Chapter Bonanza (5/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Tong Zhanyan didn’t dwell on it. Once he returned, he called Old Xu, Yang Hong, and the others back from the fields, then had them bring out the seedling trays from the warehouse and fill them with soil.

Growing seedlings takes time, but clearing the land isn’t quite as urgent.

The tiller is still in the experimental phase; I don’t know if it’ll be ready in time.

Even if it didn’t, with so many people now, it wouldn’t be a big problem.

Old Xu and his group weren’t new to this; they got to work without him having to say a word.

The newcomers from the recent lottery had only just started eating the crops with reduced infection rates and were at risk of sudden outbursts, so Tong Zhanyan didn’t call on them to help for the time being.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t go to help either; instead, he went back inside, grabbed a pen and a notebook, and began studying the soil and seeds.

With such a large scale and so many seeds, he couldn’t just plant wherever he pleased—he needed a concrete plan.

This time, both the soil and the seeds would undergo a major overhaul.

First, the soil: cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and eggplants had already been planted several times in this current plot, so their locations all needed to be changed.

Second, because the infection rate was stuck at 20%, he didn’t plan to plant any low-infection-rate seeds this time.

Of course, soybeans, peanuts, and red clover were exceptions.

The seeds that previously had high infection rates have now mostly passed through the first three stages of seed cultivation and are ready for large-scale planting.

They will be the main focus of this planting season.

In addition to these, Tong Zhanyan plans to expand the area for cherry radishes and baby bok choy from four plots of 100 square meters each to four plots of 200 square meters each.

This way, there will be a new harvest every week.

The infection rates for cherry radishes, bok choy, and radishes have plateaued—even Yang Hong and the others can’t eat them anymore. The main reason for expanding and continuing to grow them is to feed the chickens and pigs and to produce compost.

Expanding by twenty mu all at once means the existing crop seedlings and the chicken and pig manure on the farm simply won’t be enough.

Once the cherry radishes, radishes, and bok choy are planted, the number of chickens and pigs can be increased as needed.

It will take another six months or so for the sows to give birth—or should we buy some more?

We can start saving up the eggs, though…

After spending over an hour sorting everything out, Tong Zhanyan let out a long sigh of relief.

Everything was in a virtuous cycle; everything was slowly getting better.

With so many people working hard and no one slacking off, by the time Tong Zhanyan went back outside, the ground was already covered with a large area of seedling trays filled with soil.

Tong Zhanyan joined in.

That night, Tong Zhanyan put the chickens back in their coop.

He hadn’t seen any earthworms in a long time—he wasn’t sure if they’d gone extinct—but the chicken manure still needed to be collected.

Exhausted from the day’s work, Tong Zhanyan fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow that night.

The next morning, the first thing Tong Zhanyan did after waking up was to soak some of the pumpkin seeds.

He planned to plant the pumpkins, corn, and sweet potatoes in the plot by the front gate.

These were the three crops he needed most at the moment, and that plot was the most fertile.

Two days later, as soon as the pumpkin seeds were sown, Old Xu and Old Wang hurried over to help with the harvest.

After this harvest, many of the crops in the field had already borne no more fruit, so after picking them, they pulled up the plants as well.

Tong Zhanyan also took this opportunity to remove the plastic sheeting from the plot where he had planted green manure.

Although the soil had become more fertile, the cherry radishes and baby bok choy hadn’t changed much.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t disappointed; no matter how he grew them, the bok choy simply couldn’t turn into giant bok choy.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush to have them appraised either.

When watering, Tong Zhanyan mixed in some manure.

He didn’t keep the ratio at the minimum; instead, he used the ratio that was more commonly used in his previous world.

Old Xu and the others watched with a heavy heart.

Rationally, they understood what Tong Zhanyan was doing, but if he kept using fertilizer at this rate, there wouldn’t be enough for the next crop.

They were all his own “children,” and Tong Zhanyan was like an extremely biased parent.

