Tong Zhanyan’s heart had been in his throat, but upon hearing those four words, he momentarily didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The group of paleontologists had no idea what was going on, but he immediately realized it wasn’t some strange beast or monster at all—it was the four-note cuckoo, also known as the common cuckoo.

In his previous world, thanks to their distinctive call, they were a well-known presence.

After that moment of helpless amusement, Tong Zhanyan quickly realized something else: four-note cuckoos prey on cabbage white butterflies.

Those cabbage white butterflies had remained out of control, preventing him from releasing them. If he could add the four-note cuckoos to the mix, that should solve the problem.

Tong Zhanyan immediately told the paleontology team about the four-note cuckoo.

Before the Great Cataclysm, hardly anyone used paper books anymore. After the Great Cataclysm, data stored online was virtually gone, and what had been recovered was fragmented and riddled with countless bits of garbled code.

There was almost nothing left regarding crops.

However, judging by the paleontologists’ reaction, they must have managed to find quite a bit of data on ancient organisms.

The paleontologists were already obsessed with these ancient creatures; their initial shock turned to delight, and the group was instantly overjoyed.

Before ending the call, Tong Zhanyan didn’t forget to remind them that the four-note cuckoo is a brood parasite.

They don’t build their own nests or raise their young; instead, they lay their eggs in the nests of other birds whose eggs are similar in color and size to their own. They push the original eggs out of the nest, tricking the other birds into thinking the cuckoo’s eggs are their own, and then have them incubate and raise the young.

In other words, the presence of four-note cuckoos meant there was at least one other species of bird in the vicinity.

To his surprise, the excitement was twofold; even through the screen, Tong Zhanyan could sense their enthusiasm.

Knowing they were already eager to get started, Tong Zhanyan gave a few final instructions before ending the call.

Due to the delay caused by the raffle, this harvest took two and a half days.

By the time they finished, Ning Langdong and the rest of the group were completely exhausted.

Tong Zhanyan immediately announced that they would call it a day early.

Everyone loves a day off. The group, who had been listless just moments before, instantly perked up, and the entire base was filled with laughter and cheer.

While they could rest, Tong Zhanyan could not, which made their smiles seem somewhat jarring to him.

With that in mind, Tong Zhanyan called them over and handed out the exam papers from earlier.

The group had completely forgotten about it, but the sudden distribution of the exams made their hearts leap into their throats.

They had already checked the answers after the test, and the results weren’t looking good.

As soon as they received the exams, their brows furrowed—most of them had seen their scores drop, and by quite a bit.

After distributing the papers, Tong Zhanyan deliberately said nothing, simply walking away with a stern expression.

Only once he was far enough away did the corners of his mouth curl up uncontrollably.

Actually, overall, their grades were still decent.

The previous exam had been quite easy, whereas this one was somewhat challenging, so it was only natural that their scores had dropped.

That night, Tong Zhanyan slept soundly.

The next day, seeing the dark circles under Gu Yunyang and the others’ eyes, Tong Zhanyan concluded that they must not have slept well the previous night.

That made Tong Zhanyan feel even better.

Finishing the harvest didn’t mean the work in the fields was done; there was still fertilizing, pollinating, and now weeding to add to the list—quite a lot to do.

Tong Zhanyan still set aside two hours to go over the test papers.

He focused particularly on the questions where students had made the most mistakes.

After finishing the review, he gave them another hour for free discussion before assigning tasks.

Fertilizing, pollinating, and weeding were still necessary. In addition, Tong Zhanyan took twenty people with him to help clear the land over by the watermelon fields, and then to the greenhouses to help plant corn.

By the time they finished, it was already nighttime.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan took them to remove the plastic sheeting from the field of purple vetch.

With three hundred mu of land, just removing the plastic sheeting kept them busy for most of the day.

That night, Tong Zhanyan arranged for rain.

The day after the rain, the ground was a muddy mess, making many field tasks difficult. After giving it some thought, Tong Zhanyan decided to lead a group to prepare some dry rations.

Yang Hong and the others had likely already finished their rations, and he had promised those who left later that he would provide them at cost price.

With a new crop of corn and pumpkins nearing harvest, the warehouse was nearly empty.

