Qing Jiyue’s eyes instantly lit up.

He pulled back the covers and was about to get out of bed.

Tong Zhanyan hurriedly stopped him. “Not so fast. Stay in bed.”

He had originally planned to go back alone and then return, which would have required only a small bag.

But if Qing Jiyue was coming back too, flying was definitely out of the question; with such severe injuries, the wounds could easily reopen during a flight.

If they took a car, the distance between the two places wasn’t short—they’d have to find a private car.

With Yang Hong and the others around, finding a driver wouldn’t be a problem.

Plus, they’d have to notify Qing Suifeng’s side.

And the hospital—they’d have to contact them in advance as well.

Qing Jiyue obediently pulled the blanket back over himself.

Seeing him like that, Tong Zhanyan’s eyes darkened for a moment.

His high, straight nose; his thin lips, pale from the injury; the hospital gown, slightly loose, revealing his neck.

An obedient Qing Jiyue was adorable.

It made him want to do something for him.

Tong Zhanyan forced himself to look away.

He pulled out his terminal and contacted Qing Suifeng.

Qing Suifeng had no objections.

Things didn’t feel right this year. Although this area was still relatively safe for now, no one knew if it would stay that way.

Qing Jiyue wouldn’t be able to fight again for the time being.

It would be safer at the base.

After contacting Qing Suifeng, Tong Zhanyan reached out to Yang Hong, asking him to come over and handle the transfer procedures for Qing Jiyue.

Handling the transfer procedures required going to a crowded place, so Tong Zhanyan couldn’t go.

Tong Zhanyan had been recognized long ago when dealing with that monkey-like beast; the fact that it didn’t cause a major commotion was because Qing Suifeng had promptly notified the hospital.

Even so, the recovery rate among the hospital’s patients has skyrocketed recently.

Those who previously struggled to even breathe now suddenly have the strength to get up and wander around looking for people.

This has caused the doctors in the know to look at Tong Zhanyan with suspicious eyes.

Tong Zhanyan doesn’t want to be the center of attention, so lately, whenever he goes out, he wears a mask and a hat to disguise himself.

Two hours later, Qing Suifeng contacted Tong Zhanyan.

He’s already arranged for a hospital—the one closest to the base; Qing Jiyue just needs to go there.

A car was also ready, waiting with Yang Hong and the others.

Hospital beds were in short supply, so Yang Hong and the others were staying at a small inn outside the hospital. Once Tong Zhanyan’s wounds had mostly scabbed over and he was allowed to be discharged, he moved there as well.

When Tong Zhanyan turned around after finishing his tasks, Qing Jiyue was looking at him.

He was lying quietly under the covers, with only his head peeking out.

That urge to do something surged through Tong Zhanyan’s mind once again.

Qing Jiyue was a patient now—a seriously injured one.

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

Qing Jiyue stared at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “Am I dreaming?”

Tong Zhanyan was puzzled. “Why would you think that?”

Qing Jiyue looked at Tong Zhanyan.

He had thought Tong Zhanyan didn’t like him.

But Yang Hong and the others had told him that after he went missing, Tong Zhanyan had rushed over despite the obstacles. After finding him, he had even chased him all the way to the outside of the protective barrier.

Tong Zhanyan had even held his hand—more than once.

Tong Zhanyan sat down by the bedside. “Gu Yinfeng.”

Qing Jiyue was puzzled.

“I heard before that you and Gu Yinfeng were engaged.” Tong Zhanyan clenched his teeth; rumors were harmful. “…That’s not right.”

Qing Jiyue instantly understood what Tong Zhanyan meant, and his heart began to pound like a drum.

He had known all along that Tong Zhanyan had misunderstood, but hearing those words from Gu Yinfeng’s mouth versus Tong Zhanyan’s was two entirely different matters.

Gu Yinfeng was merely stating the facts.

Tong Zhanyan, however, was explaining it to him.

Tong Zhanyan was explaining it to him.

Qing Jiyue looked straight into Tong Zhanyan’s eyes. “I have no fiancé, nor do I have a boyfriend.”

“Hmm.” Tong Zhanyan reached out and took hold of the two fingers Qing Jiyue had tucked into the edge of the blanket.

He said, “What a coincidence—neither do I.”

Feeling the warmth at his fingertips, Qing Jiyue couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth curl upward, and along with them, the two fingers he was holding also curled.