After the pumpkins came the corn, followed by yardlong beans, carrots, Chinese cabbage, chili peppers, cucumbers, eggplants, large tomatoes, strawberries…

Tong Zhanyan didn’t bother with seedling propagation for the rapeseed; the seeds were too small to be separated by plant.

Half a month later, when everyone’s necks were so stiff they could barely lift their heads, the last batch of seeds was finally sown.

Tong Zhanyan gave the others three days off.

Half a month of nonstop work had left everyone on the verge of breaking down. Upon hearing about the break, the group left the base that very night.

Some went back to the Planting Alliance to check on things, while others headed to school.

Ning Langdong, however, didn’t leave.

He went to the back gate.

He’d been too busy lately to pay much attention to the people back there—that was a dereliction of duty—so as soon as he had a moment, he hurried over to check on them.

After resting for a day, Tong Zhanyan began inspecting the cherry radishes and bok choy in the field where green manure had been planted.

They were already ripe.

Qing Jiyue must have seen it in the livestream and came over to help.

He brought Gu Yinfeng along.

This wasn’t the first time Tong Zhanyan had seen Gu Yinfeng, but it was the first time they’d officially interacted.

Gu Yinfeng’s personality matched the impression he gave—he had a gentle, soft-spoken demeanor.

Tong Zhanyan paired the two of them together, assigning them to collect samples from the field while he conducted the evaluation inside the house.

Qing Jiyue didn’t come to help as often as Yang Hong and the others, but he still came regularly, and collecting samples wasn’t difficult.

For Gu Yinfeng, however, it was his first time.

Qing Jiyue spent some time teaching him.

Half an hour later, Qing Jiyue came in carrying the first tray of samples.

Tong Zhanyan took them and began the analysis.

Qing Jiyue didn’t leave but instead brought up the matter of the tests.

He planned to have Yang Hong and the other four stop eating the crops with reduced infection rates.

Once the frenzy reaches Stage Three, very few people survive beyond six months. Yet Yang Hong and the other four had been in this state for half a year and were still in remarkably good condition; in fact, for the past month, they hadn’t even experienced that sensation of emotional instability.

This was a good thing.

Qing Jiyue mainly wanted to determine whether the crops were merely suppressing the condition or actually treating it—the two were very different.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections.

After speaking, Qing Jiyue still didn’t leave.

Tong Zhanyan, who had already placed the samples into the machine, was about to ask if there was anything else when he noticed a little tiger had appeared at his feet at some point.

The corners of Tong Zhanyan’s mouth curled upward involuntarily.

The little tiger’s ears immediately flattened back.

Tong Zhanyan’s smile stretched almost to his ears. He reached out—

Gu Yinfeng walked in carrying a tray of tubing. “This one’s ready, too.”

Tong Zhanyan took it and then focused intently on the machine in front of him.

The little tiger’s flattened ears perked back up; it visibly let out a sigh of relief.

Qing Jiyue, however, furrowed his brows, a hint of confusion lingering in his expression.

Gu Yinfeng was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“You can pet it.” Qing Jiyue looked at Tong Zhanyan.

Tong Zhanyan nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. Why did Qing Jiyue’s words sound so strange?

Gu Yinfeng was even more confused. “What?”

“He’s talking about his Spirit Beast,” Tong Zhanyan hurried to explain. “I think it’s cute—it looks like a cat.”

Gu Yinfeng looked down.

The little tiger looked up at him, too.

…It was kind of cute.

Gu Yinfeng smiled at Qing Jiyue.

Although it was indeed cute, offering up his Spirit Beast for someone else to pet—that really didn’t seem like something Qing Jiyue would do.

Qing Jiyue ignored Gu Yinfeng, staring blankly at Tong Zhanyan. Earlier, Tong Zhanyan had clearly looked like he really wanted to pet it.

Was it because of Gu Yinfeng?

But when Ning Langdong and the others were present, Tong Zhanyan hadn’t hidden anything either.

