Once it was confirmed that bee pollination would work, Tong Zhanyan lifted the ban he had previously imposed on entering the fields, so the next day, Ning Langdong and the others got to work.

In addition to the corn and rapeseed Tong Zhanyan had previously assigned, Old Xu and Old Wang also organized the weeding.

Half a month had passed, and the weeds in the fields were now more lush than ever. In some plots where the crops themselves were relatively short, the weeds had already grown taller than the plants.

Tong Zhanyan was unfazed by this sight, but Old Xu, Old Wang, and the others were heartbroken.

While they were busy, Tong Zhanyan made another trip to the greenhouse.

This time, Tong Zhanyan was certain: the wheat simply wasn’t growing as fast as it had last time.

It had been planted for seventeen or eighteen days. In the past, by this time, the grains would have already begun to fill out, and they would be ready for harvest in another two days. This time, however, they had only just begun to flower.

By his calculations, they were three or four days behind schedule.

Tong Zhanyan hurried back to the small house to fetch a tape measure, intending to record the data for comparison next time.

A few minutes later, the measurements were in.

The height of those wheat plants hadn’t changed much.

Tong Zhanyan was speechless once again, because they certainly looked much shorter.

That night, even as he lay in bed, Tong Zhanyan was still mulling over the matter.

Qing Jiyue noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“That wheat…” Tong Zhanyan gave a brief account of the situation.

After listening to Tong Zhanyan, Qing Jiyue thought for a moment, then pressed a kiss to his lips.

Tong Zhanyan’s breath caught, and his eyes darkened slightly.

Qing Jiyue looked into his eyes and kissed him again. This time, he didn’t pull away at the slightest touch as he had before, but instead deepened the kiss gradually.

“Qing Jiyue…” Tong Zhanyan rolled over, pinning his beneath him, and returned the deep kiss.

Qing Jiyue’s kisses were like a kitten purring back and forth along his thighs, making his lips tingle and his heart flutter.

Feeling Tong Zhanyan’s kisses trail downward and breathing in his scent in the air, Qing Jiyue’s breathing gradually quickened, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

He couldn’t solve the problems Tong Zhanyan was facing, but he could help him forget about them for a while.

Five days later, as soon as the weeds in the fields were pulled, without taking a break, Old Wang and Old Xu immediately arranged for fertilization.

This was a critical time; the fertilizer had to be applied promptly.

This crop’s yield was already expected to be low due to pollination issues, so pollination couldn’t be delayed any further.

Tong Zhanyan had been planning to help out, but before he could step into the field, his terminal buzzed—the aquaculture farm had already prepared the second batch of aquatic products.

Tong Zhanyan quickly took Qing Jiyue with him to gather all the fish and shrimp that had been delivered earlier and were nearly finished with their quarantine, then transported them to the lakeside and released them into the lake.

The lake was quite large; back when they first dug it, several excavators had worked together for an hour or two. When the hundreds of fish were released, there wasn’t a ripple—they vanished instantly.

Just as the two were returning after the release, the people from the farm arrived at the gate.

The second batch of aquatic life was more varied—shrimp, fish, eels, loaches, frogs, crayfish, clams, and a bit of everything.

Fish and shrimp still made up the bulk of the shipment, while the others were in much smaller quantities.

By the time Tong Zhanyan had transferred them all into his own tanks, it was already mid-afternoon.

He glanced at Old Xu and the others bustling busily in the fields and decided not to join the commotion, instead contacting the research team.

With over a thousand mu of land cleared at the base, many tasks that could previously be handled manually were becoming increasingly difficult to manage by hand.

In fact, in his previous world, tasks such as plowing, digging ditches, sowing seeds, transplanting seedlings, watering, fertilizing, harvesting, and shredding crop stalks—every step from sowing to harvest—could already be completed by machines, and most of the technology was already quite mature.

Tong Zhanyan had a general understanding of the theory, and given how advanced the technology was in this world, actually developing it wouldn’t be difficult.

It wasn’t that Tong Zhanyan didn’t want to; rather, the land and seeds had been too poor previously, and he couldn’t afford the losses that machinery might entail, so he had given up on the idea.

However, now that the land at the base had been fully cleared, seed viability had improved, and his ability to bear risks had increased, these projects could gradually be put on the agenda.