He hooked his fingers around Tong Zhanyan’s.

Tong Zhanyan stayed at the hospital until past nine o’clock at night, leaving only after Qing Jiyue had fallen asleep.

A good night’s sleep.

The next day, the group was up and busy early in the morning.

Yang Hong and the others checked the vehicles and confirmed the route, while Tong Zhanyan went to Qing Jiyue’s place to help him pack his things.

At eight o’clock, Tong Zhanyan wheeled Qing Jiyue to the hospital entrance, and with the help of the group, they got him into the car.

There were too many people, so they used two vehicles.

In one of the vans, the rear seats had been folded down to form a bed.

After helping Qing Jiyue lie down and confirming once more how to handle any emergencies, the entire group got into the car.

Tong Zhanyan got into the same vehicle as Qing Jiyue.

The vehicles pulled out, heading toward the Inner City.

The Outer City and the Inner City were two completely different worlds, especially given their current proximity to the front lines—the contrast was even more stark.

Dilapidated, crumbling houses, vast stretches of deserted streets, uneven roads, ground blackened by the blood of beasts, and the ever-present threat of a sudden beast attack.

Watching the scenery recede outside the window, Tong Zhanyan felt a mix of emotions.

His original self’s home was located on the very outskirts.

If he hadn’t passed the entrance exam for Sidi Military Academy back then, he would be living in a place like this right now.

The road ahead was uneven, and with the injured Qing Jiyue on board, the vehicle moved slowly.

More than two hours later, as they gradually moved away from the front lines, the road surface smoothed out, and the vehicle began to pick up speed.

Qing Jiyue was rocked to sleep by the motion.

Tong Zhanyan dozed off as well.

Around noon, they found a spot to rest and switched drivers.

The distance between the two locations was vast; they couldn’t possibly make it in a single day.

Considering Qing Jiyue’s condition, they decided to find a hotel to stay the night.

By noon the next day, they finally reached the boundary between the Inner City and the Outer City.

It was a very high black wall that felt quite oppressive.

Tong Zhanyan was from the Outer City, so that feeling was even stronger for him, especially as they went through the layers of security checks.

Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Tang Shijin spoke up as the group got back into the car after the inspection: “It wasn’t like this before.”

Tong Zhanyan looked at her.

“Although there used to be a distinction between the Inner City and the Outer City, there weren’t any rules preventing people from the Outer City from entering the Inner City. Everyone was free,” Tang Shijin said. “Until the frenzy appeared…”

The emergence of the frenzy affected not only individual families but also the operation of the defensive lines and the mental state of everyone within the protective shield.

If they were going to die anyway, why should they still follow the rules?

If they were going to die anyway, why should they fight to the death?

As a result, for a long time, the entire area within the protective shield was in chaos, and even the defensive lines were on the verge of collapse.

That wall was built during that time.

It wasn’t merely to separate the people on either side; it was also to quickly establish a new defensive line should the outer city’s defenses collapse.

Doing so would shrink their living space and inevitably reduce the number of people it could accommodate, but their situation had indeed reached that point.

That was a deeper despair.

Then they discovered that ancient crops could suppress frenzy.

That gave them hope and eased the situation slightly, even if it was just a tiny, faint spark.

For more than fifty years after that, they all fought desperately to protect that spark, trying to fan it into a raging fire that would drive away all the darkness.

Yet, after more than fifty years, not only had the situation failed to improve in the slightest, but the number of people infected with the frenzy was actually growing.

Tong Zhanyan’s arrival was not merely about giving hope to those infected with the frenzy.

Tong Zhanyan simply listened quietly.

He had actually studied this in textbooks, and his original self retained some memories of it, but until this moment, it all felt far, far removed from him.

Once inside the Inner City, traffic restrictions slowed them down again.

It was past seven in the evening when they finally arrived at the hospital arranged by Qing Suifeng.

Medical staff were already waiting at the entrance.

The car pulled up; they got in first to confirm the situation before escorting Qing Jiyue inside.

Qing Jiyue was just as important to them.

If it weren’t for him this time, the conversion device at the Qing Family’s place likely still wouldn’t have been recovered, and the battlefield would certainly have expanded even further.

In that case, who knows how many people would have died?

By the time things were wrapped up with Qing Jiyue, it was already past ten o’clock at night.