The appraisal results came back quickly.

The moment he saw them, Tong Zhanyan slowly exhaled.

The infection rate had indeed decreased.

Out of a hundred samples, most had infection rates around 20%, but three batches were at 18% and 19%.

Compared to the previous rates, which were often as high as 10%, this reduction wasn’t huge, but even this small drop was enough.

Tong Zhanyan handed the test results to Qing Jiyue. “Yang Hong and the others can keep eating the other crops for now. These should go to your grandfather and the others first.”

Given his current circumstances, unless he steeled himself to cut down all the other crops for green manure and prioritized future fertilizer for the land used for green manure, there wouldn’t be many crops with infection rates below 20% in the short term.

Qing Jiyue’s expression softened noticeably. “Alright.”

Just as Qing Jiyue was about to say something else, Tong Zhanyan handed him the testing tray. “Collect another sample.”

Qing Jiyue had no choice but to go out.

Gu Yinfeng was the last to receive the test report.

After reading it, he didn’t go out but looked at Tong Zhanyan instead.

Over a year had passed, and Tong Zhanyan was completely different from when they first met. The emaciation caused by malnutrition had long since vanished, replaced by a gentle, composed demeanor.

“What’s wrong?” Tong Zhanyan felt a chill run down his spine under the intense gaze.

“What do you think of Qing Jiyue?” Gu Yinfeng asked.

Tong Zhanyan froze. Why was Gu Yinfeng suddenly asking him this?

“I’m just a little curious,” Gu Yinfeng said. “Qing Jiyue mentions you often.”

Tong Zhanyan’s breath caught, and he instinctively looked away. “Reliable, proactive—a great friend.”

“A friend, huh…” Gu Yinfeng’s expression turned peculiar.

He suddenly understood what Qing Jiyue meant by “let me pet you” just now. So Qing Jiyue was still pining for him?

In the field.

Qing Jiyue crouched down, face-to-face with his Spirit Beast.

“Meow.”

The Spirit Beast remained expressionless.

Qing Jiyue poked its soft, furry forehead. “Meow, hurry up.”

The Spirit Beast glanced at its own paw pads, pondering the possibility of smacking the person in front of it.

Maybe a tap would help?

With the appraisal results in, Tong Zhanyan immediately pulled up four portions of cherry radishes and baby bok choy for Qing Jiyue to take back.

Two days later, Tian Xinqing and the others returned.

By then, the earliest planted pumpkins were ready for transplanting, and the crops in the field were ready to be harvested.

The group, who had only just begun to recover, couldn’t help but grimace.

Transplanting, in particular, was even more troublesome than sowing.

But the headache had to be dealt with, so early the next morning, they got to work.

Tong Zhanyan instructed Ning Langdong to bring over the twenty people who had been selected in the lottery.

More than twenty days had passed; they were no longer as excited as they had been at the start, and with the crops under control, the situation had stabilized somewhat.

Tong Zhanyan entrusted them entirely to Ning Langdong.

Together with Yang Hong and the guards, the group of over eighty people got to work.

At noon, the tillers arrived.

Seeing the machine in person, the large excavator looked even bigger than in the photos; climbing into the driver’s seat required ascending several steps.

The propeller trailing behind it looked even more intimidating.

Tong Zhanyan gave it a try; the propeller was incredibly powerful and could dig down to about 2.5 meters if needed.

The excavated soil wasn’t too fine; clumps the size of basketballs were scattered all over the ground.

Tong Zhanyan then tried the smaller model.

The smaller tiller also had a row of small augers at the back, but it was only about the size of a standard pickup truck, with a digging depth of just around 50 centimeters.

The soil it dug up was very fine, perfectly compensating for the larger machine’s shortcomings. It even had a certain soil-mixing effect, making it suitable for mixing with plant ash.

With this new addition, Ning Langdong, Yang Hong, and the others were brimming with curiosity, vying to give it a try, while Old Xu and Old Wang wore expressions of mixed emotions.

