that felt like a sacred site to everyone.

“I’m in too,” Tian Xinqing was the second to react.

“Me too,” Su Yanran spoke up almost simultaneously.

Old Wang and Old Xu exchanged a glance, then moved in perfect unison—one reaching for a heart-rescue pill, the other for a respirator.

“We have no objections either.”

“Right.”

Tong Zhanyan let out a sigh of relief. “So, is that settled then?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Alright.”

Tong Zhanyan nodded and stood up. “I’ll head over to the back gate.”

He planned to go talk to Chu Yi.

Ning Langdong and the others were now spending their days at the base just like him, so naturally, they didn’t have time to collect leaves.

But given his current circumstances, he couldn’t afford to stop collecting leaves.

He planned to recruit workers at the school.

Sidi Military Academy was vast; compared to scouring the entire city, collecting leaves on campus might actually be easier. Moreover, the academy had many students from the outer districts who needed part-time work.

Most importantly, compared to recruiting temporary workers from outside, he trusted the people at Sidi Military Academy more.

With the discount incident, he didn’t know how many people he’d offended; being cautious couldn’t hurt.

When Tong Zhanyan arrived, Chu Yi wasn’t there.

Tong Zhanyan asked around and learned that Chu Yi wouldn’t be back until at least evening, so he explained the situation to the Devil King.

He hoped to recruit workers under the academy’s name.

Since Chu Yi and the Devil King ate and lived off him, it was only right for them to lend a hand; besides, having them oversee things gave him greater peace of mind.

The Devil King took note of everything.

The Devil King at the base was exceptionally well-behaved.

After finishing his conversation with him, Tong Zhanyan went to check on his agritourism site.

The cages were nearly assembled, and the cafeteria, bathhouse, restrooms, and the employee dormitory he’d added at the back were almost finished. Tong Zhanyan took a quick tour; the overall style resembled a prison more than a rural resort.

…A prison-style rural resort?

After returning, Tong Zhanyan opened a shopping app and went on a buying spree.

He had the buildings; now he definitely needed furniture.

Twenty cages and a five-story employee dormitory—that added up to sixty or seventy rooms.

Although he didn’t have that many staff members yet, he planned to stock up on furniture anyway.

The guards could stay there too; right now, they were all crammed into the small building, sleeping in sleeping bags, looking rather pitiful.

Sixty or seventy sets of furniture—that wasn’t cheap.

But he had plenty of money now, so he didn’t feel the slightest bit of regret spending it.

By the time he finished, it was already nighttime, so Tong Zhanyan went to bed early.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan gave Tian Xinqing a moderator position and briefly outlined his management policy for the livestream—don’t interfere.

Both he and his fans had grown accustomed to the current setup, and since hardly anyone was criticizing him anymore, imposing a bunch of new rules would just seem odd.

Finally, Tong Zhanyan guided Tian Xinqing in announcing the next giveaway.

The crops in the fields were ready for harvest again.

Two days later, guests arrived at the door.

Tian Xinqing led Ning Langdong and Su Yanran to greet them. Su Yanran then took them to feed the chickens and pigs, while Old Wang and Old Xu arranged for them to learn how to harvest the crops.

The farm stay hadn’t started yet, but Ning Langdong helped out the entire time.

Tong Zhanyan took advantage of their busy moment to have a face-to-face chat with Boss Bai.

Upon learning of Tong Zhanyan’s plans, Boss Bai gave him a deep look before nodding readily.

Things were different now. Not only would he be willing to come work here, but he’d even be happy to keep helping out like this indefinitely.

As for his shop, there was no need to close it—he could just hire a manager.

Tong Zhanyan breathed a sigh of relief.

Mr. Bai was a hands-on type; no sooner had Tong Zhanyan exhaled than he began outlining the next steps.

Tong Zhanyan had entrusted the sale of his current crops entirely to the Planting Alliance.

He didn’t doubt Gu Yunyang, Old Xu, or Old Wang, but he still hoped to establish a formal team to conduct spot checks and oversee the entire sales network to some extent, in order to avoid potential trouble.

After all, this involved money.

There was a reason why Boss Bai’s store had grown to be the largest on the entire street.

Tong Zhanyan listened quietly, then nodded.

Mr. Bai could handle the arrangements for this.

By the time they finished discussing, quite a few crates had already been filled, and Mr. Bai went back to work.

Tong Zhanyan watched from the side for a while but didn’t join in; instead, he climbed onto the excavator and headed toward the large open area above the small building.

