Chapter Bonanza (9/10)

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The watermelons were grown from seeds from the previous batch. He had bought a few from Mr. Bai with an infection rate of around 45%, and later purchased some from the Alliance with a 10% infection rate.

Since the seasons differed and he had never planted them before—this was his first time—the infection rates varied.

When the two of them arrived, the sun was setting brilliantly, the overhead lights had automatically turned off, and the temperature in the area was dropping.

For watermelons to be sweet, aside from the variety, there are two other crucial factors.

First, there can’t be too much rain, so the starch can convert into sugar.

Second, there needs to be a significant temperature difference between day and night. In cooler conditions, the crop’s respiration slows down, preventing sugar from being consumed and making it easier to store.

Leaving the eggs and oil in the car, Tong Zhanyan got out and headed toward the field.

Compared to pumpkin leaves, watermelon leaves aren’t as large. Plus, since this was his first time growing them, the foliage was quite sparse, making the watermelons—each about thirty to forty centimeters long—stand out clearly in the field.

Tong Zhanyan walked around, selected the four that had bloomed and set fruit first, tapped them to confirm they were ripe, and picked them.

Qing Jiyue followed him over and was looking down at the watermelons.

He hadn’t seen the watermelons grown by Old Xu and the others, but he had seen pictures of them.

In his mind, watermelons were only about ten centimeters in size.

The ones Tong Zhanyan had here were absolute behemoths.

Tong Zhanyan handed two of them to him and carried the other two himself.

“Too bad we don’t have any ice,” Tong Zhanyan said as he walked toward the car. Fresh watermelons and chilled watermelons were two completely different things.

Although Qing Jiyue didn’t understand what Tong Zhanyan was up to, he suggested, “We could have someone deliver some.”

Tong Zhanyan thought about it, then dismissed the idea.

It was the first time Qing Jiyue and the others had ever eaten this, and since temperatures elsewhere—apart from this plot of land—ranged from fifteen to twenty-five degrees, he was genuinely worried that serving them chilled might cause them health issues.

By the time the two reached the back door, Yang Hong and the rest of the group had already gathered there.

Some were holding cucumbers, some were cradling cherry tomatoes, some were carrying cabbages, and some had handfuls of string beans…

Tong Zhanyan got out of the car, had Qing Jiyue carry the watermelon to the kitchen first, and then asked the others to hand over the produce they were holding so he could see how much there was.

With over eighty people, even if each had picked only a little, the total was already quite substantial.

Tong Zhanyan casually picked out a few people to wash and chop the vegetables, while he rolled up his sleeves to prepare the rest.

He intended to show them just how potent chili peppers could be.

He grew plenty of chili peppers in his fields, but they were the slowest-selling of all his crops. The reason was simple: they didn’t taste good.

As for why they didn’t taste good, Tong Zhanyan could figure it out with his toes—because these people simply boiled them in water and ate them straight.

The last gathering had gone well, so Tian Xinqing brought a camera along this time too. Seeing Tong Zhanyan head into the kitchen, he followed to lend a hand.

Hand-shredded Chinese cabbage, dry-fried yardlong beans, braised eggplant, fried eggs, tomato, and egg drop soup, steamed cornbread…

Finally, there was the post-meal fruit—watermelon sliced into three-finger-wide pieces—and some cherry tomatoes.

Tong Zhanyan was swamped with work.

The live stream chat was also in an uproar.

“Another day of being deeply wounded.”

“I’ve already downed two bags of nutritional supplements, but why do I still feel so hungry?”

“You can still drink it? I can’t stand that stuff at all right now…”

“Forget about farming—why does it feel like the streamer is also a great cook?”

“So chili peppers aren’t just for eating raw? Is this how they’re used?”

…

“There are so many people out there who can’t even get enough to eat, yet the streamer is leading people in feasting every day. Plus, there are plenty of people in there who haven’t even been infected by the frenzy—isn’t that a bit wrong?”

“What’s wrong with that? I feel bad for the crops, too, but the streamer grew them himself. How he chooses to eat them is his own business, isn’t it?”