Carefully planting the seeds—it felt like it had only happened yesterday in their memories, yet in the blink of an eye, Tong Zhanyan was already using a machine to dig the soil.

The viewers in the livestream were also feeling rather conflicted.

“……I feel like crying.”

“We have bees for pollination, the guys from the Backdoor for harvesting and planting, and now even a machine for digging…”

“I feel like we’re completely unnecessary.”

“Waaah…”

“I feel like Senior hasn’t personally watched the livestream in ages. Has he forgotten about us?”

“Are they going to stop giving away prizes altogether from now on?”

“It feels like we’re really going to be abandoned.”

…

There were too many people, so each could only play for a short while. By the time the remaining patch of land had been cleared, the group was still not ready to stop.

Tong Zhanyan simply had them mix in plant ash and eggshell powder as well—it was perfect for sowing rapeseed.

The group immediately perked up.

Tong Zhanyan shook his head helplessly.

In his previous world, even planting and harvesting had been mechanized to a certain extent.

However, both processes came with a certain amount of waste, and given his current situation, he couldn’t even think about that in the short term.

The next day, Ning Langdong and the others continued with their mock planting, while Tong Zhanyan sowed the rapeseed.

Since he’d started farming, he hadn’t sold a single batch of rapeseed. Plus, rapeseed was naturally prolific, so he already had a large crate full of seeds.

Tong Zhanyan called on the Devil King and his digging squad. After spending some time digging rows of furrows across the nearly five mu of land in the farthest corner, he proceeded to broadcast the seeds directly into the rows.

Watering took Tong Zhanyan a good half-afternoon, using the water hose.

That also reminded Tong Zhanyan that he needed to set up an irrigation system.

His previous crops had mostly been planted, bloomed, and borne fruit simultaneously, so the periods when they needed watering and when they didn’t could generally be coordinated, making the rainwater system sufficient.

But as the variety and scale of his crops expanded, the planting cycles of many crops gradually shifted out of sync, making the rainwater system alone insufficient.

Since the soil hadn’t been fully conditioned yet, fixed irrigation systems—whether underground or above ground—were out of the question at this stage. He decided to start with a simplified version.

He contacted the team that had previously developed the tiller, explained the principle of a mobile automatic sprinkler system to them, and, after confirming they could develop it, placed an order for two hundred units.

In addition to the sprinklers, Tong Zhanyan also inquired about water pumps, hoping to customize one that could be remotely controlled, scheduled to turn on and off, and capable of tracking water usage.

The switch on the water pump he’d bought earlier was built into the machine itself, so someone had to stay by the river to operate it.

With more people around now, it wasn’t a big deal, but they couldn’t keep doing it that way forever.

Since the water pumps were already available, all Tong Zhanyan needed was to add a control system—a simple modification. The team agreed readily.

Tong Zhanyan paid a deposit.

Half a month later, just as all the crops had finally been transplanted and the first batch was ready to be moved to the fields, Tong Zhanyan received the shipment.

He tested it immediately.

The water pump was placed right next to the old one.

The sprinklers were connected in series with hoses and temporarily secured to the ground.

Once all the sprinklers were connected, Tong Zhanyan remotely turned on the water pump.

Spray arms about waist-high began spraying water one by one from the spot closest to the riverbank, until the entire rapeseed field was covered.

The rapeseed had already sprouted, and it was time to water them again.

Once he confirmed it worked, Tong Zhanyan went to attend to other tasks.

Ning Langdong and his group, however, gathered around to watch the spectacle for quite some time.

In theory, this sprinkler system could also be used for fertilizing, but he was currently severely short on fertilizer and couldn’t afford to waste any, so he didn’t consider it.

Tong Zhanyan drew the short straw for the transplanting shift: fifty people for two days.

They already had over eighty people on the team; adding fifty more brought the total to over one hundred and thirty. Two days would be more than enough to plant most of the crops.

