Tong Zhanyan looked up.

The four-tone cuckoos and the gray magpie he had released earlier had not been seen since then; he had no idea whether they were alive or dead.

However, since he had already let them go, it was too late to catch them now, so Tong Zhanyan had no choice but to put his mind at ease.

As usual, Tong Zhanyan inspected the corn and wheat in the greenhouse one last time before heading to the warehouse where the corn and pumpkins were stored to begin sowing the next batch.

Currently, only forty mu of land was available; the rest would need at least another two months before it could be used. Tong Zhanyan planned to plant twenty mu of rapeseed, fifteen mu of corn, and five mu of sweet potatoes first.

Rapeseed cake can be used as compost, so he had to increase the acreage and plant it earlier.

As for corn, pumpkins, and sweet potatoes, they were now needed not only for livestock feed but also as dry rations, so he had to increase their planting as well.

Sweet potatoes require a cutting process, which depends on the leaves growing first, so they must be planted first.

As for pumpkins, there isn’t enough land, so he’ll just have to wait a little longer.

The warehouse was empty right now.

They’ve just finished harvesting, and the warehouse is packed to the brim—it feels incredibly rewarding.

Tong Zhanyan found a large crate and went into the warehouse where the corn was stored, sifting through it carefully to find ears with particularly plump kernels.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t had all the kernels shucked off the corn, since he hadn’t separated them when feeding the pigs.

Corn cobs make excellent feed, and given the previous shortage of feed, he’d simply had them tossed into the grinder along with the kernels to be ground into meal.

Half an hour later, a small mountain of corn stood on the concrete ground in front of the door, nearly waist-high.

Tong Zhanyan brought over a small stool and began picking the kernels off the cobs.

There are corn shellers available, but they’re quite rough—they’d crush the germ at the base of the kernels, rendering them unusable as seed.

Plus, since he currently feeds the pigs and chickens the corn cobs as well, he hadn’t bought one yet.

Once all the land at the farm had been cleared, the first round of soil improvement completed, and yields increased, there would still be time to buy one later.

There was an open field in front of the warehouse, with mountains and an orange grove behind it. Since Ning Langdong and the others were busy with other tasks, this area was quite quiet.

Seeds for fifteen mu of land wasn’t something one person can prepare in just an hour or two. And while manually shelling corn looks easy, it’s actually quite exhausting.

Mainly, your hands start to ache after doing it for too long.

With that in mind, Tong Zhanyan opened his terminal and contacted Qing Jiyue.

As the land expanded, he no longer had any off-season; there was only busy and busier.

And once sowing began, every day after that would be even busier than now, which meant he wouldn’t have much time to spend with Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue was writing something in his room.

“Are you free?” Tong Zhanyan asked.

“Mm.”

“Come over to the warehouse by the orange grove. I want to show you something cool,” Tong Zhanyan said.

“What?” Qing Jiyue looked at Tong Zhanyan. Had the paleontology team sent something over again?

“You’ll see when you get there,” Tong Zhanyan said, feigning mystery.

Qing Jiyue put down his pen and stood up.

Ten minutes later, in front of the warehouse.

Tong Zhanyan moved a stool he’d prepared earlier to the side and smiled, pointing at the pile of corn in front of him. “Have you ever seen corn this thick and big?”

Qing Jiyue sighed in exasperation.

The next moment, he resignedly walked over to Tong Zhanyan and sat down beside him.

With an extra pair of hands, their efficiency shot up immediately.

The two chatted idly as they worked, and time flew by; they were finished before 11:00.

There were a total of six boxes of corn kernels for planting, and Qing Jiyue helped carry them over to the small house.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t plan to transplant the corn, but he still needed to start seedlings, which required a significant number of people.

After plowing the field, Tong Zhanyan didn’t touch the corn kernels that afternoon. Instead, he took Qing Jiyue with him to plow the entire forty mu of land that had been cleared earlier.

Qing Jiyue rarely had the chance to operate a tiller, so Tong Zhanyan didn’t let him go alone; he stayed with him in the same vehicle.

By evening, just as Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue finished their work, Ning Langdong and the others had also wrapped up for the day.

That night, Tong Zhanyan caught a few chickens to treat Qing Jiyue.

Fertilizer was still in short supply, so Tong Zhanyan ultimately didn’t put chicken on the menu. As a result, whether they could eat chicken depended entirely on when Tong Zhanyan felt like treating Qing Jiyue.