The base was located on the outskirts of the city, so although this hospital was the closest to the base, it was still a half-hour drive away.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush back; he simply found a place to stay for the night outside the hospital.

Yang Hong and the others stayed behind with him.

The next day, after checking on Qing Jiyue, Tong Zhanyan returned to the base.

The hospital was even closer to the front gate.

Tong Zhanyan crossed the bridge and walked through the grove of trees lining the river. From a distance, he could already see the crops.

Spanning fifty mu on either side, they were no longer the pitiful, sparse, and half-dead plants they had been in the training room and greenhouses.

Now, their branches were sturdy, their leaves fully unfurled, giving the impression of thriving vitality.

Although some restrictions were still in place due to a lack of fertilizer, and some seeds were still in the seed-nurturing phase, which was somewhat unsatisfactory—

Tong Zhanyan had been away for over twenty days, and upon his return, the crops in the fields had undergone a dramatic transformation.

They had all passed the pollination stage, and the ripest fruits were already ready for harvest.

This put Tong Zhanyan in a very good mood.

No one can resist the joy of a bountiful harvest.

Ning Langdong and the others were equally delighted.

They had waited with bated breath, and finally, Tong Zhanyan had returned.

They practically rushed him straight to the greenhouse.

The strawberries were nearly all gone.

Inside the greenhouse.

Once he saw the situation clearly, Tong Zhanyan’s anxiety melted away, replaced by a mix of laughter and exasperation.

Ning Langdong and the others had shown him these strawberries before, but they’d only pointed out the areas that had been heavily damaged.

Combined with the distortion from the camera lens and the fact that Ning Langdong and the others looked as if the sky had fallen, he’d assumed the situation was truly dire.

But once he actually stepped inside the greenhouse, he realized that only about a hundred square meters had been affected.

To be more precise, only about fifty square meters had suffered severe damage; the rest had merely had a few leaves nibbled off.

“It’s just this minor. We don’t even need to do anything about it.” Tong Zhanyan headed toward the exit.

Ning Langdong, Old Xu, and the others—who had been frantic with worry—exchanged glances, their facial muscles twitching involuntarily.

Is this all there is to it?

There were already more than ten plants left with only one or two leaves remaining, and countless others with nibbled leaves—and Tong Zhanyan called this “this is all there is to it”?

“Go check on the fish,” Tong Zhanyan said without further explanation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to explain; on the contrary, he had already spoken about this countless times.

But the cautious mindset cultivated over fifty years wasn’t something that could be reversed in a day or two.

Only by actually seeing results could their anxiety be completely dispelled.

And this was just the beginning.

If the cabbage white butterflies were to truly swarm, they could reduce the entire hundred-mu base to a patchwork of holes in just a few days.

Ning Langdong and the others cast anxious glances at the greenhouse, barely managing to hold back from saying anything more.

With Ning Langdong leading the way, the group headed toward the small building.

The fish were still in the tanks.

Tong Zhanyan had originally planned to keep them in the tanks for just a week, then release them into the lake once they’d recovered, but things had been delayed.

After retrieving Qing Jiyue, he’d considered having Ning Langdong and the others release them, but ultimately decided against it.

Many things hinge on the details; if they were to die, he’d have to start all over again.

After they stopped changing all the water every time, the fish stopped flipping over.

When Tong Zhanyan looked over again, they were swimming back and forth, chasing each other, looking quite lively.

Grass carp have a growth cycle of two to three years. With only about twenty days having passed, they hadn’t changed much at all; they were still only about two fingers wide.

After checking on them, Tong Zhanyan headed toward the chicken coop.

Since bringing Qing Jiyue back, he’d occasionally check on the farm’s status through the live stream backend.

He’d already moved the ducks and geese from cardboard boxes to the small chicken coops he’d used before.

Ducks are very similar to chickens; it’ll only be three to four months before they start laying eggs.

Geese have a relatively longer growth cycle, taking about half a year.

Compared to fish, the growth cycles of both are relatively short; just over twenty days is enough for them to develop.

The ducks, in particular, have all entered their molting phase and look as ugly as can be.

There’s also a noticeable difference in their sizes; the geese are nearly one and a half times the size of the ducks.

With their experience raising chickens, Ning Langdong and the others have kept them in good health.

It’s about time to separate them into different pens.

Among all livestock and poultry, geese are considered quite aggressive.