As for what couldn’t be finished or wasn’t yet ready for planting, the remaining eighty people would be sufficient.

While everyone was busy transplanting, Tong Zhanyan also took care of the remaining crop seedlings in the field.

They had been harvesting those crops on and off for nearly two months, and by now there was very little left—perfect for clearing space to plant new crops.

Tong Zhanyan also dug up the sweet potatoes.

They were already ripe.

This was their second planting; the next time, they could be propagated by cuttings, and Tong Zhanyan had already set aside the space in advance.

Ten days later, when most of the crops were in the ground, Tong Zhanyan harvested the soybeans, peanuts, and purple vetch for seed.

He had only fifty seeds of each variety—and just thirty soybean plants—so Tong Zhanyan managed to finish the work all by himself.

Since he had sown fifty seeds in the first round, the seed yield from each variety was quite substantial at harvest time.

Tong Zhanyan planted them all in seedling trays.

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished, Ning Langdong and the others had just finished transplanting their crops.

In the evening, just as Tong Zhanyan was about to wash his hands and call it a day, Ning Langdong and a few others came to find him.

They led him into the cornfield and pointed to a spot, asking him to take a look.

There, a weed had quietly grown to about ten centimeters tall.

“Is that a weed, not corn?” Old Xu wasn’t quite sure.

“It’s a weed.”

With his suspicion confirmed, Old Xu pulled out a small trowel from somewhere and was about to transplant the little weed over to the woods.

“Just pull it out,” Tong Zhanyan said.

He had chosen to transplant it last time because he’d been quite moved when he first saw it, but now it was nothing but a headache.

Weeds are a peculiar thing—when they start growing, they usually just keep going on and on.

Everyone turned to look, including Old Xu.

“It’s just a weed.”

The group exchanged glances.

It was indeed just a weed, but it was a weed from ancient times.

Tong Zhanyan found it amusing.

Thinking it over, he said nothing more.

Let them enjoy it—they’d soon get to experience what it’s like to pull weeds until their hands went numb.

Later that day, Tong Zhanyan received a message from the Ancient Species Conservation Institute; they wanted to come take a look at the bees.

When they’d visited last time, the bees had already shown signs of breeding.

Tong Zhanyan agreed.

The process of transplanting and relocating the plants had kept Ning Langdong and his group busy for two or three months straight, leaving them thoroughly exhausted. Since the farming season was about to end, Tong Zhanyan gave them a ten-day break.

Old Xu and Old Wang returned to the Planting Alliance.

Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran headed back to school, and this time Ning Langdong went along with them.

The small house fell silent immediately.

Two days later, in the orange grove.

“She’s given birth! She’s given birth!”

“Wonderful!”

“How’s the queen? Is she okay?”

Listening to the ecstatic voices of those few people and seeing their reddened, tear-filled eyes, Tong Zhanyan felt as if he were standing outside a hospital delivery room.

“She’s doing pretty well. We estimate there are… over three thousand new bees…”

Tong Zhanyan perked up.

The bees were doing well; during the breeding season, they could produce five hundred to two thousand bees a day. To have only reached just over three thousand after all this time was pitifully few, but compared to the previous two hundred, it was already quite good.

If they continued breeding, they should be able to reach over ten thousand.

Full pollination was not far off.

The others were also taken aback.

They’d been raising these creatures for a long time. The fully mutated ones reproduced rapidly, but the unmutated ones couldn’t produce even five hundred in a year, no matter how carefully they were tended.

And now, over three thousand?

“That many?”

“That pollen really works…”

“That’s wonderful.”

As they spoke, their voices choked with emotion.

Tong Zhanyan silently took a step back.

The moment he moved, the group noticed him.

The next instant, they all rushed toward him, showering him with endless words of gratitude.

They were so enthusiastic and emotional—their hoarse voices and reddened eyes making it seem as though he had done something truly monumental.

Tong Zhanyan forced a smile.