Seeing Tong Zhanyan walk over carrying the chicken, the group gathered at the back door immediately broke into smiles.

The only one who couldn’t bring himself to smile was Su Yanran; at present, he was the only one still refusing to eat chicken.

The aroma quickly wafted through the air, and the dining hall buzzed with activity.

As usual, Tong Zhanyan first served a portion for Qing Jiyue and himself, then took Qing Jiyue to sit in a corner to eat.

Over time, Qing Jiyue’s complexion gradually improved, and he looked much healthier.

After finishing their meal, Tong Zhanyan didn’t head back to the front right away; the two of them went for a walk at the foot of a nearby hill.

It wasn’t until past nine o’clock that Tong Zhanyan finally left.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan began preparing for planting.

Corn and rapeseed had already been planted several times in their current locations, so this time Tong Zhanyan decided to switch them around: rapeseed would be planted in front of the small house, while corn and sweet potatoes would be planted where the rapeseed had been.

He started by planting the rapeseed first, as broadcast seeding was faster.

Last time it was ten mu; this time it was twenty mu. Not only did that require more time, but the seeds alone filled a full four large boxes.

For twenty mu of land, relying solely on the sprinkler system was already a stretch. After sowing the seeds, Tong Zhanyan didn’t have the plastic sheeting laid down immediately; instead, he left them as they were for the time being.

The next day, a group of people started with the corn seedlings.

Sowing the corn was much more troublesome; it took a full two days.

After covering the seeds with soil, Tong Zhanyan still didn’t have the plastic sheeting laid down, and instead arranged for a rain shower that night.

After the rain stopped, it wasn’t until noon the next day that Tong Zhanyan led them to cover the field with plastic sheeting.

Once that was done, Tong Zhanyan immediately headed back to the greenhouse.

Wheat matures in twenty days, and this batch was already ready for harvest.

On the surface, their size hadn’t changed—they were still much taller than the corn.

Tong Zhanyan conducted an assessment on them.

As soon as the results came in, Tong Zhanyan immediately checked the wheat.

Of the eight wheat plants, four showed no change, one actually saw its infection rate rise by 1%, and of the remaining three, one was at 76% and two at 75%.

The moment he saw those two at 75%, Tong Zhanyan’s heart skipped a beat, and a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of his mouth.

This wasn’t the first time, but the significance of this instance was entirely different from the previous one.

A single occurrence could easily be a coincidence, but now he was certain the method was effective.

Moreover, the last time the infection rate had dropped by only 2%, whereas this time it had dropped by 3%. Would it decrease even further next time?

The only question now was whether, once the infection rate dropped back below 50%, the plants would still be the same as before.

If they couldn’t return to their original state, then none of this would matter.

Tong Zhanyan immediately checked the test results for the corn plants surrounding the wheat.

The corn closest to the wheat had the same infection rate as the wheat itself; those in the middle ranged from 55% to 65%; and the ones on the outer edge were around 40%.

Compared to last time, the changes weren’t significant.

After giving it some thought, Tong Zhanyan immediately contacted Qing Jiyue; he was more efficient at handling the work in the greenhouse.

The corn seedlings had only been started recently, so Tong Zhanyan timed his visit just right and didn’t need to start any new ones.

However, many crops in the watermelon field had already begun to bloom. While Qing Jiyue was busy, Tong Zhanyan took a break to pollinate all the flowers there.

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished his work here, the purple vetch had fully entered its peak blooming period.

With a full 300 mu of flower fields, not only was the livestream bustling, but the group at the farm was also thrilled.

Seeing how excited they were, Tong Zhanyan decided to take them to the back gate for a team-building activity.

Though called a team-building activity, it was really just moving dinner over there to eat.

All Tong Zhanyan did was dig out the cloths used for drying corn and set them up as seating.

It wasn’t that Tong Zhanyan hadn’t thought about making something more elaborate, but his only seasonings were chili peppers and scallions—there wasn’t much variety he could work with.

Under the moonlight, while the others were roughhousing, Tong Zhanyan flipped through the old crop list, looking for any remaining seasonings.

Ginger had been unlocked over a decade ago and was now gone, but herbs, perilla, and Sichuan pepper trees were still available…

He did have soybeans, but with the infection rate still so high, even if he made soy sauce, he wouldn’t be able to eat it.

The same goes for vinegar.