Tong Zhanyan led a group to sort through the supplies, selecting only the best-quality items.

The corn kernels were picked off the cobs, washed clean, dried, then ground into two sizes—coarse and fine—and packed separately.

Last time, during the beast tide, the situation on the front lines was tense, so Tong Zhanyan had only ground the corn into coarse kernels, allowing Yang Hong and his group to cook porridge directly.

Now that the beast tide has passed, he ground some into fine flour as well, so that Yang Hong and his group could try making steamed buns.

The corn was relatively simple to handle, but the sweet potatoes were more troublesome.

After washing them, cutting them into strips, and steaming them all for two or three hours, they must be sun-dried for two to three days.

With more people this time, in addition to the corn and sweet potatoes, Tong Zhanyan had over thirty pumpkins cut up and turned into dried pumpkin.

Pumpkins contain more moisture than sweet potatoes, so making dried pumpkin requires a few extra steps; it must be sun-dried to dehydrate it once before steaming.

After dehydration, it’s steamed and then sun-dried for another two to three days.

Dried pumpkin is eaten similarly to dried sweet potatoes; it can be steamed again or eaten directly.

Unlike dried sweet potatoes, which are naturally sweet, dried pumpkin isn’t inherently sweet, so when eaten directly, it’s usually seasoned with chili peppers or similar condiments.

Cutting it into chunks or slices and steaming it takes only a day, but sun-drying is too time-consuming.

While the current batch was drying, Tong Zhanyan reached out to the R&D team to purchase a large-scale dehydrator.

For long-term production, a dehydrator is definitely more convenient.

In addition to the dehydrator, Tong Zhanyan also asked them to help develop a rapeseed thresher.

The rapeseed in the fields was almost ready for harvest.

A rapeseed thresher is different from a separator.

A rapeseed thresher is primarily used to separate the seeds from the pods; it generally cannot completely remove the dust.

He had previously done this step manually.

Now that the rapeseed in the fields is growing in volume, manual threshing is no longer practical.

The dust separator, on the other hand, is primarily used to further separate the rapeseed—which has already been separated from the pods—from dust and residual pods, and is generally used for the final cleaning before oil extraction.

While the air dryer was straightforward, the rapeseed thresher was a completely new piece of equipment. It took Tong Zhanyan two or three days just to explain it to the research team.

Three days later, over 1,500 pounds of dried grain were delivered to the back door.

Qing Jiyue was in charge of the subsequent distribution and transportation.

After finishing up here, when Tong Zhanyan returned to tend the fields, the corn in the greenhouse had already passed the seedling establishment stage and was beginning to take root.

Tong Zhanyan really wanted them to grow up quickly so he could plant the wheat, but at this stage, they weren’t ready for fertilization, so he could only patiently wait.

Over the next week, Tong Zhanyan sowed crops better suited for summer growth, such as watermelons, water spinach, and winter melon.

After finishing his work, Tong Zhanyan returned to water and fertilize the corn, which had already grown above his knees.

Just as Tong Zhanyan finished his work, Su Yanran came over with two pieces of good news.

The ducks had started laying eggs, and the sow seemed to be in heat again.

As for the ducks—or more accurately, they had actually started laying eggs over a week ago—but Su Yanran had only just noticed today.

Tong Zhanyan had previously told Su Yanran that, under ideal conditions, ducks could start laying eggs in just over three months, much like chickens.

However, since this was the first batch of ducks—and they weren’t as robust as the ones from Tong Zhanyan’s previous world—they started laying eggs about a month later than expected.

With so many poultry and livestock to tend to now—feeding, cleaning up after them, and regular deep cleaning—Su Yanran was running nonstop every day and simply didn’t have the energy to check the duck nests daily.

By the time Su Yanran discovered them, there were already four eggs in the nest.

“Put them in that room,” Tong Zhanyan said. “Keep them separate from the chicken eggs. Let them sit for a while, then see if we can hatch a batch.”

He hadn’t bought many ducks; when he bought them originally, he’d intended them to be breeding stock.

“Okay.” Su Yanran cradled the four eggs carefully.

Duck eggs are much larger than chicken eggs and felt unusually heavy in his hands, which made the corners of his mouth curl up uncontrollably.