“It’s not like he eats them every day. This is only the second time so far.”

“Why are some people never satisfied?”

…

Tong Zhanyan was bustling about, but in reality, the only things he could eat were eggs and watermelon.

Watching everyone else eat, he went to the back door with his plate as usual.

He had barely sat down when the back door opened.

Qing Jiyue came out.

Sitting down next to Tong Zhanyan, Qing Jiyue handed him his portion of fried eggs and watermelon; he knew Tong Zhanyan wouldn’t eat crops with an infection rate over 20%.

There wasn’t much of either, especially the watermelon—each person had only been given a single slice.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t taken any extras either.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t take it. “Won’t you try some?”

There were only a few watermelon plants in total, and they’d left just one or two flowers on each. Picking four at once meant there wouldn’t be many more chances to eat them.

“It’s delicious.” Qing Jiyue knew that without even tasting it.

Seeing the bright red flesh of the watermelon, the crowd in the cafeteria was buzzing with excitement.

“Will you give it back to me then?” Tong Zhanyan asked with a smile.

Under the night sky, they sat with their backs to the light, so only half of Tong Zhanyan’s face was illuminated, making his high, straight nose stand out.

Under his gaze, Qing Jiyue’s heartbeat suddenly skipped a beat. He’d always felt that Tong Zhanyan seemed a little different lately.

Qing Jiyue whispered, “Mm.”

A smile tugged at Tong Zhanyan’s lips.

Without further ado, he took it.

The fertilizer was clearly insufficient, and the seeds had poor viability when first planted, yet the watermelon turned out surprisingly sweet.

Tong Zhanyan kept all the watermelon seeds.

After finishing their meal, neither of them left; they simply sat there, staring blankly into the darkness in the distance.

Back in school, they’d shared a dorm and saw each other constantly.

But since arriving at this base, Tong Zhanyan had been busy with planting, and Qing Jiyue had been busy with testing; they rarely had a moment to relax together.

Suddenly having the chance to spend time like this—even if they did nothing at all—felt quite comfortable to Tong Zhanyan.

After an unknown amount of time, just as Tong Zhanyan was starting to doze off, a figure emerged from the darkness in the distance, staggering toward them.

Everyone from the base was in the mess hall; this person wasn’t any of them.

Qing Jiyue saw it too and immediately summoned his Spirit Beast.

Tong Zhanyan summoned his chicken as well.

Fighting was out of the question; if push came to shove, he’d just toss it like a bomb—that was the only use he could think of for the chicken at the moment.

“Stay right here,” Qing Jiyue said, as if realizing something, and hurried toward the figure.

Tong Zhanyan thought for a moment, then turned and entered the cafeteria to alert the others.

By the time the group rounded the back door, Qing Jiyue was already standing beside the man, supporting him.

Yang Hong and the others approached as well.

As they drew closer and figured out what was happening, the group escorted the man toward the cafeteria.

Seeing this, Tong Zhanyan began to form a vague suspicion.

As they drew closer, Tong Zhanyan finally got a clear look: it was a middle-aged man, his face pale, cheeks sunken, and his gait unsteady.

Just as Tong Zhanyan had suspected, he wasn’t an intruder, but rather the hunting dog that had regained consciousness earlier but had been unable to return to human form.

He had been trying all this time, but had failed until an hour ago.

Wang Yanzhou and his group tended to him, while Qing Jiyue hurried to contact a doctor.

The cafeteria was bustling with activity, and everyone’s eyes were filled with a mix of complex emotions and wild joy.

Regaining consciousness and regaining human form are two different matters. The former merely indicates that the crops are effective, while the latter means that, with proper management, he can live like a normal person from now on.

Tong Zhanyan also tried to do something, but this wasn’t his area of expertise. After some thought, he decided to stand quietly to the side and watch.

There were quite a few others standing by watching as well, including Old Xu, Old Wang, and Yang Hong.

Old Xu looked at his old comrade beside him, his eyes filled with unspoken worry.