It’s one thing when they’re young, but if they’re kept together once they’ve grown up, he’s afraid the ducks will get killed.

While pondering the matter of separating them, Tong Zhanyan headed toward the pigsty.

The sow had successfully conceived.

Tong Zhanyan had already discussed the specific care requirements with Su Yanran, but he felt more at ease after seeing it for himself.

A sow’s gestation period is about four months. At twenty days, the pregnancy wasn’t very noticeable yet, but she seemed somewhat uncomfortable and kept pacing back and forth in the pen.

Tong Zhanyan inquired about the specifics; there weren’t any major issues, but she would need a bit more attention.

Before leaving, Tong Zhanyan took a quick look at the manure pits.

With this batch of crops nearing harvest, most of the manure pits were naturally empty, though there was still some left in the ones beneath the pig pens.

They were currently using rapeseed fertilizer.

That rapeseed fertilizer is more effective than the compost made from crop seedlings, so it’s actually more economical to use.

However, there’s just too much land this time around. Even after excluding the purple vetch fields that don’t need fertilizing, there are still over seventy mu left, and the fertilizer is still being used up like water.

Tong Zhanyan headed back to the area near the small house to check on the cherry tomatoes in those two mu of newly fertilized soil.

When Tong Zhanyan left, they were still in their starter pots; after he departed, Ning Langdong and a few others transplanted them into the ground.

They’d done this many times before, so there were no issues.

Those cherry tomatoes were planted late and were currently just beginning to sprout flower buds and branches.

Since they’d been grown from seed many times before and were already well-established, planting them in the green manure beds didn’t affect them much.

Among the crops planted in the green manure beds were several varieties with an infection rate naturally below 20%.

Their condition is still quite good.

In addition, there were the seeds he had previously purchased through his livestream.

Winter melon, water spinach, lettuce, taro, muskmelon, bitter melon, and scallions.

Since these were seeds from the second or third batches, their viability was poor, and several of them failed to germinate.

As for the ones that did sprout, even though they were planted around the same time as the cherry tomatoes—which have already started to flower—they’re still stuck in their seedling pots.

Aside from those, the cassava, sorghum, and peas that Tong Zhanyan had been constantly worrying about were in even worse shape.

Out of three sorghum seeds, only one sprouted.

Only one pea seedling has emerged, and it’s so spindly it looks like a gust of wind could snap it in two.

The cassava is even worse—it hasn’t shown any signs of life yet.

Tong Zhanyan picked one up and sniffed it; he could even smell a musty odor.

If they don’t sprout within the next week, they’ll probably go bad.

Tong Zhanyan felt a pang of sorrow.

It wasn’t that he was worried about the money, but rather that he might be short one more crop.

Finally, Tong Zhanyan went to check the other fields.

The eggplants and cucumbers—Ning Langdong and the others had already helped him plant them several times—were being managed fairly well.

The purple vetch, however, hadn’t been fertilized, and since some of it was being planted for the first time, its condition was somewhat poorer compared to the other crops, though this was to be expected.

After finishing his inspection, Tong Zhanyan returned to the small house.

He had brought the wheat back with him.

He had already decided to plant it later in that sealed greenhouse at the back of the compound.

The greenhouse was equipped with an underground irrigation system; he had originally built it as a sealed structure for isolating and testing ants.

After the ants vanished, he didn’t dare tamper with it, so he’d left it untouched.

Now, however, it worked out conveniently for him.

He certainly wouldn’t dare plant that wheat directly in the base’s fields.

Upon seeing the wheat seeds, Ning Langdong and the others reacted differently.

Ning Langdong, Tian Xinqing, and Su Yanran were all filled with anticipation.

Although they had only been involved in farming for a short time, they all had some understanding of wheat, as the Planting Alliance and various research institutions had studied it when they were six or seven years old.

No one had been growing it since before the Great Cataclysm.

After the Great Cataclysm, while they knew there were likely some mutated crops out there, they had no idea what they looked like or where they could be found.

After the Planting Alliance and the institutions researching treatments for frenzy suggested these crops might hold the key, the Four Great Families joined forces to organize over a dozen expedition teams. They ventured out time and again, searching for a full six months.

The matter caused quite a stir at the time, so even though they were young back then, they retained some memories of it.

What left an even deeper impression on them was that all the research ultimately ended in failure.