It would take at least a month before that acre of land would be ready for use, so he planned to plant watermelons there in the meantime.

The base was roughly rectangular, with two small buildings situated at the bottom left and top right corners.

There was indeed a large open area behind the small building where he currently lived, but if he cleared that section, the resulting rise in temperature might affect the plot that had already been cleared.

He planned to clear the land for watermelons in the top-left corner.

It took him over ten minutes to get there.

Apart from the trees lining the river, the area was completely empty.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t get out of the car; after circling the area once, he simply started digging.

He had never grown watermelons before, and with only a few seeds, he didn’t need much land—he could manage it all by himself.

On the street.

The Yan Family Farmhouse.

Fang Yiguang looked at the person in front of him in surprise. “Ask him to meet us?”

“Right. Didn’t you say you know him?” Yan Zhenwen said.

Fang Yiguang hesitated slightly. “Is there something specific you need? Should I just pass on the message for you?”

Yan Zhenwen cut straight to the point: “If you can arrange for us to meet, I’ll give you five hundred thousand.”

Fang Yiguang’s lips trembled, a complex look deepening in his eyes. “I’ve only met him a few times before. He might not—”

“One million,” Yan Zhenwen interrupted.

Fang Yiguang lowered his gaze.

He liked money. The reason he’d jumped ship from Boss Bai’s shop to the Yan family was simply that the Yan family paid better, and they’d promised him a commission for every customer he brought in.

Boss Bai had treated him well, but it was just a job—he felt no guilt about it.

But…

“Two million,” Yan Zhenwen said.

Fang Yiguang’s lips trembled.

Most people’s salaries were only three or five thousand; two million would be enough to ensure he never had to worry about food or shelter for the rest of his life.

“…What exactly are you trying to do?” Fang Yiguang asked, looking up.

Although the Yan family wasn’t doing well in the farming industry, they were still a leading force in their own traditional line of business.

Senior Da Liu’s crop sales network was always recruiting new retailers; if Yan Zhenwen wanted to join, it would be a piece of cake.

Yan Zhenwen didn’t seem to be after any of that.

Yan Zhenwen couldn’t possibly be trying to kill…

“That’s none of your business,” Yan Zhenwen said.

Fang Yiguang remained silent.

“Five million.”

Fang Yiguang gritted his teeth. “…Actually, I was lying to you. I’ve never even spoken to him—I’ve only seen him from a distance twice.”

“Pack your things and get out.” Yan Zhenwen’s face was expressionless, but his words were spoken through gritted teeth.

The Yan family had invested nearly their entire fortune in this transformation. Fertilizer solution was their first step, physical stores were the second, and the third was establishing large-scale cultivation bases.

But now, the fertilizer solution had long since been discontinued. Without the fertilizer solution to drive sales, the physical stores—coupled with the lack of business from Senior Da Liu’s crop sales—were dead in the water. As for the farming bases, they were out of the question.

Forget about making a profit; they wouldn’t even be able to recoup their initial investment.

He refused to accept it.

The plan had been going smoothly.

But then that guy suddenly showed up.

Fang Yiguang paused for a moment, then turned and headed toward the staff room.

A moment later, he left with his belongings.

He stepped outside, took a couple of steps, then turned back. “My salary for this month. And since you fired me, you owe me compensation.”

He loved money, and perhaps he wasn’t exactly a good person, but he had his own bottom line.

Tong Zhanyan stopped after tilling only about an acre of land.

On his way back, he saw Ning Langdong and his group working feverishly in the fields.

He switched to his utility vehicle, grabbed a hoe, and headed back.

Accustomed to working eight or ten acres at a time, suddenly working just one acre made Tong Zhanyan feel his efficiency had improved significantly.

By 3:00 p.m., the field was fully tilled.

Tong Zhanyan returned, started the excavator again, and dug up the well-decomposed soil from the mounds that had already broken down, intending to transport it to the upper area.

The excavator was quite large, and since the amount of soil needed for just one mu wasn’t much, the entire area was covered in less than an hour.

Since there were no ready-made leaves for plant ash, they had to go into the woods to gather them. Tong Zhanyan wasn’t in a hurry and planned to wait for Ning Langdong and the others to join him tomorrow.

When he returned, the setting sun hung low on the horizon, and Ning Langdong and the others were just finishing up.

The group was quite excited, as this time they had gathered over five hundred boxes—a hundred more than last time.

With so many hands, they finished collecting the leaves by mid-morning.