Old Wang’s two children had both died from the frenzy infection; neither had even reached forty when they passed.

Old Wang was even older than Old Xu; in two years, he would be nearly seventy. With his poor health, people had been urging him to step back and rest, but he had never agreed.

Because he was holding his breath.

He wanted to see the day when the frenzy was cured.

At that moment, Old Wang’s eyes welled up involuntarily, and his gaze drifted away.

If only he had firmly opposed it back then and insisted on keeping his son and daughter here…

Old Wang took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop thinking about it.

He turned to Old Xu beside him, “Regarding what happened earlier, I think we can…”

The cameras recorded every moment.

Once the situation became clear, the number of live stream viewers skyrocketed, creating a frenzy of activity.

Amidst the chaos, many simply watched silently as the group on screen worked frantically.

They had countless things they wanted to say, but at that moment, none of them knew what to say.

That person didn’t maintain human form for long; half an hour later, he fell into a frenzy again.

Qing Jiyue and his group found a nearby cage and locked him inside before he completely lost consciousness.

That was another chaotic scene.

After watching from the sidelines for a while longer, Tong Zhanyan returned to the small building.

The next morning, when Yang Hong and the others arrived, Tong Zhanyan learned that since that incident, the man had remained in his beast form.

However, having gone through it once, the group was no longer panicked.

Old Wang and Old Xu took a week off, saying they had some business to attend to back at the Planting Alliance.

After they left, the others continued their work.

The crops in the fields still needed harvesting, and the planting wasn’t finished yet.

After the rapeseed, the soybeans also ripened.

Tong Zhanyan used the same harvesting method as with the rapeseed: cutting the entire plant before the pods were completely dry to lay them out to dry, then threshing them once they were dry.

Soybean seeds are large, making this method easier to harvest, and since the fields weren’t extensive, Tong Zhanyan managed it all by himself.

A week later, just as Tong Zhanyan was preparing to sift the shelled soybeans, Old Xu and Old Wang returned.

As soon as they arrived, the two sought him out.

They handed Tong Zhanyan a list—a complete inventory of all the seeds currently in the seed bank.

They had already discussed it with the others and decided to fully transfer the authority to unlock the seed bank to Tong Zhanyan.

In other words, from now on, as long as Tong Zhanyan was willing, he could access any seed in the seed bank at any time. 

They had also heard Tong Zhanyan’s remarks that day—“crops at two yuan per jin” and “if we can keep suppressing it, that means a cure”—and while they trusted him wholeheartedly, they still thought he was being unrealistic.

After all, it was simply too incredible.

But upon careful reflection, they realized it might not be impossible after all; in fact, the more they thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

Based on Tong Zhanyan’s current planting method, it would take no more than three years to fully cultivate the base.

By then, at least several million jin of crops would be shipped out every month.

Beyond Tong Zhanyan’s base, those outside who were emulating his planting methods were still struggling, but at least they were managing to keep their crops alive.

Combined, they should be able to produce several hundred thousand jin each month.

Several million jin of crops…

That would definitely be enough to cover the needs of the vast majority of people.

Tong Zhanyan also seemed intent on driving prices down…

If Tong Zhanyan, who controlled half the supply, took the lead in driving prices down, prices would inevitably fall.

They’d already considered this back then, but they had to leave hope for those who’d follow, so they merely discussed it and didn’t bring it up again.

But now, since even those severely infected in a state of frenzy are recovering, what is there left to hesitate about?

Teaching them everything they know without holding back, selling the crops with reduced infection rates at the same price as others—voluntarily lowering prices when there’s clearly an opportunity for greater profit…

Tong Zhanyan has already gone this far for them—what else is there to hesitate about?

That night, after the man recovered, they thought long and hard and debated at length.

They had originally expected this lobbying effort to face many difficulties; after all, there were so many factors at play, and it even directly concerned the survival of everyone under the protective shield.

They had prepared themselves for a protracted battle.

Yet the persuasion went surprisingly smoothly.