Tong Zhanyan had already reduced the infection rate of ordinary crops; if he could now revert the mutated crops back to normal, it would undoubtedly be another miracle.

However, Old Xu and Old Wang only had concern in their eyes.

Because the two of them had actually grown that wheat themselves.

That wheat had adapted to survive in the harsh external environment, which made it extremely aggressive.

Not only could they become a source of contamination themselves, but their vitality was terrifyingly strong.

From planting to maturity, they only needed about twenty days.

Moreover, once planted in the ground, their root systems would immediately grow wildly, until they occupied all the surrounding space.

Even if every root were cleared away, they would sprout again after a short while.

In fact, even after they’d sterilized the soil through more than ten processes, the plants still managed to reappear.

They were so aggressive that they didn’t even seem like plants; rather, they resembled sentient, living creatures.

Tong Zhanyan’s base contained other crops as well—if things got out of control…

Tong Zhanyan didn’t seem particularly concerned about Old Xu and Old Wang’s worries; at worst, he’d just have his chicken burn that plot of land.

The blue flames released by that chicken could even melt bricks and stones; he didn’t believe a few mutated crops could withstand them.

The problem ultimately lay in the infection rate.

As for them, perhaps he should also consider whether they could revert to their original varieties.

Even if the infection rate dropped, as long as they didn’t return to their original forms, it would still be meaningless.

There had been no activity in the livestream chat room during this time; it seemed impossible to acquire rice and wheat through the seed-purchasing route.

If this approach fails, too, he’ll have to say goodbye to rice and noodles for the rest of his life.

After finishing the discussion, Tong Zhanyan went online to buy the mesh and metal rods needed to separate the ducks and geese into cages, then headed to the greenhouse with a hoe.

Without relying on technology, crops could only be improved through continuous natural selection and breeding.

Judging by the mutations in those wheat plants, even with a short growth cycle, it would take at least several years to breed them back to their original form.

If he delayed any further, who knows how long it would take?

He hadn’t yet seen how those wheat plants actually grew.

He’d treat this first round as a learning experience.

Ning Langdong and the others grabbed their hoes and followed suit.

Although Tong Zhanyan had been discharged from the hospital, he hadn’t fully recovered yet.

The soil in the greenhouse was mixed with humus, plant ash, and eggshell powder, but since nothing had been planted there for a long time, it was already showing signs of compaction.

Considering the condition of the wheat, Tong Zhanyan didn’t bother to completely rework the soil. After having Ning Langdong and the others help loosen the surface, he began digging furrows.

The greenhouse covered 600 square meters, which is roughly one mu of land.

It wouldn’t take him long to do it alone, and with Ning Langdong and the other four, digging the trench would be a matter of just over ten minutes.

Preparing the seeds, however, was a bit of a hassle.

The seeds, which had a high infection rate, were toxic to them, and the wheat ears were as sharp and hard as knives, so they had no choice but to wear two pairs of gloves and strip them one by one.

Fortunately, each grain was about the size of a fingertip, so they were easy to pick off.

From a backpack full of wheat ears, they managed to harvest a third of a backpack’s worth of grains.

Tong Zhanyan wasn’t disappointed.

If things really turned out as Old Xu and the others said—maturing in twenty days—then in a month, he’d have a huge pile of seeds.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t start the seeds in a nursery; he buried them directly in the soil, one per hole.

He certainly had no shortage of rooting solutions.

Once he was done, Tong Zhanyan had Tian Xinqing set up a camera inside to keep a record.

The camera was connected to the livestream.

“What new thing did he plant this time?”

“Has Senior returned to the base?”

“That’s great.”

“I heard he was injured before? Is he okay?”

“Without Senior in the base, it always feels like something’s missing.”

……

“It’s wheat. I want to see if I can grow it back to its original state,” said Tong Zhanyan as he checked if the camera was working.

Now that the base had grown and there were more cameras, Tong Zhanyan rarely spoke directly to the camera anymore.

Suddenly receiving a response, the group in the live stream—who had long since gotten used to entertaining themselves—were taken aback.

The next moment, the chat exploded with activity.

“Senior, did you finally remember you still have a bunch of viewers waiting to be fed?”

“I’ve never seen a streamer like you. Thumbs down.”

“I heard you got hurt. Are you okay?”

“Is it the wheat I’m thinking of?”