He’d been meaning to unlock sugarcane for a while, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

As for alcohol, this was the second time he’d planted sorghum; the next time, he should be able to grow it on a large scale, though it would still take some time for the infection rate to drop.

As for oyster sauce and the like, he couldn’t even think about them in the short term—after all, he hadn’t even secured the raw materials yet.

Tong Zhanyan compiled a list of nearly thirty types of seeds in one go.

These seeds have a low infection rate, but they still need to be cultivated; it will take at least three harvest cycles before they’re ready to eat…

After finishing his list, Tong Zhanyan looked up and met Qing Jiyue’s gaze.

Qing Jiyue was quietly watching him, and he had no idea how long he’d been staring.

When he noticed his gaze, Qing Jiyue looked away.

Tong Zhanyan put away his terminal and shifted a little closer to Qing Jiyue.

The moonlight, the sea of flowers, Qing Jiyue—yet he’d been too busy playing with his terminal. He felt he’d let them down a little.

Noticing this, Qing Jiyue glanced at Tong Zhanyan, then continued watching the group of people playing and laughing ahead.

“Qing Jiyue…” Tong Zhanyan leaned closer to Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue’s expression remained unchanged, but his eyelashes trembled slightly, and his body tensed unconsciously.

They were soon mere inches apart, close enough for Qing Jiyue to catch the scent of Tong Zhanyan’s body and feel his scorching breath on his face.

Tong Zhanyan spoke slowly, saying, “Look at the cat.”

Qing Jiyue’s heart, which had been beating faster and faster, seemed to stop for a moment. The next instant, he suddenly felt a surge of irritation.

He grew increasingly suspicious that Tong Zhanyan had his Spirit Beast in his sights.

He turned to look, “There isn’t one—”

The moment his gaze fell, however, he met a pair of eyes brimming with amusement.

Qing Jiyue’s heart skipped a beat, and he realized immediately that Tong Zhanyan had done it on purpose.

Tong Zhanyan could be quite mischievous at times.

“Are you mad?” Tong Zhanyan asked, looking completely innocent.

Qing Jiyue looked away. “No.”

“You’re clearly mad.”

Qing Jiyue stood up and headed toward the small building, ready to leave.

Seeing this, Tong Zhanyan stood up and scurried after her.

Qing Jiyue stopped and glanced back, then changed course toward the shuttle, intending to return to the dormitory building—Tong Zhanyan was not to follow her.

No sooner had Qing Jiyue gotten into the car than Tong Zhanyan sat down on the other side.

Qing Jiyue looked over.

Tong Zhanyan had been teasing him on purpose all along. Seeing that he was sufficiently annoyed, he leaned in and kissed him before he could say a word.

Qing Jiyue had intended to pull away, but within moments, he’d forgotten his original plan, his mind going completely blank.

The moonlight was cool, but Tong Zhanyan’s lips were scorching hot.

When the kiss ended, and Qing Jiyue came to his senses, he had already stepped out of the car and was being led by Tong Zhanyan as they strolled through the sea of flowers.

Tong Zhanyan walked at a leisurely pace, as if the path would never end, lulling Qing Jiyue’s mind—which had only just regained its clarity—into a daze.

The crowd was bustling, and everyone was having a great time. Since they were sitting in a quiet corner, hardly anyone noticed them.

With plenty of work to do tomorrow, they didn’t stay out too late; around ten o’clock, the group began to disperse.

After watching them leave, Tong Zhanyan and Qing Jiyue also headed back.

The next day, after sending the list of over thirty seed varieties to be unlocked to Old Xu and the others, Tong Zhanyan still arranged for manual pollination.

There were already plenty of bees, but the success of these purple vetch seeds directly affected his next round of land reclamation—there could be no room for error.

Since purple vetch naturally relies on vibration for pollination, having everyone pitch in sped things up, and the work was finished in just three days.

Meanwhile, the rapeseed and corn planted earlier had reached the stage where the plastic sheeting could be removed, so the group took it off.

Afterward, Tong Zhanyan and Ning Langdong’s group transplanted the corn together, though while Ning Langdong’s group planted in the open fields, Tong Zhanyan planted in the greenhouses.

Fifteen mu of corn—even with over three hundred people—was no longer a task that could be completed in just two or three days.

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished, Ning Langdong’s group hadn’t even finished half of theirs.

Tong Zhanyan opened Green Shade and set up a raffle.