It wasn’t just they who had witnessed Tong Zhanyan’s actions; others had as well.

Some among them were opposed. Tong Zhanyan’s independent approach carried too much uncertainty; if he ended up manipulating them in the end, things would become quite troublesome.

But more of them chose to trust him.

If Tong Zhanyan wanted to do something, he certainly had better ways to go about it.

Looking at the list handed to him, Tong Zhanyan hesitated for a moment before taking it, because he knew exactly what that list meant to the people of this world.

They were placing all their hopes on him.

Tong Zhanyan suddenly felt a heavy weight on his shoulders.

After a moment’s hesitation, Tong Zhanyan took the list.

He had started farming purely to avoid being banished back to the outer city. Later on, aside from wanting to eat a proper meal, he continued simply because of his promise to Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue helped him, so he’d help Qing Jiyue in return.

Since he’d already helped Qing Jiyue, it made no difference whether he helped a few more people or a few fewer.

Besides, having the list would make things much easier.

Seeing Tong Zhanyan take the list, Old Xu and Old Wang exchanged a glance, and both breathed a sigh of relief.

When they first met Tong Zhanyan, they actually didn’t agree with Qing Jiyue’s “hands-off” approach; they felt that since Tong Zhanyan was capable, they should make full use of him.

But now, they fully endorsed this approach and were even glad that Qing Jiyue had stopped them back then.

If they had intervened back then—if Tong Zhanyan had to report to them before doing anything and wait for their approval—things would never have progressed this quickly, nor would they have taken this direction.

So they had already agreed before coming: if Tong Zhanyan wasn’t willing to accept the list, they wouldn’t force the issue.

Beyond the list, Old Xu and Old Wang thick-skinnedly asked Tong Zhanyan if he was interested in formally launching a course.

Upon hearing those words, Tong Zhanyan was momentarily taken aback until the two explained further.

Tong Zhanyan never held back, but many things were hard to grasp through a screen, and some issues only arose when one actually got their hands on the work.

So many people wanted to visit Tong Zhanyan’s base and seek his guidance in person, but they were frustrated by the lack of opportunity.

If Tong Zhanyan were willing, that would be ideal.

Of course, the tuition was entirely up to Tong Zhanyan.

Old Xu and Old Wang had actually considered establishing a professional school long ago, but since they couldn’t even sustain their own operations, what qualifications did they have to teach others?

Once he figured out what was going on, Tong Zhanyan’s first reaction was to recall his own damn graduation project.

Other than that, he didn’t feel any resistance.

Teaching Ning Langdong and the others was teaching anyway; a few more or fewer students made no difference, and having a few extra hands to help would actually make things easier for him.

However, when it came to formal instruction…

Tong Zhanyan didn’t give an immediate reply; instead, he decided to think it over.

The fact that Tong Zhanyan was willing to consider it made Old Xu and Old Wang very happy, and the two of them went off in high spirits to find Ning Langdong and the others.

Ning Langdong and the others were scouring the ground for grass.

Just as Tong Zhanyan had predicted, once the first blade of grass sprouted, more and more began to appear sporadically.

By the riverbank, they had already planted over ten square meters of land.

Those growing by the roadside and near the septic tank—which hadn’t been transplanted—had, over the course of two months, formed a scattered patch.

Ning Langdong and the others were still persevering.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t bother with them.

This was just the beginning; it wasn’t time for them to cry yet.

That night, Tong Zhanyan studied the list.

The list didn’t just include vegetables and fruits; it listed every edible plant, including some trees and wild grasses.

The catalog was lengthy—thousands of pages long, listing tens of thousands of species. Tong Zhanyan recognized only a small fraction of them; the rest he’d never even heard of.

Furthermore, Tong Zhanyan finally got a complete picture of the crops from the first batch released over fifty years ago—crops whose seeds had long since run out.

Rice, wheat, peas, buckwheat, millet, barley, oats, cassava…

Most of the affected crops were staple foods.

Tong Zhanyan felt a headache coming on.

To ensure everyone had enough to eat, staple foods were essential.