This time, Tong Zhanyan planned to develop a trencher and a crop straw shredding and recycling machine.

There are two types of trenching machines: one for small-scale farmers and one for large-scale farms.

The former is generally about the size of a motorcycle, requiring a person to push it from behind, and usually also serves as a tiller.

Because of its small size, it typically plows only one furrow at a time, meaning it takes at least half an hour to work through a single mu of land.

The latter resembles a vehicle with a row of iron plow blades mounted at fixed intervals on the rear. As the vehicle moves forward, the blades cut neat, uniform furrows in the soil.

Depending on the need, this machine can plow a width of over ten meters at a time; it wouldn’t even need to turn around twice to cover an acre.

Tong Zhanyan is interested in the latter model.

Trenchers generally don’t handle soil loosening—that still requires a tiller—so the technology behind them is relatively simple.

The only technical requirement was that Tong Zhanyan wanted a model capable of adjusting the width and depth of the trenches.

This usually gets the job done in a single pass, without needing to go over it repeatedly. Tong Zhanyan ordered only three units.

While the trencher is simple, the crop stalk shredder and recycling machine are more complicated.

Strictly speaking, these are two separate pieces of equipment.

The shredder that cuts and shreds crop stalks from the field, and the truck that runs alongside it to collect the shredded residue.

Trucks are readily available; they just need to be modified to the appropriate size. The shredder, however, is more complicated, as it must complete three steps: cutting the crop stalks from the ground, shredding them, and discharging the material.

Furthermore, this process must account for crops of varying heights, thicknesses, and types, including vines.

Previously, this process was semi-manual: workers would cut the plants by hand, a machine would shred them, and then workers would manually load the residue onto trucks for transport to the compost pit.

With the crop straw shredder and recycling machine, all it will take in the future is for two vehicles to drive through the field once, and the crop residue can be transported directly to the compost pit, saving a significant amount of time.

These machines come in various sizes; the smaller ones are typically used by individual farmers, while the larger ones are reserved for large-scale farms, capable of loading several tons of residue in a single pass.

Tong Zhanyan opted for the medium-to-large models and ordered two sets.

Unlike the large-scale farms in his previous world, where thousands of acres were planted with a single crop, his fields were planted with a variety of crops, meaning they wouldn’t all be ready for harvest at the same time.

Furthermore, crop stalk shredders can only process the above-ground parts of the plants; they are unable to handle the underground stumps and roots.

In his previous world, there were also root-stubble shredders for returning to the soil. These functioned like powerful shredders, grinding up the soil and the root systems within it into powder.

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t use that method for the time being, because even if the root systems were crushed, they would still generate heat as they decomposed naturally. During that period, it would be inadvisable to sow seeds, and the process would take at least a month.

In his former world, that amount of time wasn’t a big deal, but here, with so many people at his base desperate for crops, he couldn’t afford to waste any time.

Tong Zhanyan decided that when the time came, he would use a small tiller to dig up the root systems, collect them by hand, and then decide whether to grind them into compost or dry them out and burn them to ash.

Although this would also take some time, it would still be shorter than simply plowing them directly into the ground.

After spending some time explaining the situation, Tong Zhanyan paid the deposit.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan prepared to harvest the wheat.

The growth cycle of this batch of wheat was five days longer than the previous one. Though that might not sound like much, it represented a massive leap from nothing to something.

After obtaining the samples, Tong Zhanyan headed straight for the small building.

A few minutes later, the test results were in. As Tong Zhanyan looked at them, his palms were already burning with nervousness.

Eight wheat plants: three with a 65% infection rate, three at 64%, one at 60%, and one at 62%.

Seeing that 60%, Tong Zhanyan’s taut nerves relaxed slightly, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

When Tong Zhanyan returned to the greenhouse, Qing Jiyue—whom he had already called over to help—was fiddling with the wheat leaves.

“Be careful, they’re very sharp,” Tong Zhanyan warned. “And they’re poisonous, too.”

“They’re soft.” Qing Jiyue didn’t stop, but continued fiddling with them while looking at Tong Zhanyan.

“What?” Tong Zhanyan was confused.

“The leaves have gone soft.” Qing Jiyue waved the leaf in his hand again.

Hearing this, Tong Zhanyan, who had been puzzled for a long time, suddenly snapped out of it.