As for the pigs, Su Yanran already had experience, so he was able to tell right away.

He had come to ask Tong Zhanyan whether they should breed them themselves or hire someone from the farm again.

“You want to do it yourself?” Tong Zhanyan could tell at a glance that Su Yanran was eager to give it a try.

Su Yanran blushed. “It looks pretty simple. After the last time, I looked up a lot of information and studied it systematically… There’ll be plenty of tasks like this in the future, and it’s a hassle to hire someone every time.”

Tong Zhanyan nodded. “Then go ahead and do it yourself.”

Finally, he added a word of caution, “Have a couple more people watch from the sidelines. If they really start fighting, force them apart.”

With Spirit Beasts in this world, many things have become simpler.

Taking his instructions, Su Yanran hurried toward the small building. “Alright, I’ll go right now.”

Watching his retreating figure, Tong Zhanyan felt a mix of emotions. When Ning Langdong, Tian Xinqing, and Su Yanran first arrived, they knew nothing; now, however, they were starting to look the part.

Tong Zhanyan still went over to take a look during the mating.

The two pigs must have recognized each other, as they didn’t fight this time as they had before, though the entire process still took nearly two hours.

Throughout the process, Su Yanran remained perched on the half-wall, watching with nerves on edge.

When they finally put the two pigs back in the pen, his back was drenched in sweat.

The others who had come to help were in the same state.

While they were busy, Tong Zhanyan went into the pen to check on the other pigs.

The pigs they’d bought initially had grown plump and robust thanks to the improved feed. When Tong Zhanyan looked over, they were either sleeping or lying down, looking quite content.

The piglets purchased later, along with the nine piglets born to the sow, were now nearly grown and had long since lost their initial cuteness.

The purchased piglets were still somewhat temperamental, while those born to the sow were visibly much more docile.

The most heartening sight of all was the manure water in the septic tanks beneath the pig pens; every tank was already half full.

Lately, they’ve been using fertilizer made from fermented rapeseed cake, so it hasn’t reached them yet.

Before, with limited land and scarce fertilizer, they couldn’t save any up. Now, with more land, the fertilizer is used up quickly, but the total amount has increased, so it actually looks much more abundant.

Another thing that has flourished is the weeds covering the ground.

If before they were merely scattered here and there, now the area around the septic tanks and pig pens has become a sea of grass where not a speck of soil is visible.

Old Xu and the others had tried pulling them out of concern for the fertilizer, but the soil in this area is so fertile that it rivals the green manure fields; even if pulled, the weeds would grow back within two days.

After watching them pull them up twice, Tong Zhanyan simply told them to stop and wait until the weeds had fully grown before burning them all together to make plant ash.

Though the weeds were a nuisance, once burned to ash, they were quite rich in nutrients.

More importantly, as more and more land was being cultivated, the supply of plant ash was already running low, even though the school sent over a dozen truckloads every week.

Ten days later, just as the watermelons were ready for transplanting, the corn in the greenhouse had already grown another foot taller.

Tong Zhanyan fertilized them once more.

After the watermelons were transplanted, Tong Zhanyan organized the harvest of the corn, pumpkins, rapeseed, and sweet potatoes.

Tong Zhanyan had planted ten mu of each of these four crops this time, totaling forty mu.

It had taken them a long time to plant them, and harvesting them was even more of a hassle, so Tong Zhanyan ordered everyone to stop their other work and pitch in.

They started with the corn.

Each corn cob had only two or three kernels, and since the corn stalks were taller than a person—meaning they didn’t have to bend over—it looked like a breeze.

But that wasn’t the case.

Once the corn had grown, the plants were so tall that almost no breeze could penetrate the thicket, making it stiflingly hot inside.

On top of that, since they had to keep moving and working, they were drenched in sweat from head to toe in no time.

The edges of the corn leaves are serrated, like little saws, and one careless moment could easily leave a scratch on your skin.

The cuts themselves weren’t deep, but in that stifling, sweltering environment, the wounds became both itchy and painful.

It took over 300 people a full day to harvest ten acres.

After the harvest, Tong Zhanyan ordered them to cut down the cornstalks as well, which took another full day.

Pumpkins were much easier. Although they required frequent bending over, and the leaves and vines were thorny, at least the air wasn’t stifling.