In fact, aside from the brief moment when he’d just brought them back for testing, he’d mostly forgotten he even kept a colony of these creatures.

He’d even lost track of the ants.

By the time he saw them off, Tong Zhanyan’s face ached from smiling so much.

On the way back to the small building, Tong Zhanyan began to wonder whether he should bring over the other beneficial insects from the research institute as well.

An ecosystem isn’t something that can be established in a day or two, so if conditions permit, one must prepare in advance.

With Ning Langdong and the others gone, the small building suddenly fell silent, and Tong Zhanyan found it rather unsettling.

He opened his terminal and checked in on Ning Langdong and the others.

Ning Langdong was already preparing to return.

Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran, however, planned to stay at school for a few more days; coincidentally, the rest of their class had just finished their field training and were also on campus.

Most of the semester had passed, and Tong Zhanyan had only been there twice. Thinking about it, he decided to go to the school to take a look.

After saying goodbye to Ning Langdong and the others, Tong Zhanyan got up to pack his things.

As he was heading downstairs, Qing Jiyue contacted him.

Qing Jiyue was also heading to school, so they would go together.

Tong Zhanyan pulled up a small stool and sat in front of the door to wait.

The crops in the fields had already passed the seedling establishment stage and were growing tall under the sun, a sight that was quite soothing to behold.

Half an hour later, Qing Jiyue arrived.

Also present were Devil King, Chu Yi, Yang Hong, and Gu Yinfeng.

The Devil King and the others were one thing, but why was Yang Hong tagging along?

Tong Zhanyan got into the car with the Devil King and Chu Yi.

Outside the gate, three black vans were already waiting.

Two of them were already packed with people—all young and strong, clearly capable fighters.

Seeing those men, Tong Zhanyan finally realized that the Devil King and his crew weren’t heading back to school—they were here to serve as his bodyguards.

The infection rate issue was one thing, but crop losses were a matter that tangibly affected the livelihoods of many people.

And when people are pushed to the brink, they’re capable of anything.

He’d been holed up at the base all day and hadn’t even been watching the livestream much lately, so he hadn’t really given it much thought.

Suddenly reminded of it, suddenly remembering, his mood couldn’t help but sink a little.

For a split second, he even considered turning around and heading back to the base.

As the car drove through the city and he saw those familiar streets, Tong Zhanyan realized he really hadn’t been out in a long time.

Especially when passing the street where Mr. Bai’s shop was located, he felt as if a whole lifetime had passed.

When they arrived at the school, it was right at the end of the first afternoon class.

Having learned from last time, Tong Zhanyan was hesitating whether to wait until the bell rang before going in, but Devil King and Chu Yi had already started walking toward the school.

The school was relatively safer than the outside.

Not wanting to cause them any trouble, Tong Zhanyan had no choice but to quicken his pace to catch up.

Almost the moment he stepped through the school gates, people around him began staring at him one after another.

Tong Zhanyan immediately had a bad feeling.

And just as he’d feared, as more and more people recognized him, the entire crowd on the playground quickly began moving toward them, and even people in the school buildings were peering out.

Recalling the last time he’d been surrounded, Tong Zhanyan regretted leaving the house even more.

At the same time, he noticed something different.

Last time, most of the onlookers were first-year freshmen, but this time it seemed that students from the second, third, and fourth grades, as well as school staff, had all come out.

This made the path ahead of him even more completely blocked.

Tong Zhanyan looked to the Devil King beside him for help; it was time for him to show his true power.

The Devil King put on a completely different face the moment he stepped onto campus.

Seeing this, his expression darkened, and his eyes narrowed; he took a step forward, ready to reprimand them.

But the words died on his lips.

Tong Zhanyan was taken aback. Had the Devil King eaten too much bad food and lost his mind?

Just as Tong Zhanyan was puzzling over this, the crowd blocking his path—who had gathered to gawk at the spectacle—instinctively stepped back, clearing a path for him.

Their eyes didn’t hold the same curious excitement they’d shown the last time they saw a big star; many had reddened eyes, and some even had tears in them.