After setting it up, Tong Zhanyan was just about to go help when his terminal buzzed—someone from Green Shade was contacting him.

Tong Zhanyan saw the caller ID and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. What had he messed up this time?

The caller was Li Yuanchen, the head of Green Shade’s logistics department, who had contacted him once before. He wasn’t calling because of a mistake with the giveaway, but because, after nearly a year, Green Shade had finally decided on his reward.

“What reward?” Tong Zhanyan asked, puzzled.

Li Yuanchen paused for a moment. “The prize for the Most Valuable Streamer event.”

Tong Zhanyan vaguely recalled something like that.

At the time, Green Shade had said they would give him the next batch of seeds as a reward, but before they could deliver them, Old Xu and the others had already sent him the seed bank inventory list.

Lu Yuanchen must have found out about this, because he never contacted him again after that.

“You were asking for seeds in your livestream earlier, and it seemed like you didn’t get many of them. When our manager found out, he went out of his way to inquire and managed to track down some of the previous seeds.” Li Yuanchen looked serious, but his feelings were extremely complicated.

Contacting Tong Zhanyan wasn’t originally his responsibility; he only learned later that Green Shade had previously attempted to recruit Tong Zhanyan and had even made some under-the-table moves.

Tong Zhanyan began to catch on—was Green Shade now actively trying to curry favor with him?

Tong Zhanyan found it amusing; Green Shade hadn’t been like this back then.

He opened his mouth to refuse, but swallowed the words back.

They hadn’t actually caused him any real harm back then, and it was of little consequence to him now. But if they really had seeds he didn’t have, that might not be a bad thing.

“Lemons, taro, rapeseed, ginger…”

“Lemons and ginger?” Tong Zhanyan’s eyes lit up.

“Right.” Seeing Tong Zhanyan’s interest, Li Yuanchen breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Shall we have someone deliver the items tomorrow?”

Tong Zhanyan didn’t refuse.

Lemons aside, ginger was irreplaceable—something he’d been struggling with before.

After the call ended, Tong Zhanyan began to wait.

Before the ginger arrived, he was first visited by the paleontology team. They’d caught some crabs and were planning to send them over as well.

They’d also found snails this time—and not just a few, but a whole cluster of them, at least fifty or sixty.

Once the items arrived, Tong Zhanyan had to sort them out and quarantine them as needed.

Just as he finished up here, the seeds from Green Shade arrived, along with the ones he’d unlocked himself.

This time, he’d unlocked over thirty varieties, amounting to dozens of pounds.

As soon as the items arrived, Ning Langdong and his group immediately gathered around to check them out, and the live stream viewers joined in the excitement as well.

“I’m curious to see what’s in there.”

“Over thirty varieties… Senior’s base already has about forty or fifty types of seeds, right? With these added, is he planning to plant every single crop?”

“With seventy or eighty different crops, this isn’t just a simple planting base anymore—it’s practically a seed bank, isn’t it?”

“You’re right—it really does look like one.”

“I really want seeds for things like the purple vetch, but it seems like the seeds Senior has unlocked aren’t sold anywhere outside?”

“I want some too…”

“I’ve seen some people harvesting seeds from the crops to plant, but many of the crops are still quite tender when harvested, so the seeds aren’t very good.”

“Why don’t we ask Senior?”

…

That night, Tian Xinqing brought this up with Tong Zhanyan.

After the Planting Alliance had previously unlocked the seeds, they wouldn’t sell them to the public unless the infection rate was below 20%, as they needed to conduct research.

After Tong Zhanyan took over the list, he no longer had that concern, but since Old Xu and the others hadn’t mentioned it, he hadn’t thought of it either.

Upon hearing that someone was interested, Tong Zhanyan thought it over and asked Tian Xinqing to check with Old Xu and the others.

He personally didn’t mind; after all, holding onto the seeds wouldn’t benefit him either. If more people planted them, his goal of lowering prices would actually be achieved faster.

But the seeds weren’t his alone, so he still had to consider the Planting Alliance’s stance. Moreover, even if they were to sell them, how many and how to sell them remained issues.

Old Xu and Old Wang couldn’t make the decision on their own, so that night, the two of them contacted the Planting Alliance and held a meeting.

The next day, they conveyed the Planting Alliance’s stance to Tong Zhanyan, leaving the final decision entirely up to him.

Over a year ago, every single seed was of the utmost importance to them.