Tong Zhanyan lit the fire right away.

Since the leaves were a mix of dry and wet, the smoke billowed thickly as they burned.

Yang Hong and the others noticed and ran over to watch the commotion.

Upon hearing that Tong Zhanyan planned to grow watermelons—and that these watermelons could grow as large as pumpkins, with a beautiful red interior—the group grew quite eager.

Since hardly anyone had managed to grow them successfully before, they’d only seen pictures online and had never had the chance to taste them.

As they chatted, the conversation gradually shifted to which crops at the base tasted the best.

Ning Langdong and his group hadn’t had much opportunity to eat them, but Yang Hong and his group had sampled nearly every crop at the base.

It was clear this wasn’t the first time they’d discussed this topic; once they started, they couldn’t stop.

This made Ning Langdong and his group look at them with eyes that held a hint of murderous intent.

Old Xu and Old Wang, however, remained silent.

They had grown watermelons before, but no one dared speak up now, because the largest watermelons they’d grown had a diameter of only about ten centimeters.

The flesh inside was a mix of red and white; they’d never seen the pure, deep red that Tong Zhanyan had described.

After the leaves were burned and Tong Zhanyan had sprinkled some eggshell powder, the group helped mix it all together.

Once the soil was prepared, Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush to soak the seeds. He went back first to test the temperature and light levels, confirming the method would work before finally soaking them.

This was Tong Zhanyan’s first time growing watermelon seeds, and combined with the previous off-season struggles, it took five days for them to sprout.

By then, Tian Xinqing had already installed cameras on his new plot, and Old Xu and Old Wang had arranged for another round of harvesting.

Su Yanran not only spent all day running between the chicken coop and the pigsty but also asked him every other day when the new piglets would arrive.

With new leadership in place, they were full of energy.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections to this; after all, he didn’t have to do any of the work.

To satisfy Su Yanran, Tong Zhanyan placed an order for the piglets.

The new piglets—one male and one female—were the same size as the previous pair when they first arrived, though they hadn’t been castrated.

That made them even more aggressive.

Previously, Tong Zhanyan had been able to restrain them alone, but this time, even with both him and Su Yanran working together, they nearly got bitten.

Given how aggressive they were, Tong Zhanyan didn’t dare put them in the same pen right away. Fortunately, when he had built the pigsty earlier, he’d constructed five separate stalls, which were more than enough.

The only problem was the manure.

Manure from pigs that hadn’t yet completed their quarantine period couldn’t be put into the septic tank, so Su Yanran had to make the extra effort to carry it out and flush it down the drain.

Su Yanran didn’t mind the hard work at all; he never stopped smiling and practically wanted to move into the pigsty next door.

Tian Xinqing, Su Yanran, Old Xu, and Old Wang all had tasks to keep them busy, which made Ning Langdong seem unusually idle. Whenever he had a spare moment, he’d dash to the back gate to check on the progress of the canteen and bathhouse.

While Tong Zhanyan waited for the watermelon seeds and the soil to decompose, he received a communication request from the folks at the Paleontological Conservation Institute—the first in quite some time. They wanted to come take a look at the ants and bees.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections, though he felt a bit guilty.

He hadn’t paid any attention to the ants since that incident; he didn’t even know if they were still alive.

He hadn’t checked on the bees much since they moved either; he’d only spotted them occasionally in the fields and had no idea how many were left.

After ending the call, Tong Zhanyan immediately ran over to check.

The ant nest was gone.

To be more precise, the nest itself was still there, but the ants were clearly nowhere to be found.

Tong Zhanyan crouched down and searched the entire area, but he couldn’t find a single one. Moreover, the area around the nest looked as though no ants had been there for a long time.

Had they died?

Tong Zhanyan hurried over to check on the bees.

The bees were still alive, but since they weren’t home during the day, Tong Zhanyan only saw a small number of them.

That night, Tong Zhanyan kept mulling over how to explain the situation with the ants.

Although the other party had initially said they wouldn’t interfere, those people had worked so hard to preserve them until now.

Early the next morning, a group of people appeared at the door.

Tong Zhanyan first took them to see the bees.

The group spent over an hour taking photos and collecting samples.

The bees were in excellent condition and even showed signs of reproduction.

Tong Zhanyan was pleasantly surprised.

He was just waiting for their numbers to grow.

As for the ants, after much deliberation, the group decided to dig them up and take a look.

The situation wasn’t good—there were quite a few dead bodies inside.