While picking pumpkins, the group held a contest just like last time to select the longest and largest pumpkins.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t stop them; he just silently prepared his knife.

Tong Zhanyan waited until the pumpkins and corn had fully ripened before harvesting them, but with so much land, it was impossible for every single ear of corn and every pumpkin to ripen at exactly the same time.

And young pumpkins don’t keep for very long.

Tong Zhanyan had them stored separately, with the young ones set aside to feed the pigs.

By evening, after the last few pumpkins had been stored away, the group looked on with satisfaction at the ones they had selected.

The longest pumpkin was about the same as last time, around 80 centimeters.

The largest pumpkin, however, far exceeded the previous one, with a diameter of at least 60 centimeters—so big that one person could barely lift it.

The group took turns handling it, having a great time, when they noticed Tong Zhanyan standing nearby, smiling happily as he held a knife.

Knowing the pumpkin was doomed, the group was still heartbroken, but they didn’t wail like before. Instead, with solemn expressions, they took the knife and volunteered to help cut it open.

In the end, the group living by the back door even had the nerve to ask Tong Zhanyan if he could spare some for them to eat.

A pumpkin this big must be delicious.

Tong Zhanyan had intended to explain that pumpkins aren’t necessarily better the bigger they are.

Some varieties that aren’t naturally large pumpkins—when they suddenly grow to enormous sizes—actually have very fibrous flesh and low sugar content, making them taste like tasteless lumps of straw.

But seeing everyone so enthusiastic, he didn’t refuse.

The next day, the group indeed looked as pale as ghosts.

Gu Yunyang and the others who hadn’t gotten to eat it looked completely baffled when they heard it wasn’t tasty.

After harvesting the pumpkins, they pulled up all the vines as well.

The pumpkin vines had to be composted, which took another day.

After the pumpkins were all picked, Ning Langdong and his group returned to the fields to harvest other crops for the rest of the day.

Tong Zhanyan took advantage of this opportunity to finish all the necessary work on the greenhouses, the purple vetch, the watermelon fields, and the green manure plots.

The next day, the group harvested the rapeseed.

Harvesting rapeseed was quite a hassle.

Once the rapeseed pods fully ripened, they would quickly wither. The withered pods would crack at the slightest touch, causing a large number of seeds to fall out.

Even on the same plant, some pods would mature faster than others—a situation that couldn’t be helped.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t seem particularly bothered by this; after all, it was unavoidable.

Old Xu and his group, however, couldn’t help but feel heartbroken—the seeds spilling out with a clatter at the slightest touch. Who could bear to see that?

As a result, they moved with extreme caution.

This made their efficiency extremely low.

For ten acres of land, harvesting just the pods on the upper parts took a full three days.

After harvesting, some took the pods to the watermelon fields to dry, while others pulled up the remaining stalks to shred and compost.

Once rapeseed stalks harden, they become as spongy as foam and have little value for composting, but they had no other choice.

The next batch covered five hundred acres.

That night, Tong Zhanyan calculated the cost of buying another batch of oil jars; this time, he bought over two hundred of them.

After the rapeseed was harvested, the group moved on to picking the other crops in the fields, and only then did they begin harvesting the sweet potatoes.

Harvesting sweet potatoes was also quite a hassle.

First, they had to cut the vines, dig up the sweet potatoes, clean off the dirt, and only then could they load them up.

The damaged ones had to be packed separately and were to be used first for pig feed.

By the time they finished, two days had already passed.

Just as they finished, the oil drums Tong Zhanyan had purchased earlier were delivered.

There were over two hundred barrels; it took three trucks and two full trips to haul them all.

Once everything was completely finished, Tong Zhanyan had the group pick all the remaining watermelons from the field, which they then divided up and ate.

Finally, he gave the group a day off to rest.

A day later, while the others continued working on the crops in the fields, Tong Zhanyan focused on transplanting the watermelon seedlings.

The watermelon fields covered a total of ten mu—far too much for him to handle alone.

Having learned from his previous experience, Tong Zhanyan was especially careful this time.

The watermelon field wasn’t too far from the back gate, and Qing Jiyue had intended to go there as well, but something had come up at the back gate.