But now that the infection rate had been brought down, the seeds were naturally no longer as critical.

Besides the fact that seeds were no longer as critical, Tong Zhanyan’s own influence in this matter was substantial enough to earn their respect and trust in his decision.

As for money, the Planting Alliance wasn’t selling seeds to the outside world for profit anyway.

Upon receiving the reply, Tong Zhanyan found himself with a bit of a headache.

The purple vetch wasn’t ready for harvest yet, so even if he wanted to sell it, he’d have to wait a while longer.

However, he could sell some of the thirty-odd varieties of seeds he’d recently acquired right away.

Seeds that had just been unlocked had very low viability and still needed to be cultivated; as long as the initial seed stock wasn’t too small, it wouldn’t affect him.

Beyond that, the seeds he’d previously unlocked—ones not found elsewhere—posed a problem. He needed to sort out how many could be sold and assess their infection rates.

And prior to this, even without counting the aquatic plants, he had already unsealed thirty or forty varieties of seeds.

That was definitely a massive undertaking.

His base was already swamped with work every day; he simply didn’t have time to handle all that.

After some thought, Tong Zhanyan decided to cut through the red tape.

All seeds would be sold at a 40% discount, with no quality assessment—infection rates would be random.

Furthermore, shipments wouldn’t go through online channels; he would have Boss Bai and the others distribute them evenly to all retail outlets, just like with crops. Whether customers could actually buy them would depend entirely on the retailers themselves.

As soon as Tong Zhanyan announced this decision, Old Xu, Old Wang, and Tian Xinqing—who had come over to discuss the matter—all fell silent.

Crops were only discounted by 11.2%, but seeds were 40% off—and on top of that, many of them were rare, original varieties that people used to beg for but could never get their hands on…

They weren’t exactly heartbroken about the loss, but if Tong Zhanyan took this step, history would truly be forced to take a giant leap forward.

This was different from simply discounting crops; it was a deeper, more fundamental way of driving prices down.

In the past, they couldn’t afford the seeds or grow them successfully. Now, Tong Zhanyan had taught them how to grow them, and the price of the seeds had been driven down…

That night, the Planting Alliance and the livestream channel simultaneously issued an announcement.

“40% off…”

“But if low-infection-rate and high-infection-rate seeds are mixed together, wouldn’t you lose out if you end up with the high-infection-rate ones?”

“What are you thinking? Low-infection-rate seeds aren’t worth anything right now. What’s valuable is the reduced infection rate.”

“Aren’t the low-infection-rate ones actually worse…”

“You can’t say that. The results from low-infection-rate seeds are still much better than those from ordinary high-infection-rate ones.”

“More than that, I’m actually more worried about Senior’s base right now. Now that we have a way to grow them successfully and seed prices have dropped, if everyone manages to grow them, then Senior’s base…”

“What?”

“That base is so huge, and the lights on top are always on. Just the monthly electricity bill alone must be hundreds of thousands. Add in other maintenance costs, and the basic monthly expenses are probably over a million. ”

“Could the base one day…”

“Now that you mention it…”

“It’s not impossible. If prices really drop to the few yuan per pound Senior mentioned, and if the base is no longer needed…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, please don’t…”

“The base won’t close. Absolutely not.”

…

That night, the livestream chat was bustling for the first time in a long while.

Tong Zhanyan hadn’t paid much attention to the chat before, and now he paid even less, so naturally, he wasn’t aware of it.

But everyone at the base saw it, and it kept them all awake all night.

Especially Gu Yunyang and his group, who had come to study.

According to their original agreement, they only needed to help out at the base during their three years of study; after three years, they would be free.

And once they left, they would certainly start farming on their own.

They hadn’t thought that far ahead before, but looking at it now, it was tantamount to stabbing Tong Zhanyan in the back.

If the base were to close down one day because of this…

Over the next few days, Ning Langdong and his group were all somewhat distracted.

A week later, Tong Zhanyan finally sorted out all the seeds.

A full forty-plus pounds.

He also included some of the corn, pumpkins, and sweet potatoes that he had originally bought at great expense.

Once everything was sorted, he handed it all over to Boss Bai.

“Tong Zhanyan…” Boss Bai didn’t leave immediately; he had also seen the discussions about the base in the livestream chat.

Tong Zhanyan turned back, puzzled.

“Thank you.”

Tong Zhanyan assumed he was thanking him for the seeds, so he just smiled and went back to his work.

