“Are you okay?” Tian Xinqing asked sympathetically.

He had warned him, but at that moment, Tong Zhanyan was in a state where his body and dreams had merged, completely oblivious to the warning.

Tong Zhanyan slumped in his seat, only something like a soul drifting out and away.

If he remembered correctly, the Devil King’s class was scheduled for the afternoon.

Qing Jiyue watched Tong Zhanyan with mild curiosity.

Tong Zhanyan’s memory proved accurate, leaving him distracted throughout the entire lunch break.

As class began, Tong Zhanyan followed the others downstairs to the playground, already resigned to his fate.

The group lined up, each instinctively summoning their Spirit Beast.

Seeing this, Qing Jiyue summoned his as well.

Tong Zhanyan’s attention was instantly drawn.

Qing Jiyue’s spirit beast was a snow-white cub, somewhere between a young kitten and an adult tiger. Its furry head was round and large, its eyes wide and round.

Spirit Beasts were fragments of their masters’ souls. While their personalities didn’t necessarily mirror their owners’, their physical states always reflected the owner’s mental condition.

Clearly, Qing Jiyue’s inner world was rich and abundant, which explained why the little tiger looked so sturdy and robust.

Feeling the gaze, it turned its head toward Tong Zhanyan.

Noticing the gaze, Qing Jiyue glanced over and found Tong Zhanyan grinning like an idiot at his spirit beast.

He was smiling so hard his ears turned bright red, making Qing Jiyue want to stow his spirit beast away and hide it.

Tong Zhanyan was a cat lover—deeply so.

In his former world, he knew every cat at their school—the kind that would roll over and show their bellies the moment they saw him.

He didn’t know if wild cats still roamed this world, but domestic cats were nearly extinct. When he first learned this, Tong Zhanyan felt like his world had collapsed.

“First, run ten kilometers to warm up. Then we’ll do teamwork drills… Qing Jiyue.” The Devil King’s voice echoed, “If you want to go to the training room, go ahead.”

The group started walking, glancing back repeatedly. Qing Jiyue’s treatment was clearly special, yet they felt no jealousy—only admiration.

The entrance exam for Sidi Military Academy was notoriously difficult; those who made it through were no ordinary individuals.

Among them were plenty of cocky types, but that arrogance was crushed into dust by the Devil King within a week of starting school.

Right at the beginning of the term, the Devil King had a fight with them.

Initially, they were eager. How fun! With over forty of them against one, victory seemed assured.

Yet they didn’t even last ten minutes.

They quickly surrendered, but the Devil King didn’t let them off. If they wouldn’t attack, he would.

That entire class period was spent enduring a one-sided beating.

Even so, Devil King’s overall ability rating barely scraped past seven points. Qing Jiyue, however, had an officially announced rating of 9.4.

The maximum possible score was only ten points.

Qing Jiyue departed.

Tong Zhanyan’s gaze shifted from the two ears pressed back on his little tiger’s back to the Devil King’s eyes, now filled with hostility.

The others had already started running.

Tong Zhanyan’s mouth twitched violently.

The next moment, a familiar roar echoed across the field, “Tong Zhanyan—”

Daring to zone out during the Devil King’s class? The consequences were predictable.

That night, Tong Zhanyan was literally dragged back.

Fortunately, the next day was Saturday, giving Tong Zhanyan the chance to sleep in all day.

On Sunday, Tong Zhanyan performed his first pollination on the tomatoes.

When he bought them, the tomatoes had already begun sprouting flower buds. Over twenty days later, they were now covered in blossoms. Even the weakest plant had produced several flowers.

Though called pollination, Tong Zhanyan essentially just patted them gently, taking care not to harm them.

Tomatoes are hermaphroditic; with sufficient vibration, pollen from the stamens naturally transfers to the pistils.

As for flower drop, the eggshell powder proved remarkably effective. Aside from a few blossoms falling off during the first day or two after application, no further drop occurred.

It hadn’t been a major issue to begin with.

After pollination, Tong Zhanyan retired to rest.

He was alone in the dorm.

Even on weekends, Qing Jiyue didn’t pause the training.

When Tong Zhanyan went to class on Monday, his limbs still ached intermittently.

Tong Zhanyan had thought the Devil King would let off steam and move on, but instead, he went berserk for the next week, pushing them to their absolute limits.

Not just Tong Zhanyan—even Tian Xinqing and the others had legs trembling by the end of each session.

For Gu Yunyang, this week dragged on like an eternity.

Just as he’d feared, once the first blossom fell, the tomatoes he’d planted began shedding flowers en masse.

The sight of the ground blanketed in snow-white blossoms might have inspired him to recite a couple of lines of ancient poetry in admiration under different circumstances. But knowing these were the flowers of tomatoes he’d painstakingly cultivated made him want to die.

He hadn’t been idle. Nearly everyone from his lab had come to inspect the damage, even Xu Lao—the most experienced and senior member of their cultivation alliance’s second branch—had paid a visit.

But even Xu Lao, after scrutinizing the plants for a long while, could only sigh and leave with a single “Ah.”

The reason was simple: there was no cure for blossom drop. One could only wait until the flowers had shed themselves to exhaustion.

By that point, if even one-tenth of the flowers remained, it was considered fortunate. In the worst cases, large sections of the plant itself would die off.

After seeing off the curious visitors, Gu Yunyang slumped into the sofa against the wall, intending to catch up on sleep.

Though utterly exhausted, he couldn’t fall asleep after collapsing.

He hadn’t slept well the night before either.