Four more people suffering from severe infection in a state of frenzy regained consciousness one after another, and this time, two of them had been severely infected for over three years.

Although they had long suspected that given enough time, those people would eventually wake up, speculation is one thing—actually seeing them regain consciousness, the group was still quite moved.

Especially those who had just been selected by Tong Zhanyan to help out. As Tong Zhanyan led them to take a look from a distance under their expectant gazes, their eyes even welled up with tears.

Tong Zhanyan’s base was a world apart from the outside.

Here at Tong Zhanyan’s base, there were so many crops that they couldn’t even keep up with harvesting them, yet outside, supplies still couldn’t meet demand. Moreover, many people simply couldn’t afford them, so even now, they could only watch longingly.

Tong Zhanyan’s base had been streaming for over two years, and he had already taught nearly all the various farming techniques.

The reason why his daily viewership still reaches a million is largely that Tong Zhanyan embodies all the hopes of those people.

After transplanting the watermelons, Tong Zhanyan arranged for a rain shower that night.

The day after the rain, the paleontology team contacted Tong Zhanyan.

Not only had they found the four-voiced cuckoo and the gray magpie, but they’d also discovered shells in the stream.

This was cause for celebration, but problems soon followed.

Crabs, snails, shells, the four-voiced cuckoo, and the gray magpie—the fact that so many ancient species could survive in that area clearly indicated the environment was indeed quite good.

Under these circumstances, actively capturing them would actually be destructive.

Tong Zhanyan had assumed they were contacting him to tell him his crabs were gone, but that wasn’t what they meant.

They planned to send over the newly captured crabs, snails, shells, four-voiced cuckoos, and gray magpies altogether.

“The only low-pollution areas are the upper reaches of that stream and a small surrounding area.”

“We’ve surveyed it. The stream’s source is an underground river, and it’s quite deep. That’s likely why the water quality upstream remains relatively safe.”

“Although nothing has happened yet, the underground river could change course at any moment due to geological shifts. And once the stream disappears, all life in that area will perish within a short time.”

“It will certainly be too late to take remedial action once it happens.”

As he spoke, the person in charge of contacting him sounded particularly grave.

Hearing that, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but be moved.

He might have other reasons for keeping those creatures, but the paleontologists were purely motivated by a desire to protect them.

Two days later, the items arrived.

Three crabs, five shellfish, two four-toned cuckoos, and four gray magpies.

The snails still hadn’t been found.

Tong Zhanyan did not quarantine the cuckoos and gray magpies; after taking a look, he let them fly free immediately.

Most birds are very timid creatures, especially wild birds; forcing them into cages can easily cause them to die from stress.

As for the crabs and shellfish, Tong Zhanyan chose to quarantine them.

Since he was already there, the deliveryman took the opportunity to check on the crabs that had been delivered earlier.

He waited for quite a while but didn’t see a single crab.

There were only five crabs in total, and they were all small. With the stream bank now covered in water plants and rocks, they could easily hide in any spot, making them nearly impossible to spot with the naked eye.

After seeing the man off, Tong Zhanyan opened the door to the strawberry greenhouse and released all the cabbage white butterflies, lacewings, and parasitic flies.

The birds need to eat.

Many of the cabbage white butterflies had already begun laying eggs, and the later ones were nearly ready to do so. Tong Zhanyan had previously been quite worried about losing control of the population, but now he was more concerned about whether there would be enough cabbage white butterflies for the birds to eat.

Given the size of the four-toned cuckoos, they could eat about ten cabbage worms a day. Without any other insect food, that would amount to at least three hundred cabbage worms a month.

And that doesn’t even count the lacewings, parasitic flies, and gray magpies…

Maybe he should give the cabbage white butterflies a little extra food to speed up their egg-laying?

After releasing them, Tong Zhanyan didn’t forget to let Old Xu and the others know.

Knowing this moment had finally arrived, even with the four-toned cuckoos present, the group couldn’t help but take a deep breath before bracing themselves.

They’d all seen the terrible state of those strawberries.

The cabbage white butterflies were indeed numerous now, but since they’d just been released, it was still far too early for a massive outbreak.

In contrast, the ducks were actually quite reliable.