The only silver lining was that they didn’t find the queen’s body.

In the end, the group speculated that the colony might have moved.

As for where they’d gone, that was hard to say—the base covered thousands of acres.

After seeing the group off, Tong Zhanyan went back to check on the bees, hoping they’d multiply quickly.

Passing by the orange grove, Tong Zhanyan took a moment to check on them as well.

His own saplings had grown quite a bit, and the old, stripped-bare stumps he’d bought from Old Xu had already sprouted.

Tong Zhanyan watered them.

A week later, Old Xu and Old Wang found him to tell him they’d run out of fertilizer.

There hadn’t been much fertilizer to begin with, and since he’d used up all the manure at once earlier, there was naturally going to be a shortage now.

The two were quite distressed, because the crops in the fields were in the fruiting stage—the time when they needed fertilizer the most.

Without fertilizer, fruit production would certainly be affected.

Moreover, since Tong Zhanyan had previously used up all the seeds for cherry radishes and bok choy, there wasn’t even any composting crop fertilizer available this time.

There was some chicken and pig manure again, but it would take at least twenty days before it was ready to use—by then, the harvest would be nearly over.

Tong Zhanyan had no choice.

Ultimately, he had to make a trade-off.

A week later, Tong Zhanyan transplanted the watermelons.

Just as he finished up, Qing Jiyue and Chu Yi arrived.

Chu Yi had already made arrangements regarding the leaves.

A total of twenty people, supervised by a fourth-year student named Dai Shuda, would deliver them to the base once every Sunday.

Since there were so many people, the school had even approved four large warehouses for him.

Qing Jiyue came over to ask about his plans for the farm stay, specifically regarding the raffle.

As for those infected with the frenzy virus, there were plenty of them on the front lines.

Tong Zhanyan had mentioned the raffle earlier but hadn’t followed up, leaving many people anxiously waiting. They’d gone to find Qing Jiyue to ask about the situation.

Qing Jiyue had been holding things back, but the cafeteria repairs were nearly finished.

He didn’t intend to interfere with Tong Zhanyan’s decision, but if any medical certificates or proof were needed, he could have those people prepare them in advance.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t given it much thought yet.

Certificates would definitely be required; his main headache was the raffle itself.

He couldn’t simply hold the raffle under the current system—that way, there’d be no way to confirm whether participants were infected, and it might even lead to exorbitant prices for entry slots.

After some thought, he called Tian Xinqing over.

Tian Xinqing was well-versed in these matters.

“Don’t you know? Green Shade updated their giveaway format last month. Now participants can submit their information in advance, get approved by the streamer to qualify, and then enter the giveaway,” Tian Xinqing said.

Tong Zhanyan was speechless.

“This was clearly designed specifically for you,” Tian Xinqing chuckled, not seeing anything unusual about it.

With the traffic in Tong Zhanyan’s livestream, even if he built his own website, the traffic would definitely be substantial.

Tong Zhanyan, still speechless, opened the backend to check and confirmed that a new filter option had indeed been added.

“Should we get started?” Tian Xinqing asked.

“Let’s open up the verification process first and prepare in advance,” Tong Zhanyan said after a moment’s thought. “Identification and a medical diagnosis from a licensed hospital—just those two for now.”

Tian Xinqing had been waiting for this all along; upon hearing this, he immediately went off to post the announcement, overjoyed.

Qing Jiyue hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.

Tong Zhanyan spoke up, “Ten spots for the general public, and ten spots for the front lines. Have the front-line personnel prepare separate IDs for combat personnel; I’ll draw them separately later.”

Qing Jiyue looked at Tong Zhanyan with a complex expression; he hadn’t actually said anything yet.

Tong Zhanyan gave a faint smile; even without Qing Jiyue saying anything, he had already planned to do just that.

In such harsh conditions, with monstrous beasts attacking frequently, anyone capable of standing on the front lines was truly remarkable to him.

They were heroes.

“Thank you,” Qing Jiyue said softly.

Tong Zhanyan looked out at the crops in the field.

They hadn’t planted enough; if there were more, things would be better.

The next day, after getting up, Tong Zhanyan was just about to take a stroll through the fields for the first time in a long while when Old Xu came over.

He’d found something in the fields.

Tong Zhanyan walked over.

In the rapeseed field, at the base of a rapeseed plant, a slender, elongated sprout was pushing its way up.

“I saw it the day before yesterday. I thought it was just another rapeseed plant, so I didn’t pay it any mind, but today I saw it had grown this big,” Old Xu asked. “Do you know what this is?”