After tossing and turning for ages with no sign of sleep, he habitually opened his terminal and scrolled through the livestream feed.

Tomatoes afflicted with flower drop disease develop exceptionally fragile connections between their blossoms and buds. Even a gentle breath could dislodge them, let alone any physical contact.

Yet pollination is essential for fruiting, requiring meticulous work on each individual flower. Who knows how many more will fall by then…

“Huh?” Just as Gu Yunyang was pondering this, his peripheral vision caught a familiar sight.

In some forgotten corner, a battered, hole-ridden flowerpot sat, its leaves and shoots severely damaged…

Over ten days had passed, and those five tomato plants had sprouted numerous new leaves—visibly larger and more vibrant than the previous ones.

What astonished Gu Yunyang wasn’t this, but the clusters of snow-white blossoms and the faintly visible tomato fruits, each about the size of a soybean, emerging behind them.

All five tomato plants had begun bearing fruit.

But how was this possible?

Hadn’t those tomatoes also suffered from blossom drop?

Had he mistaken the livestream?

Gu Yunyang immediately sat up, zooming in to examine the footage closely.

The flower pots showed signs of movement, yet he quickly located the clusters of flower buds that had previously fallen.

Fallen blossoms never regrow; only bare stems remained on the buds. Gu Yunyang even spotted the dried, rotting remains of fallen flowers in the pot with his keen eyes.

This was undoubtedly the same livestream.

But how could this be?

There were six or seven bare stems in total.

Only six or seven flowers had fallen?

Suffering from flower drop disease, and only six or seven flowers fell?

Gu Yunyang couldn’t sit still anymore. He habitually stood up and began pacing back and forth.

Had the streamer switched to new tomato plants?

That was clearly impossible. They struggled just to keep the plants alive; the odds of them producing two identical pots were minuscule.

Good luck?

That wasn’t entirely impossible. They still hadn’t figured out the blossom drop disease, so how many petals fell was entirely up to the plant itself.

When luck was on their side, it was indeed possible for only a few petals to fall before stopping.

Gu Yunyang stopped pacing back and forth. All the frustration and irritation in his heart seemed to turn sour in that moment.

Why couldn’t he get that kind of luck?

Despite the bitterness, Gu Yunyang couldn’t help glancing back at the livestream.

On screen, the five tomato plants swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling with vibrant energy.

Gu Yunyang scrolled down to the comment section, wanting to ask the streamer if they had any solutions—just in case.

Halfway through typing, Gu Yunyang deleted it.

The Blossom Drop Disease had plagued them since they restarted the seed bank, persisting for decades now. During this time, the Planting Alliance and various external research labs had exhausted countless methods, yet the problem remained unsolved.

If they themselves were helpless, what solution could this amateur possibly have?

Gu Yunyang found his own thought amusing.

Slumping back into the sofa, Gu Yunyang didn’t exit the livestream. He clicked a follow button before tossing the terminal aside, letting it play on.

Saturday, Tong Zhanyan slept like the dead.

When he awoke, daylight flooded the room, the clock having jumped to midday on the weekend.

He was alone in the dorm.

After staring blankly at the ceiling for a while, Tong Zhanyan had no choice but to get up.

If he could, he’d have loved to sleep another day, but it had been a week since he last pollinated those tomatoes, and today was also watering day.

It was common for the flower buds below the tomatoes to have already set fruit while the buds above were still sprouting, so multiple pollinations were necessary.

With effort, he shuffled to the balcony and crouched before the flower pots.

“Hm?”

Gu Yunyang, who had been sipping nutrient solution, paused his writing to look over. This was the first time he’d seen someone in his livestream.

He had a habit of leaving a live stream playing in the background while busy, and for the past two days, his stream had been dedicated to those five little tomato plants.

Tong Zhanyan weighed the pot, confirming the soil was mostly dry, then began inspecting the flower buds.

With sufficient nutrients, cherry tomatoes grew remarkably fast—from bud to thumb-sized in just a week.

A week later, those five pots certainly hadn’t disappointed him. The largest fruits were now finger-sized, while the smallest were still pinky-sized.

Cherry tomato buds grew in clusters, with fruits hanging on the same branch.

Tong Zhanyan had pruned each plant to retain only three or four flower buds per branch. While not quite matching the bountiful branches he remembered, they still carried a hint of that abundant harvest vibe.

Meanwhile, a new batch of flowers had already bloomed.

The camera didn’t capture the streamer’s face, remaining fixed on the tomatoes—likely due to anti-recording settings.

Not seeing the person, Gu Yunyang felt a bit disappointed, but he could tell Tong Zhanyan was quite satisfied with the fruits.

He would be satisfied too.

After the inspection, Tong Zhanyan began pollinating the plants in a good mood.

Gu Yunyang took a sip of the nutrient solution, just as Tong Zhanyan raised his hand and began flapping at the tomatoes with a series of sharp slaps.

“Pfft…” Gu Yunyang sprayed the entire mouthful of nutrient solution out.

Ignoring the now-soiled table, Gu Yunyang immediately looked back over.

Tong Zhanyan moved from one pot to the next, fanning all five in one go. As if still not satisfied, he pulled the two healthiest pots closer to himself, adjusting them to a more comfortable angle before resuming his flapping.

In that instant, Gu Yunyang nearly cursed out loud.

The very plants he treasured like precious jewels, holding them in his hands without daring to breathe heavily—Tong Zhanyan was casually fanning them for fun?

What the hell was wrong with Tong Zhanyan?