Among them were those whose family members or friends had been infected and taken over by frenzy, yet they were at an age where they felt utterly powerless.

If the drop in infection rates had merely offered them a distant glimmer of hope, then this price reduction placed that hope right before everyone’s eyes, within their grasp.

Facing those pairs of bloodshot eyes, Tong Zhanyan’s footsteps faltered for a moment.

He was at a loss.

His mind went completely blank.

A hand pressed against his back, gently yet firmly pushing him forward. “You don’t have to do anything. Just keep walking forward as you did before.”

Tong Zhanyan looked up—it was Qing Jiyue.

Tong Zhanyan’s taut nerves slowly relaxed.

He curved his lips into a faint smile as he looked at the people around him, then, just as Qing Jiyue had said, he kept moving forward.

The Devil King and the others escorted him into the dormitory building.

They didn’t come up with him but waited downstairs.

Ning Langdong and the others returned quickly.

Qing Jiyue was also in the dormitory.

Tong Zhanyan sat on the bed that belonged to him but where he had never once slept, his face still showing signs of shock.

They had treated him like a celebrity before, but now…

Tong Zhanyan would have preferred things to stay as they were before.

Ning Langdong and the others saw this and couldn’t help but smile wryly.

They’d had a feeling all along that Tong Zhanyan seemed completely unaware of just how remarkable his actions had been.

Since he couldn’t go to class, Tong Zhanyan stayed at school for only two or three hours before quickly leaving during class time.

He crossed the street and entered the base again.

Tong Zhanyan felt as though the air had suddenly become fresher.

Ning Langdong returned with him, and once back, he headed toward the back gate to check on the people under his care.

Tong Zhanyan pulled up a small stool and sat under the eaves, quietly watching the crops thriving before him.

His heart calmed along with them.

That night, Ning Langdong told him he wanted to move to the back.

This place was too far from the back; if anything happened to those people, it would take him quite a while to get there.

Fortunately, the staff dormitory at the back had just been renovated.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections.

Since it was a staff dormitory, Tong Zhanyan had it built as a small two-bedroom apartment; it would certainly be more comfortable than the small single room in the small building if they were to move in.

There were many rooms, and Ning Langdong chose one on the second floor.

Ning Langdong didn’t have much stuff, so Tong Zhanyan helped him make two trips, and they were done.

When it came to unpacking, Ning Langdong declined Tong Zhanyan’s help.

After watching from the doorway for a while, Tong Zhanyan decided to head downstairs.

His prison-style single luxury dorm was completely empty, and the area in front of the small building was deserted as well.

Tong Zhanyan made his way around the back of the mountain.

Qing Jiyue’s grandfather and the other three were locked up over there.

As he rounded the base of the mountain, he indeed spotted a group of people staring at a colossal beast inside one of the cages.

Tong Zhanyan walked over.

Qing Jiyue was trying to communicate with the figure inside the cage.

The man had the form of a hunting dog; he seemed somewhat dazed, shaking his head incessantly.

Tong Zhanyan had seen people in a state of deep frenzy before—they would attack at the slightest provocation—but this man was different.

As more people gathered around, a constant thudding sound came from one of the three adjacent cages, while angry growls could be heard from the other two.

“If you understand, raise your right paw.”

The hound did not raise its paw, but looked at them instead.

“Raise your right paw,” Yang Hong repeated loudly, raising his own right hand at the same time.

This time, the hound seemed to understand and raised its paw slightly.

Yang Hong and his group immediately broke into ecstatic smiles.

Before they could fully smile, the hound seemed to be in pain, whimpering as it kept banging against the cage.

The person in another cage nearby was making a commotion; once he started, the people in the other two cages followed suit.

Qing Jiyue looked worriedly at the cage where his grandfather was held and quickly urged the others to leave.

Both his grandfather and Ning Langdong’s mother had been imprisoned for a long time and were very weak; they couldn’t withstand any more turmoil.