Perhaps he should try the auction house?

He wasn’t short on money now, but the problem was—decades had passed; would the seeds even still exist?

Since staple foods were out of the question for the time being, Tong Zhanyan could only look at other options.

He currently had only one mu of land prepared for green manure, and these were all primitive seeds. Even if vegetables and fruits were unlocked, he wouldn’t be able to grow them, so he skipped them altogether.

He turned his attention to seeds suitable for land reclamation.

There were quite a few of those.

Tong Zhanyan sifted through them again, selecting as many as possible that could grow in low-fertility conditions.

Half an hour later, he had a list: alfalfa, field vetch, arrowroot, and green manure radish.

Like the purple vetch, these three had low fertilizer requirements and could be used as green manure.

Once the list was finalized, Tong Zhanyan sent it to Old Xu.

Unsealing the seeds wasn’t difficult in itself, but as they were vital to everyone’s survival, the seed vault’s security level was extremely high, so a series of procedures had to be followed.

It would take at least a week for the requested items to reach him.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t in a hurry; after all, even if they arrived now, it would take at least six months for them to germinate, grow, and pass through the first two seed-nurturing stages.

Compared to that, Tong Zhanyan had plenty of other tasks to attend to, such as the corn and pumpkins, which were ready for transplanting.

Since they had already passed the initial seedling stages and were planted in the most fertile plot, Tong Zhanyan prioritized fertilizing them.

After replanting, the seedlings were thriving.

Especially the corn—not only were the stalks nearly as thick as a finger, but many had already pushed through the seedling trays, looking as if they couldn’t wait any longer.

With so many seedlings, Tong Zhanyan selected an additional hundred people through a lottery and also had Ning Langdong and the others adjust their harvesting schedules to free up as much time as possible to help out.

The entire transplanting process took a full two days.

And that was just the corn.

After the corn came the pumpkins.

That took another two days.

Two days later, before the group had even caught their breath, it was already time to transplant the yardlong beans and eggplants.

This time, it was a full hundred mu of land.

Harvesting, transplanting—for the next two whole weeks, Ning Langdong and his group did nothing but work, except when they slept.

At first, Ning Langdong and his group still had the energy to joke and laugh while working, but by the end, they barely spoke a word all day, looking every bit the picture of people utterly worn down by life.

The people who came for the giveaway, on the other hand, were quite happy.

The stark contrast had the live stream filled with laughter.

After seeing off the prize winners, that night, Tong Zhanyan brought out the remaining watermelons, hoping to cheer up Ning Langdong and the others.

It didn’t work.

Half a month later, seeing that the corn and pumpkins were ready for transplanting, but the temporary planting wasn’t even finished, Tong Zhanyan had no choice but to give up.

He decided not to transplant the remaining crops.

In his previous world, many people only raised seedlings without transplanting them; some even skipped the seedling stage entirely, simply tossing seeds directly into the ground.

The reason he had insisted on raising seedlings and transplanting them before was purely that the soil was too poor and there was too little fertilizer.

Now that he lacked the manpower, he naturally had no choice but to give it up.

If he drew more winners, he wouldn’t have enough crops to give away.

These seeds had all been nurtured by him. Although skipping the transplanting step would certainly have an impact, the increased yield meant the consequences were relatively manageable.

However, this did remind Tong Zhanyan that it was time to seriously consider the suggestions made by Old Xu and Old Wang.

If they were going to learn, it couldn’t be limited to the classroom.

After all, he had plenty of land here; they could come here to learn.

With the pre-planting phase eliminated, Tong Zhanyan gave the group a day off, then led them the next day to harvest the crops in the fields.

Many plants still bore fruit; those ready for harvest were picked, and those ready for uprooting were pulled out.

For the misshapen plants caused by insufficient fertilizer, Tong Zhanyan ordered them chopped up to feed the pigs.

They needed to make room.

After two days of hard work, Tong Zhanyan gave the others another day off, while he drove the tiller to turn over the entire field.