“Isn’t that thing super resilient? Isn’t it a bad idea to just plant it right here at the base?”

“I’m a little worried too.”

“First, you were begging for seeds, and now you’ve brought back a bunch of mutated ones to plant. Is there something about them that’s different from other crops? Otherwise, I really don’t understand why you’re so obsessed.”

……

Tong Zhanyan said, “My injury has almost healed, thanks for your concern. We can control the root system, so it’s not a big deal. As for why I have to plant them…”

“This is a staple food. It can be stored for a very long time, and the yield is higher than that of many other crops. In the long run, planting them is a smart move.”

After a pause, Tong Zhanyan added honestly, “Plus, I want to eat it.”

“Why do I feel like that last sentence is the real point?”

“That reason… I can only say it’s very ‘Senior’ of you.”

“If it’s just for eating, why plant that stuff in the base…”

……

Seeing that the questions in the live stream were becoming more and more numerous and the discussion was getting increasingly off-topic, Tong Zhanyan added a few more brief remarks before ending the chat.

Perhaps to some people, what he was doing now did indeed seem a bit unnecessary.

But he couldn’t possibly live his life solely for others.

He’d help when he could, but beyond that, he just wanted to eat a normal meal.

Stepping outside, Tong Zhanyan checked the time and got on his scooter.

Qing Jiyue was still alone at the hospital. Instead of leaving through the front entrance, he headed toward the back door. Just in case, he planned to bring Yang Hong and the others along.

As he passed by the stream, Tong Zhanyan took a moment to look at the aquatic plants. Over twenty days had passed, and many of the plants had already sprouted; the fastest-growing ones were even over twenty centimeters tall.

Without exception, they all looked malnourished. The water had also been purified. Still, they were alive. Neither the Devil King nor Chu Yi had returned yet, so Yang Hong was the one who accompanied Tong Zhanyan to the hospital. In the hospital room, Qing Jiyue was talking to someone through a screen.

On the other end was Gu Yinfeng. The Gu Family had also been attacked, and since they had lent many people to the Qing Family, the situation on their end was quite tense as well. After Qing Jiyue was brought back, Gu Yinfeng only came by the next day to check on him. Once he confirmed he would be all right, he hadn’t returned.

Communication, however, had never been cut off. Seeing Tong Zhanyan enter, Gu Yinfeng smiled and greeted him before ending the call. As soon as the call ended, the holographic screen in front of Qing Jiyue switched back to Tong Zhanyan’s livestream.

Qing Jiyue had been watching the livestream. Tong Zhanyan raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

He’d been watching ever since he started growing things on the balcony, and for the past six months or so, he’d practically been living at the base. How long had it been? Hadn’t he seen enough yet?

Qing Jiyue calmly closed the livestream. he wasn’t watching those crops.“How are you feeling? Has the doctor been here yet?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

“They’ve been here…” Qing Jiyue recounted the situation in full detail.

As he listened, Tong Zhanyan took two steps forward and sat down at the bedside. He leaned toward Qing Jiyue, then grabbed the pillows behind him, stacking them up and placing them behind Qing Jiyue. 

The wound ran right through Qing Jiyue’s entire chest, so leaning against the pillows would be more comfortable. After adjusting the pillows, Tong Zhanyan was about to tell Qing Jiyue to lie back when he glanced up and noticed that Qing Jiyue’s ears had turned bright red at some point. 

It was only then that Tong Zhanyan realized just how close they were. Because he had reached for the pillow beside them, it was as if he were holding Qing Jiyue in his arms. He could even feel Qing Jiyue’s breath. 

Tong Zhanyan pressed down on the pillow again. Qing Jiyue leaned back. To create some distance between them. 

The moment Qing Jiyue moved, Tong Zhanyan grabbed his arm. Qing Jiyue’s body visibly stiffened. Tong Zhanyan supported him, guiding him to slowly lean back. Qing Jiyue’s tense body gradually relaxed until he was fully resting against the pillow.

Tong Zhanyan let go. “What are you nervous about? I’m not going to eat you.”  

Qing Jiyue’s body, which had just relaxed, tensed up again instantly. “I’m not nervous.”

After a pause, he added, “My wound just hurt a little a moment ago.” He had always wanted to get closer to Tong Zhanyan, but now that he had the chance, he actually felt a bit uneasy. 

Tong Zhanyan asked, “Should I go get a doctor?”