The corn in the greenhouse was already nearly chest-high, which meant it was time to plant the wheat.

Tong Zhanyan followed his previous method: several hundred corn plants surrounded eight wheat plants.

Some of the crops in the fields—those planted earlier—were nearing the end of their growth cycle, which meant it was time to start raising new seedlings.

Old Xu and Old Wang were now in charge of this part of the work; Tong Zhanyan only needed to check on them periodically, which was quite easy.

In addition, the ducklings he had incubated had hatched.

When ducklings are young, just like chicks, they are covered in fluffy, pale yellow down and are exceptionally cute.

When they huddled together in a group, their cuteness was doubled.

Seeing them, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but soften his expression.

Newly hatched ducklings cannot be kept with adult ducks; they would be outcompeted for food and bullied. So Tong Zhanyan dug out the swimming pool from the warehouse that hadn’t been used in who knows how long.

After settling them in and swapping out the goose eggs to continue incubation, Tong Zhanyan immediately went online to buy two sets of metal poles and netting to build duck and goose pens.

While waiting, Tong Zhanyan took a stroll through the fields he managed.

The watermelons had already begun to bear fruit, the rapeseed plants were over ten centimeters tall, and after pollination, the purple vetch had also started to set seed.

That meant the new land reclamation project could be put on the agenda.

The base currently had a total of just over 500 mu of remaining land. Given that the purple vetch already covered 300 mu, the seeds would be more than enough to cover the rest.

However, there wouldn’t be enough plant ash.

At the school, he had officially hired workers, and the first supervisor, Dai Shuda, had immediately expanded the collection area beyond the school grounds, which provided him with over ten truckloads of leaves every week.

But in just three months, the leaves certainly wouldn’t be enough to cover 500 mu of land.

Tong Zhanyan had been saving the corn stalks; burning them would cover part of the area, but it still wouldn’t be enough for complete coverage.

Tong Zhanyan planned to go out and cut some wild grass and chop some branches when the time came.

As for whatever was truly insufficient, he would just let it go.

As for the purple vetch used for land reclamation, the optimal time for burial is actually before flowering, when the nutrients in its stems and leaves are at their peak.

But previously, since he needed the seeds, he always waited until after they had flowered, set seed, and produced seeds.

This time would be different; at worst, he’d simply bury the section of land that hadn’t been treated with plant ash ahead of schedule.

The purple vetch itself was straightforward; the real challenge lay in planning.

If he were to clear all the remaining land, that would include the chicken coops and pig pens, the areas along the lake and stream, and the plot by the back gate.

The lake and stream areas were manageable; he didn’t plan to widen the riverbed in the short term, so he only needed to set aside a certain amount of space.

As for the chicken and pig pens, the ducks and geese were already hatching new chicks, and he planned to expand the rabbit and sheep herds as well. Add to that the ever-increasing number of septic tanks and pig pens, and figuring out how much space to set aside became a real problem.

The same went for the area by the back door.

Qing Jiyue’s experiments required space, and his “prison-style” luxury single-room setup meant each cage was nearly a hundred square meters.

Instead of grabbing the stakes and heading straight to the field like before, Tong Zhanyan first found a pen and a notebook and sketched a rough plan.

For the chicken coop area, he set aside double the space, which amounted to nearly five mu of land.

For the back gate area, he marked out a neat rectangle, and the rest of the land was cleared for cultivation.

Once he was done, Tong Zhanyan finally stepped outside with the stakes for marking the boundaries.

Five hundred mu of land—it took Tong Zhanyan over a day just to set all the stakes.

The next day, after finishing the last bit, Tong Zhanyan drove around the reserved path.

Taking it all in, the crowd in the livestream felt a mix of emotions.

Partly because of their earlier worries, and partly because of this historic moment.

“Even though we knew this moment would come eventually…”

“It hasn’t even been three years, has it?”

“No, not quite.”

“I remember betting with a colleague back then that he’d never be able to plant it all…”

“Ahhh—”

…

After confirming everything was in order, Tong Zhanyan went straight back to switch to the large tiller.

With an area this vast, even a large tiller wouldn’t finish in less than ten days—so he’d tackle whatever he could, bit by bit.

He had to wait until he’d finished the first pass before letting the prize winners come to help, to avoid them confusing the markings.

On the fifth day, Tong Zhanyan took a day off.