After the chaos subsided, in front of the small building.

“He became like this in the shortest amount of time among the four of them; he’d only been like that for a little over ten days when he was brought in,” Qing Jiyue said.

“Is this useful?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

Qing Jiyue really wanted to nod, but he shook his head instead. “At this stage, we can’t be certain. It’s very likely just a coincidence.”

Yang Hong’s lips parted; he felt that the man had understood, but he didn’t actually say anything.

This wasn’t something that could be decided based on a hunch.

Tong Zhanyan looked at Yang Hong and the others. “What about them?”

Yang Hong and the others had stopped eating the crops with reduced infection rates a month ago.

The expressions on the faces of those who had been deep in thought just a moment ago quickly turned grim.

“As long as they keep eating it, there’s no problem, but as soon as they stop, that situation starts up again,” Qing Jiyue confirmed Tong Zhanyan’s suspicion.

If it’s merely suppression, then none of this makes any sense.

A wry smile involuntarily appeared on Yang Hong’s face.

They had originally held high hopes, but never expected it to amount to nothing in the end.

Tong Zhanyan thought for a moment, then said with a smile, “If there’s no problem as long as you keep eating it, and if we can completely suppress the infection—well, rounding it off, doesn’t that mean you’re practically cured already?”

Qing Jiyue and the others were taken aback for a moment, then all turned to look.

Tong Zhanyan said, “We’ve managed to grow crops successfully, and we’ve found a way to lower the infection rate. This base will likely be fully planted before long, and I see many people outside are starting to grow them too…”

“As long as more people start growing them and prices drop, it’s not impossible for everyone to make crops their main staple at every meal, right?”

“If that happens, wouldn’t it be the same as everyone being cured?”

After a pause, fearing they might not grasp the concept, Tong Zhanyan added, “Just like drinking nutrient solution.”

Qing Jiyue and the others exchanged glances.

“Every single meal?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Long-term? Non-stop?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“…How much would we have to grow? And how low would the price have to be?” Yang Hong tried to picture it, but couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

Although their numbers were small now, there were still tens of millions of people. If tens of millions of people ate every meal every day—and ate their fill…

Wouldn’t that mean planting crops everywhere inside the protective shield, including the streets?

And although they had free food and lodging here, in reality, outside the base, many people were still buying it for hundreds of yuan per gram—or even selling everything they owned to afford it.

Tong Zhanyan thought for a moment and quoted a vegetable price from his former world: “Two per jin?”

“Two…” Yang Hong choked on his words, getting the eerie feeling that Tong Zhanyan was making fun of them.

Tong Zhanyan said, “As long as we improve the soil, we can still boost yields a bit. Though, without wheat or rice, it’s definitely a hassle…”

In fact, in his former world, farmers were lucky to sell their produce for fifty cents; the two-yuan price in supermarkets mostly went to the distributors.

The group stared silently at Tong Zhanyan, as if he were having some absurd dream.

With yields this low, how could they possibly increase?

Tong Zhanyan knew Yang Hong and the others wouldn’t believe him anyway, so he simply stopped talking. “I’m heading back.”

With that, he walked toward the utility vehicle parked nearby.

Watching Tong Zhanyan’s retreating figure, the group in the courtyard in front of the small building remained motionless for a long time.

Not until Tong Zhanyan’s figure had completely vanished at the foot of the distant mountain.

“Two yuan a pound for the crops… do you believe it?” Yang Hong asked.

“No,” Tang Shijin answered without a moment’s hesitation, but after speaking, her lips parted again and again.

She didn’t believe it—not one bit.

Yet for some reason, knowing that the one who said it was Tong Zhanyan, she found herself…

The group exchanged glances, each seeing the same conflicting emotions in the others’ eyes.

None of them believed it.

If anyone else had said it, they might have called the other person crazy.

But when the one speaking was Tong Zhanyan, they all found themselves unable to resist… wanting to believe.