Ever since they started laying eggs, they’d been laying one every two days, and in just half a month, they’d already collected fifty.

Tong Zhanyan set aside an entire morning to inspect every single egg before placing them in the incubator.

The incubator could hold exactly fifty eggs at a time.

Chicken eggs take about twenty to twenty-two days to hatch, while duck eggs take around twenty-eight days.

After placing them inside and adjusting the humidity and temperature, Tong Zhanyan simply checked on them at fixed times every morning, noon, and evening.

A week after the duck eggs began hatching, Tong Zhanyan threw the newly delivered crabs and shells into the isolation zone and the lake, respectively.

Since he happened to be passing by, Tong Zhanyan took the opportunity to walk around that area.

Since raising the carp, he hadn’t seen any fish floating belly-up recently.

He wondered how many shrimp are left in the river without any other food sources.

Tong Zhanyan considered the possibility of releasing some more shrimp.

Whether it was because the fertilizer had entered the river through the groundwater system and nourished the aquatic plants, or because the lake now had fish and shrimp, the visible aquatic plants seemed to be growing more and more vigorously.

Tong Zhanyan even began to worry that he might have scattered too many seeds back then.

When he scattered them before, he had done so assuming that two-thirds might die.

Now it seemed that not nearly that many had died; instead, most of them had survived.

On the way back, Tong Zhanyan spotted Su Yanran from a distance.

The geese had laid eggs, too.

Goose eggs are even larger than duck eggs—so big that Su Yanran could barely hold one in his hand.

The ducks and geese were raised together, but the geese lay their eggs about a month later than the ducks.

“The pig seems to have conceived successfully.” Su Yanran followed Tong Zhanyan into the room where the eggs were stored and incubated, carefully placing the duck egg in a separate box.

Whether a pig has conceived successfully is generally determined by whether it goes into heat again after about twenty days.

“Remember to adjust the feed; just follow what we did last time,” Tong Zhanyan reminded her.

“Okay.”

As Tong Zhanyan spoke, he randomly checked some of the eggs in the incubator.

Su Yanran came over to take a look as well.

Tong Zhanyan simply let him handle the inspection while he headed over to the greenhouse; the wheat was ready to be planted in the field.

This time, he still planned to plant only eight wheat seeds, and all of them were from the batch where the infection rate had been reduced by 2% compared to the previous one.

Since the wheat seeds were small and few in number, it took Tong Zhanyan only five minutes to plant them all. However, identifying the surrounding corn plants did take some time.

Just as Tong Zhanyan finished his work, the research team delivered the air dryer and rapeseed thresher he had previously commissioned.

The air dryer had been ready for some time, but since Tong Zhanyan hadn’t needed it urgently during that period, they hadn’t delivered it.

The rapeseed thresher, however, had only recently been completed.

The one Tong Zhanyan had ordered wasn’t a small, household-sized model, but a medium-to-large one as tall as a person—he simply had too much land.

With the machine in hand and the rapeseed having been sun-dried for some time, Tong Zhanyan arranged for the husking the very next day.

The rapeseed thresher wasn’t very effective; while it separated the seeds, they were mixed with a lot of pod husks.

Fortunately, they also had a dust separator, which worked well enough.

Even though it wasn’t perfect, the machine was far more efficient than manual labor. A group of people took turns feeding the rapeseed into it, and the job was finished in just one day.

The next day, after running them through the dust separator twice more, the rapeseeds were completely clean.

With the rapeseeds ready and considering that composting would take over a month, Tong Zhanyan had them pressed for oil right away.

After washing the rapeseeds, they still needed to be dried. Previously, they had to wait for them to air-dry, but now that they had a dryer, it saved them quite a bit of trouble.

This batch of rapeseed weighed over 2,400 pounds, yielding more than 800 pounds of oil and over 1,500 pounds of rapeseed cake.

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t eat the oil just yet, but the rapeseed cake was enough to make him happy—after all, converted into fertilizer, it amounted to over 10,000 pounds.

After pressing the oil, Tong Zhanyan immediately led his team to clean out the septic tank.

The crop residues from the last round of composting and the mud settled at the bottom were ready to be removed again.

And the waste they cleared out was perfect for expanding his green manure plots.

It just didn’t smell very pleasant.