Once the work was done, Tong Zhanyan went to the back gate that night to discuss the students’ training with Old Xu, Qing Jiyue, and the others.

This was no small matter; it wasn’t something that could be handled by simply calling a few people over to follow along and learn.

Since Tong Zhanyan was willing to teach, Old Xu was more inclined to establish a systematic approach—ideally compiling a detailed lesson plan to make it easier for future students to learn.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections to this, but he didn’t have the time.

Old Xu and Old Wang immediately took on the task.

Both of them were getting on in years; when they first started, they were carried by their enthusiasm and didn’t feel much strain, but now they returned home every day with aching backs and stiff muscles.

They didn’t want to admit defeat, but they had no choice but to concede.

If Tong Zhanyan was willing, they could shift their focus to compiling the lesson plans, leaving more of the practical work to the newcomers.

Tong Zhanyan had no objections.

Xu Lao and Wang Lao already had some experience, and having studied under him for over half a year, they had no trouble understanding what he said.

The lesson plans were easy to handle, but the system was a hassle.

Qing Jiyue suggested affiliating with the Sidi Military Academy and adopting their system, with Tong Zhanyan himself determining the specifics of admissions and evaluations.

Tong Zhanyan thought it over and found it feasible.

However, coordination with the school posed another problem.

Qing Jiyue got up and left the room; moments later, Chu Yi was dragged in.

Once he understood the situation, Chu Yi agreed without a second thought.

Given Tong Zhanyan’s current reputation and the importance of his base, no one would refuse—especially since the school had already established a separate program just for him.

The matter was resolved so easily that Tong Zhanyan actually felt a bit unaccustomed to it for a moment; after all, in his mind, this wasn’t a trivial matter.

It suddenly gave him the realization that he had indeed become important.

Qing Jiyue and Old Xu had already begun discussing the next steps.

There would undoubtedly be many applicants; this wasn’t a lottery, so specific screening criteria were essential.

Everyone turned to look at Tong Zhanyan.

It was up to Tong Zhanyan to decide.

Tong Zhanyan thought for a moment.

He didn’t really have any specific requirements—as long as they were willing to work hard and learn.

Of course, some prior experience would be best.

He didn’t place much hope in so-called “experience,” but since he was currently in a phase of rapid expansion, if a group of people who didn’t even recognize crops showed up, he simply wouldn’t have the energy to teach them at this stage.

As for tuition, Tong Zhanyan didn’t have any specific demands.

However, he was currently in desperate need of manpower, so he hoped that anyone who joined would stay for at least two years—he didn’t want them to leave right after he’d just trained them.

Understanding Tong Zhanyan’s perspective, Qing Jiyue, Old Xu, and Chu Yi didn’t rush to make a decision; instead, they asked Tong Zhanyan to go back first.

They wanted to discuss it further and then present a concrete plan; Tong Zhanyan would review it and decide at that time.

Since people were eager to take on the work, Tong Zhanyan naturally had no objections.

When Tong Zhanyan returned, Ning Langdong and his group were busy in the fields.

They had drawn lots and were transplanting the corn.

Tong Zhanyan went over to help as well.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan received the proposal.

All students at Sidi Military Academy would be exempt from tuition, but would be required to serve a three-year military term.

Tong Zhanyan’s academy would also waive tuition and exempt students from military service, but students must assist at the base during their studies for a minimum of three years.

Tong Zhanyan would set the standards for academic assessment.

As for admissions, Tong Zhanyan wanted experienced candidates; thus, the first intake would have no age restrictions and prioritize experience.

Beyond that, given Tong Zhanyan’s unique circumstances, everyone’s background would undergo a thorough vetting process.

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t find any flaws in the proposal and quickly gave his approval.

After replying to Qing Jiyue, Tong Zhanyan spoke with Tian Xinqing later that evening and asked him to post an announcement in the livestream.

Anyone interested could sign up.

Knowing help would arrive soon, Tian Xinqing and his group breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, as soon as the announcement went out, the number of viewers in the livestream surged past three million in no time.

“Has it finally come to this?”