Looking at the sprout, Tong Zhanyan felt a mix of emotions.

It’s really come a long way—we’ve even got weeds growing here now.

Tong Zhanyan reached out to pull the weed, but paused when his hand brushed against the leaf. Though he didn’t know how the seed had ended up here, he realized it hadn’t had an easy time surviving.

After a moment’s thought, Tong Zhanyan dug it up, roots and all. “Weeds.”

Old Xu froze. “Weeds? Who planted them here?”

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. “These things have incredibly strong vitality; you don’t need to go out of your way to plant them.”

Old Xu was astonished.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know weeds could grow on the ground.

The problem was that those primordial seeds released from the ancient era—even if they weren’t crops—rarely survived. At least the trees and grass along the river here at the base were barely clinging to life.

This thing has such tenacity?

Tong Zhanyan planted the weed under a tree.

After finishing, he stared at it with mixed feelings for a long while before heading to the riverbank to wash his hands.

The soil had been sterilized so thoroughly that in the year and a half he’d been in this world, he’d never once had to worry about weeds.

But it seemed his carefree days were coming to an end.

When Tong Zhanyan returned, Old Xu was just about to lead a group of people to inspect that plant.

Tong Zhanyan’s lips twitched slightly, and the next moment, he silently made his way into the fields, keeping his distance.

He currently has nearly thirty types of seeds. Not to mention the latest batch, which had just reached the flowering stage, the rest were all in the ripening phase.

The rapeseed flowers were no exception.

However, he hadn’t harvested the rapeseed flowers even once.

Tong Zhanyan had no intention of selling them. For one thing, the people outside likely wouldn’t eat them; for another, the residue left after pressing the oil made excellent fertilizer.

This was their third planting, and both their size and growth were quite good. As Tong Zhanyan walked through them, he had the illusion of wandering through a sea of flowers.

After crossing the entire field, Tong Zhanyan immediately spotted the crops belonging to Ning Langdong and the others.

As the crops in his own field became ready for harvest, they too were ripening one after another.

However, just as he had anticipated, aside from the plants tended by Old Xu and Old Wang—who had brought their own fertilizer—the rest were in pretty poor shape.

It wasn’t that they knew nothing; they were aware that in such situations, they needed to be more aggressive in pinching off flowers and leaves. But simply pinching without replanting would only result in a meager harvest at best.

Thinking of his own plot, which was already rotting, Tong Zhanyan walked over to take a look.

More than twenty days had passed, and many of the cherry radishes and baby bok choy he’d planted had rotted, turning the soil a darker shade.

Tong Zhanyan scooped up a handful and rubbed it between his fingers; the soil was noticeably looser now.

He didn’t rush to remove the plastic sheeting; he stood up and returned to the small building. Fertilizer that hadn’t fully decomposed could scorch the seedlings.

Early morning, Changkang Construction Company.

In the break room, Wang Zhengshu was just about to round up the crew to head to Senior Da Liu’s base when someone rushed in through the door.

“Boss, someone from higher-ups is here.”

Wang Zhengshu looked up. “Higher-ups?”

“From the Yan family—it looks like the young master of the Yan family.” The man who entered spoke while glancing back; behind him, Yan Zhenwen was leading a few people into the room.

Wang Zhengshu was quite surprised. “The Yan family?”

The Yan family had always been the industry leader in construction; their company sourced much of its building materials from them. But they were just a small firm—why would anyone from the Yan family come here?

“Wang Zhengshu?” Yan Zhenwen looked at the middle-aged man in front of him.

His work clothes, though washed, were still covered in construction grime; his hands were rough. At a glance, it was clear he lived a hard life.

“Yes.” Wang Zhengshu felt a bit nervous. Had something happened at the company?

“I hear you’ve been working at Senior Da Liu’s construction site lately?” Yan Zhenwen got straight to the point.

Wang Zhengshu’s anxiety faded.

He had specifically warned them not to mention their work at Senior Da Liu’s base, yet many people still knew about it.

Over the past month or so, he had lost count of how many times he’d encountered people like this.

“I’d like to discuss a business deal with you,” Yan Zhenwen said.

Wang Zhengshu replied bluntly, “I won’t let you in.”

Yan Zhenwen glanced at him. “Five million.”

Wang Zhengshu’s breath caught, and the group around him paused involuntarily.

“All you have to do is help me with one thing.”

Wang Zhengshu frowned, saying nothing.