In the morning, while he was fertilizing the corn in the greenhouse, he also performed an appraisal on them.

The wheat had already grown to his chest.

Just like the previous two times, the infection rate of the corn had skyrocketed, while the infection rate of the wheat remained unchanged.

In the afternoon, he used a small tiller to mix the crop residues and soil from the septic tank cleanup into two mu of land.

That area had previously been planted with crops, but it was finally cleared.

After mixing them in, the green manure plot expanded to five mu, meaning that whatever he planted next would yield a substantial harvest.

Tong Zhanyan also took the opportunity to inspect the cherry radishes and bok choy growing in the green manure field.

The last time he inspected them, the infection rate had already been around 3% to 5%, and it remained the same this time.

The infection rate had clearly plateaued.

Tong Zhanyan had anticipated this; after recording the results, he returned to continue clearing the land.

Another five days later, the first round of plowing on the remaining fields was completed.

At this point, the entire base—over a thousand mu of land—had been fully cleared.

Faced with this, even Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions.

From the balcony to the training room, from the training room to the greenhouse, then from the greenhouse to the base, and finally to where he was now—the journey seemed long, but in reality, it had only been a little over two years.

During those two years, especially in the beginning, he would occasionally have the delusion that he hadn’t traveled through time but had simply gone mad.

Now, that feeling rarely surfaced, which made him realize one thing even more deeply: this wasn’t a dream; he truly couldn’t go back.

Tong Zhanyan turned off the engine and sat quietly in the car, gazing at everything he had built with his own hands.

He didn’t leave until dusk had fallen.

He didn’t spend much time dwelling on the past; that very night, he organized a lottery to find people to help continue plowing the fields.

Ning Langdong and the others were already nearly driven mad just by the sowing work, and simply didn’t have the time to help him.

Two days later, the workers arrived at the gate.

A total of one hundred people.

There were only five small tillers; they didn’t need that many people, but the purple vetch was also nearly ready for harvest.

After assigning ten people to Ning Langdong to till the fields, Tong Zhanyan led the rest of the group to harvest the crops.

The three-hundred-mu sea of flowers was breathtakingly beautiful from a distance, but harvesting it was pure torture.

At first, the group was in high spirits, but by noon, they looked as dejected as wilted eggplants.

By evening, when Tong Zhanyan escorted them to the gate, the group was so exhausted they didn’t even have the strength to speak.

Watching them leave, Tong Zhanyan gave a few parting words and was about to close the door when the group—who had looked utterly dejected just moments before—suddenly turned back.

“Senior, we’ll always support you.”

“I’ll keep tuning into your livestream.”

“Me too. Even if everyone else forgets, I’ll definitely remember.”

……

Faced with the group’s sudden, teary-eyed confessions, Tong Zhanyan looked completely bewildered.

He glanced at Ning Langdong beside him.

“If prices really do drop, what will happen to this base…” Ning Langdong looked at Tong Zhanyan with a complex expression.

His mother was right over by the back door; he knew better than anyone what Tong Zhanyan and this base meant to people like them.

If he could, he hoped that day would never come.

But rationally, he knew full well that if Tong Zhanyan was truly determined to lower the price, that day probably wouldn’t be too far off.

Operating costs of over a million a month—that’s over ten million a year, and over a hundred million over ten years.

Even if Tong Zhanyan had made some money now, it would eventually run out.

What was even more distressing was that once the money was gone and the base could no longer operate, the name “Tong Zhanyan” would gradually fade from people’s memories.

As he imagined that scene and that possibility, Ning Langdong’s hand, hanging at his side, clenched involuntarily, his fingertips digging into his palm.

Realizing what was happening, Tong Zhanyan froze for a moment, but after the initial shock, he found himself both amused and exasperated.

“If that day ever comes, we’ll just find another way out. Can a person really let the land tie them down?” Tong Zhanyan smiled as he looked at the group of people outside the door, who were reluctant to leave.

From having no hope of passing the assessment and only 30,000 yuan left in his pocket, to carrying hundreds of millions in his pocket—from nothing to something, he’d even cultivated a thousand mu of land. What in this world could possibly be too difficult for him?

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Hiii!! With other stories about to end, here are our new ones. Check them out:

Global Survival: From a Small Wooden Cabin to a Magic Farm
Island Survival: Life-Type Player Farms and Hoards Goods.
Lord of the Wastelands
Transmigrating to the Beast World to Farm and Raise a Wolf