“I really want to go, but I don’t have any experience at all, aaaah…”

“Why are they only accepting experienced people? That’s not fair.”

“It’s just the beginning—give them a break. Haven’t you seen how hard the senior is working?”

“Only three years—can you really learn everything in that time?”

“The senior is teaching personally, and tuition is free… I’m starting to feel jealous again.”

“This is just the first batch; there should be more later, right?”

…

The registration link was released two days later.

Within three hours of the announcement, the number of applicants exceeded 30,000, and it kept rising.

As Tong Zhanyan watched the numbers skyrocket, he had only one thought: thank goodness he wasn’t the one doing the initial screening.

A week later, just as they had finally finished transplanting the pumpkins, the registration portal closed.

By then, the total number of applicants had surpassed 100,000, eventually settling at 140,000.

That essentially covered everyone in the market with any farming experience.

Qing Jiyue and the others had originally planned to set the experience requirement at five years or more, but after screening, there were still over 50,000 people who qualified.

With no other choice, they had to raise the bar even higher.

By the time Tong Zhanyan received the list, only a little over three thousand people remained.

Tong Zhanyan gave it a quick glance; there were people from both the Inner City and the Outer City, but the majority were members of the Cultivation Alliance.

This was inevitable.

After all, they had previously specialized in cultivation.

Because of this, Tong Zhanyan spotted several familiar faces on the list: Gu Yunyang, Shen Ye, Tang Xin, and Tao Zhengping.

As well as Old Jin.

At first, Tong Zhanyan thought he must have misread it, but the person in the photo was indeed him.

After much internal struggle, Tong Zhanyan decided to include him.

The first batch of students consisted of five classes, with thirty students in each class, totaling one hundred and fifty students.

As soon as Tong Zhanyan finalized the list, Qing Jiyue and Chu Yi immediately began making arrangements.

Preparing classrooms and dormitories, issuing specific notifications, handling registration, student arrival, and the start of the school year.

Tong Zhanyan had originally planned to visit the school on the first day of classes, but considering his experiences from his previous two visits, he decided against it.

The day after classes began, a group of students was brought over by the school’s representative.

Tong Zhanyan had been waiting at the entrance since early morning.

When he saw the Devil King stepping off the special shuttle from a distance, the smile on Tong Zhanyan’s face froze instantly.

The Devil King was the head of the school?

Tong Zhanyan felt an urge to turn and run away.

Sure enough, the familiar scolding soon echoed through the air.

The selected students ranged in age from their early twenties to their late sixties. Since it was their first time there, every single one of them wore an excited expression, and many were looking around and whispering to each other.

The Devil King detested disobedient students.

After lining up the group, when the Devil King turned to look at Tong Zhanyan, his eyes were still filled with a coldness he hadn’t had time to hide.

That made Tong Zhanyan jump, and he almost snapped to attention.

Ning Langdong, Tian Xinqing, and Su Yanran were clearly traumatized as well, standing stiffly throughout the entire process.

After finally getting them into the base and watching the Devil King leave, Tong Zhanyan let out a huge sigh of relief.

The group was overjoyed to be here.

Seeing them, Tong Zhanyan was also very happy.

After all, he still had several dozen acres of seedlings left to plant.

Tong Zhanyan had already asked the school to explain the specifics, so he simply outlined the tasks ahead before leading them out to the fields.

Since everyone was experienced, they picked things up quickly.

Plus, since it was their first day helping out, they all worked at a breakneck pace.

Tong Zhanyan was deeply gratified.

Ning Langdong and the others were quite happy as well.

With the six of them, Yang Hong’s group of forty, the forty-plus bodyguards, and these students, the base now had over two hundred and thirty people.

Even without the raffle, this number was already quite substantial, and the seedlings in the trays were visibly dwindling rapidly.

A week later, the remaining seedlings were all planted in the ground.

Tong Zhanyan gave everyone two days off.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan called everyone together and distributed some of the remaining seedlings to each of the students.

Then he officially began his lesson, giving a comprehensive overview of seedling cultivation, transplanting, soil care, and pruning techniques.