Yan Zhenwen looked at a man standing nearby, who produced a small glass bottle containing some black powder.

“Just help me sprinkle it on the ground,” Yan Zhenwen said.

It was a long time before Wang Zhengshu found his voice again. “…What is this?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Wang Zhengshu nodded, and the very next moment, his fist struck Yan Zhenwen in the face.

One punch, two punches—it wasn’t until the third punch landed that the group inside the room snapped back to their senses.

“Young Master—”

The few people who had followed Yan Zhenwen rushed forward.

But the others in the room were faster; before they could get close to Yan Zhenwen, they were tackled to the ground themselves, followed by a barrage of punches.

Seeing this, the man who had come in earlier to deliver the message froze for a moment, then hurried toward the door. “Are you all crazy? He’s a member of the Yan family—at least close the door before you hit him.”

As he spoke, he quickly shut the door.

“What are you—uh…” Yan Zhenwen snapped out of it and tried to struggle free, but before he could finish his sentence, another solid punch landed squarely on his face.

Wang Zhengshu’s face was flushed red, and the veins on his forehead were bulging.

He didn’t know what was actually in Yan Zhenwen’s bottle, but the fact that he’d offered five million on the spot was proof enough that it wasn’t anything good.

His wife had been suffering from frenzy for several years now, and they’d agreed long ago that once she entered the deep frenzy phase, they’d give up.

He didn’t want to, but he had no choice but to accept it.

Because they still had a child.

He couldn’t burden the child.

He’d long since decided that once his wife died and the child grew up, he’d end his own life too.

He hadn’t had much education and couldn’t spout grand philosophies, but if he couldn’t even protect the person he loved—his own wife—what was the point of living?

No price gouging, reduced infection rate, discounts…

To this day, he couldn’t recall what he was thinking when he heard those announcements, because at that moment, his mind was blank.

“Boss, stop hitting him! You’re going to kill him…” After closing the door, the guide rushed over to pull him away.

Wang Zhengshu didn’t stop, because he simply couldn’t control himself. All the blood in his body was rushing to his head; he didn’t even hear what the person beside him was saying.

Those crops, Tong Zhanyan—they were his wife’s hope for survival, his family’s hope, his own hope.

He would never allow anyone to lay a finger on them.

Never.

“At least let me land a couple of blows.”

…

At the Base.

In the evening, after inspecting the watermelon seedlings, Tong Zhanyan was about to head back when he spotted a black rope on the path.

Tong Zhanyan bent down to pick it up.

Just as his fingers were about to touch the rope, it suddenly jerked to life, slithering at breakneck speed toward the field beside him before vanishing into thin air.

Caught completely off guard, every hair on Tong Zhanyan’s body stood on end in that instant.

Once he’d regained his composure, he took a couple of steps toward the field.

The field near the small house was now planted with eggplants; though the plants were heavy with fruit, there was no sign of that thing beneath them.

“What’s wrong?” Ning Langdong passed by.

“It looked like… a snake?” Tong Zhanyan wasn’t entirely sure, because it had all happened too quickly, and because the thing was so slender it didn’t quite look like a snake.

“A snake?” Ning Langdong looked puzzled.

Tong Zhanyan crouched down to look from below.

A large stretch of land nearby was completely empty.

Tong Zhanyan felt a bit bewildered. Night had already fallen, yet the small building hadn’t turned on its lights. Had he seen things?

“Maybe I saw it wrong…” Tong Zhanyan stood up. There couldn’t possibly be a snake on the base.

He slept soundly that night.

The next day, just as Tong Zhanyan had finished washing up and was about to go downstairs, Tian Xinqing rushed up the stairs. “Oh no! You have to come see this!”

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

Tian Xinqing didn’t explain right away, but led the way downstairs.

Tong Zhanyan hurried to follow.

In the field, Ning Langdong, Su Yanran, Old Xu, and Old Wang were scattered about, moving around as if searching for something.

Just as Tong Zhanyan was about to ask more, Tian Xinqing headed to the right. There, five or six eggplant plants had snapped off at the roots and lay on the ground.

They were still bearing fruit, and the sudden collapse made the fruits stand out all the more.

“The first thing I did after waking up was check the livestream. I saw a lot of people discussing it, so I hurried downstairs to take a look…” Tian Xinqing said.

Tong Zhanyan stepped forward.

The bases of the eggplants were jagged and uneven, looking as if they’d been bitten off by something.

Tong Zhanyan suddenly thought of the snake he’d seen last night.