Especially now that, in addition to the septic tank beneath the pigsty, there were as many as twenty separate septic tanks dedicated to crop composting—it was practically unbearable.

Tong Zhanyan even seriously considered the possibility of equipping himself with a gas mask.

Once the septic tank was cleaned out, Tong Zhanyan had the composting process started immediately.

The rapeseed, still carrying the lingering scent of freshly pressed oil, mixed with the odor from the septic tanks, was practically a biochemical weapon.

Tong Zhanyan became even more determined to buy a gas mask.

Those rapeseed cakes took up sixteen or seventeen septic tanks, and the previously ample supply of tanks was suddenly insufficient.

Many of the crops in the fields hadn’t even been harvested yet.

With so much land to cover, even the septic tanks beneath the pigsties would be put to use; without building new ones, there simply wouldn’t be enough.

After running the numbers, Tong Zhanyan contacted the construction team again a little later.

The next day, a group of workers arrived early.

Considering that the next batch would cover a full 500 mu of land, Tong Zhanyan ordered the construction of twenty additional septic tanks.

Standalone septic tanks are inherently larger than those built beneath pigsties. The previous twenty were already quite substantial; building more would require several mu of land.

Back when he was still working in the greenhouse, this would have been a fortune beyond his wildest dreams—enough to make him smile in his sleep.

Once the septic tanks were all set up, Tong Zhanyan turned his attention to the oil.

He sent half to the back door and had Boss Bai take the other half to sell.

Eight hundred catties of oil—in his previous world, that was roughly enough to feed a hundred people for over four months. But here, people had smaller appetites and didn’t eat as much oil.

Once the corn, pumpkins, rapeseed, and sweet potatoes were harvested, forty mu of land suddenly became vacant.

Having grown accustomed to seeing the fields packed to the brim, the group found it rather unsettling to see them suddenly empty.

So a little later, Tong Zhanyan began pondering what to plant.

If they were to make preserved food, they’d need to plant more corn, pumpkins, and sweet potatoes—especially the starchy varieties like corn and sweet potatoes.

Rapeseed cake could be used as fertilizer. The next batch would cover 500 mu, and the batch after that over 1,000 mu—they’d definitely need to plant more…

If he had to plant more of every variety, the current forty mu wouldn’t be enough.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t yet decided which crops to plant first, but the watermelon seedlings were already due for pruning.

Tong Zhanyan simply assigned the task by lottery: one hundred people, one day.

Water spinach, mustard greens, and okra don’t require pruning, but watermelons, winter melons, loofahs, and cantaloupes do need tending—and the winter melons and loofahs even need trellises.

With so many hands, efficiency was high, and by a little past 4:00 PM, the work was done.

Having made the trip all this way, the group was reluctant to leave. After looking around here and there, they gathered in front of the field of purple vetch to take photos.

The purple vetch had already reached a decent height; the faster-growing plants even had flower buds, making the sight quite spectacular.

Seeing them, everyone’s mind was filled with visions of a sea of flowers.

Tong Zhanyan, however, could think of nothing but pollination.

Three hundred mu of land—even mechanical pollination would be a daunting task. Tong Zhanyan considered the possibility of simply letting the bees handle it.

A little later, after seeing the group off, Tong Zhanyan made a trip to the greenhouse.

After the infection rate dropped by 2%, they showed no change—still as vibrantly alive as ever, enough to drive him crazy.

Ten days had passed, and they were already nearly as tall as him.

Just like last time, the corn’s infection rate had skyrocketed in just ten days; the plants closest to the wheat had even exceeded 60%.

Armed with the experience from last time, Tong Zhanyan didn’t panic this time; he simply conducted regular inspections and watered and fertilized them as usual.

The next day, just as Tong Zhanyan was about to head to the greenhouse again, he saw Old Xu and a group of people gathered together, discussing something.

After listening for a while, Tong Zhanyan realized that the cabbage white butterflies had begun to take action.

After the cabbage white butterflies lay their eggs, it takes about a week for the cabbage loopers to hatch.

Many people had never seen a cabbage looper before, and suddenly seeing one up close made their hair stand on end.

Especially when they encountered a situation where a single cabbage leaf was completely covered with them—it was absolutely terrifying.