“…No need. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

Tong Zhanyan wanted to say something else, but the words died on his lips. 

He didn’t sit back down on the nearby stool but remained seated at the bedside. Qing Jiyue was in a private room, so they didn’t have to worry about being disturbed. The two of them chatted sporadically like that until the doctor came for rounds in the evening.

That night, Tong Zhanyan went back.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan called Ning Langdong and the others, grabbed the iron mesh filter he’d bought earlier, packed up the fish, and headed to the lake. Quite a bit of aquatic vegetation had grown along the lakeshore.

Tong Zhanyan had scattered more seeds here initially, so the grass was even more abundant and lush. Tong Zhanyan filled a container with water to let the fish acclimate to the temperature and water conditions, then set up the net at the junction where the lake met the stream. 

The deepest part of the water was only about a meter, but the net Tong Zhanyan had bought was two meters wide. To secure it, he had also bought many iron rods to use as stakes. After spending some time setting everything up, Tong Zhanyan simply tipped the fish tank over. The fish vanished into the water almost instantly.

The silt in the lake had settled completely, making the water crystal clear and the aquatic plants even more visible. This environment wasn’t actually ideal for raising fish, but this was the best he could manage for now.

The only problem was that this spot was quite far from the small house where he lived, which would make future feeding a hassle. After finishing up here, Tong Zhanyan went to check on the greenhouse where he was growing wheat. He didn’t have high hopes, since the seeds had only been planted around this time yesterday.

But as soon as he walked in, he saw several patches of green. Tong Zhanyan was astonished. He grabbed a small trowel and dug up a few plants to examine them. The wheat had indeed begun to sprout, and the shoots were longer than he’d expected—the longest one was nearly five centimeters.

Tong Zhanyan suddenly felt a headache coming on, for he could already vaguely sense the “vigorous vitality” that Old Xu and the others had spoken of. Tong Zhanyan buried them back down.Most ordinary crops couldn’t withstand such handling, but these shouldn’t have that problem.

Those wheat plants indeed didn’t have that problem; when Tong Zhanyan checked again on the third day, those few had already poked their heads out of the ground. Besides them, the rest of the wheat also began to sprout one after another.

In contrast, the cassava was a complete opposite case; another three days had passed, yet it remained completely motionless. 

A little later, Tong Zhanyan went to take a look by the lake.He didn’t see any fish floating belly-up. Since the fish had just arrived in their new environment, if they were going to die, it would have happened in the first few days. The fact that nothing had happened yet suggested they were adapting well.This made Tong Zhanyan wonder if he should get some shrimp as well. There’s an ecosystem in the water; fish alone definitely wouldn’t suffice.

After washing his hands by the lake, Tong Zhanyan went over to Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue seemed to be doing quite well.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan was once again amazed by the vitality of those wheat plants. In just two days, they had already grown to nearly twenty centimeters, with each stem as thick as a finger. Another two days later, exactly one week after planting, the wheat had reached Tong Zhanyan’s knee height.

At the same time, they began to show differences from ordinary wheat; their leaves were much stiffer. While the tips of ordinary wheat leaves droop slightly as they grow longer, these remained upright.This made them look like a field studded with short swords.

It was also around this time that the other crops at the base were ready for harvest. With the students included, the base now had nearly three hundred people, but this time the cultivated area was thirty mu larger than the last.

All things considered, the situation wasn’t much easier. It was the same for Tong Zhanyan’s group as it was for the Planting Alliance.There was a constant shortage of crops, but these goods had a shelf life—only fresh produce within that timeframe was usable. 

On top of that, many people simply couldn’t afford them…

As Tong Zhanyan’s base expanded, this battle became increasingly difficult to fight. Tong Zhanyan had just one solution: weigh it by the pound and sell it at a discount.

Tong Zhanyan made it sound simple, but Gu Yunyang, Old Xu, and the rest of the group were left with mixed feelings for quite some time. It wasn’t that they were unwilling to lower the price; it was just that there were simply too many factors involved.

However, since Tong Zhanyan had already brought it up, they held an emergency meeting that very night. The next day, Tong Zhanyan received the new quote. 90% of the original price. The moment he saw it, Tong Zhanyan felt like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Last time it was 95%, this time 90%—what’s the difference? Upon reflection, he felt relieved. Haste makes waste; a gradual reduction is fine.