He had covered this material countless times in his livestreams, so the group found it easy to follow.

After finishing his lecture, Tong Zhanyan cleared out a plot in the upper-right corner of the base—an area currently unused—and set it aside exclusively for them.

He wouldn’t provide fertilizer, but they could collect the initial supplies of humus, leaves, and eggshell powder from him.

Once he’d given these instructions, Tong Zhanyan left.

Ning Langdong and the others didn’t leave; they picked up some of the seedlings left over after Tong Zhanyan had distributed them and decided to plant them nearby as well.

When Tong Zhanyan returned to the small house, Old Xu was waiting at the door—the seeds he’d requested had already been delivered.

Unlike the previous batches of just a few or a few dozen seeds, this time they’d brought every single seed from the seed bank for those crops, amounting to a full seven or eight pounds.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t expected such a large quantity and was pleasantly surprised.

With so many seeds, while their viability wouldn’t improve immediately, planting them just once would yield a substantial overall harvest.

Perhaps next time, they could cover fifty or sixty mu of land.

After receiving the seeds, Tong Zhanyan got to work the very next day, determined to plant them as soon as possible.

These seeds didn’t require seedlings; all that needed to be done was clearing the land, mixing in plant ash, humus, and eggshell powder, then watering, broadcasting the seeds, covering them with soil, and laying down plastic sheeting.

With so many people helping, the work was finished in just a day.

After wrapping up here, Tong Zhanyan rested for two days before planting the watermelons again.

To ensure the seeds took root, he would need to plant them at least two more times.

With the experience from the previous round, Tong Zhanyan was much more relaxed this time; once the seeds were sown, he left them be.

He went to check on the chickens and pigs for the first time in a long while.

The chicks that hatched later were now nearly grown, so Su Yanran had combined them with the earlier batch, making a total of two cages of chickens.

With more chickens came more eggs; as Tong Zhanyan walked by, he spotted several in the nests.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t pick them up—he hadn’t brought any tools, and he simply couldn’t carry them all with just his hands.

The pigs had also grown quite a bit.

The original two were now fully grown, and the two purchased later for breeding were already over a meter tall.

Those two were still quite aggressive, so Tong Zhanyan had to start considering the possibility of artificial insemination.

But he couldn’t handle that himself, so he’d have to ask someone from the farm to help.

The sixteen chicks he’d bought later were all about 50 to 60 centimeters long.

After checking on them, Tong Zhanyan made a point of walking over to the manure pit to take a look.

They truly lived up to their reputation as manure machines.

Outside the pigsty’s manure pit, the eight septic tanks were also completely full.

The smell, however, was rather unpleasant.

Tong Zhanyan stayed for a moment before leaving.

After taking a few steps, he turned back.

The grass near the septic tanks was quite thick.

After returning to the small house, Tong Zhanyan went for a walk in the field in front of it.

Sure enough, he saw weeds sprouting in many places.

Tong Zhanyan called Ning Langdong and the others over.

While Ning Langdong and the others were busy, Tong Zhanyan contacted the staff at the Paleontological Conservation Institute to inquire about other beneficial insects.

Since the grass was already growing, it was time to start planning for them as well.

The team had already learned about the ants from the livestream. Upon hearing that Tong Zhanyan intended to raise more, they immediately sent over a list.

Tong Zhanyan selected four species: dung beetles, scarab beetles, lacewings, and cabbage white butterflies.

Dung beetles feed on manure and carry it underground, which helps improve soil quality.

The scarab beetles and the cabbage white butterfly have both pros and cons. The downside is that they feed on crop leaves, but the upside is that they also help with pollination.

As for the lacewing, it has only one purpose: to eat the larvae of cabbage white butterflies and scarab beetles.

Beetles are relatively manageable, but cabbage white butterflies reproduce extremely quickly. If left unchecked, the entire field would be devastated in no time.

From this perspective alone, it might actually be better not to raise them at all, but in the long run, a relatively intact ecosystem is essential.