He had always thought the wheat plants had grown shorter, but after measuring them, he found no change. It wasn’t that the wheat had actually become “shorter”; rather, their leaves—which had previously stood upright like blades—had softened and drooped, making them appear shorter than before.

When he measured, he had been measuring the distance from the wheat ears to the ground.

Once he figured out what was going on, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose. They say you can’t see what’s right under your nose, and he had certainly experienced that firsthand.

In his mind, wheat leaves were supposed to grow upward for a bit before drooping downward; they had simply returned to their natural state, yet he hadn’t noticed.

“You’ve been a huge help.” Tong Zhanyan almost wanted to hug Qing Jiyue and give him a kiss.

“What help?”

“Nothing much, just pulling them out for me…” Tong Zhanyan decided not to tell Qing Jiyue about his own blunder; that would damage his image as a tall, intelligent man.

Qing Jiyue was getting more and more skilled; what used to take over a day could now be finished in a single day.

While Qing Jiyue was busy, Tong Zhanyan planted the corn seeds.

Mr. Bai had been at the farm every day lately, so Tong Zhanyan simply roped him in to help, which boosted efficiency considerably.

After finishing his own tasks, Tong Zhanyan watched as Boss Bai transplanted his own seeds.

That night, while Su Yanran wasn’t looking, Tong Zhanyan snuck out to steal a few more chickens to treat Qing Jiyue.

As he passed the rabbit cages, Tong Zhanyan glanced inside.

Rabbits have a very short growth cycle; it takes only two to three months from birth until they’re ready for meat, and the rabbits in the cages were already fully grown.

Rabbit meat tastes different from pork or chicken; it has a more delicate texture and a unique flavor.

Stir-fried with dried chili peppers—if he could just get two bottles of cold drinks to go with it, Tong Zhanyan could polish off a whole platter by himself.

Spicy rabbit heads are an absolute treat.

Tong Zhanyan had to force himself to resist reaching out.

Those rabbits were bought for breeding; if he wanted to eat them, he’d have to wait until they’d had their litters.

Given rabbits’ reproductive capacity, Tong Zhanyan believed that day was not far off.

Rabbits are polyestrous animals; simply put, they have two uteri, meaning they can become pregnant in one uterus while the other remains fertile.

Moreover, their gestation period is very short—just one month from conception to birth.

Although a rabbit can only give birth to four to twelve kits at a time, they can become pregnant again immediately after giving birth.

Taking all this into account, with two pairs of breeding rabbits—and their offspring joining the breeding pool—the population could reach over 700,000 in just one year.

That was why, in Tong Zhanyan’s former world, rabbits had become so overpopulated in some areas that they were considered a pest, and people even had to pay hunters to cull them to control the population.

Lost in watching the rabbits, Tong Zhanyan hadn’t noticed his surroundings at all. By the time he snapped back to reality, Su Yanran had appeared out of nowhere and was staring at him intently.

Or, to be more precise, at the chicken in his hand.

Tong Zhanyan gave an awkward laugh and quickly made a hasty retreat.

A group of people at the back gate was already preparing to simmer the chicken soup. After handing the chicken over to them, Tong Zhanyan went to find Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue was in the living room reading comments.

He had already published the patterns he’d summarized, and they’d been the topic of online discussion for some time, bringing with them quite a few questions.

Since this was a matter of great importance, Qing Jiyue planned to compile the most frequently asked questions and provide a comprehensive response.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t interrupt; he simply sat beside him and watched him work.

A little later, lured by the aroma of meat, the two went downstairs together.

The meat soup was tasty, but the flavor was a bit bland. Tong Zhanyan pondered the possibility of using less water next time.

The land had been cleared; it was time to get to work.

After eating their fill, the two drove to the lake behind the mountain for a stroll.

The scenery there was quite nice, mainly because it was quiet. With hundreds of people at the back gate now, there wasn’t a single spot without people.

Tong Zhanyan took the opportunity to check on the fish and shrimp they’d released into the lake not long ago.

The lake was too wide, and the stream was quite long as well, so the fish and shrimp vanished the moment they were released. Tong Zhanyan searched for a long time but couldn’t find them.

Fortunately, he didn’t see any of them floating belly-up.

There were no streetlights by the lake, so it was pitch black by a little past seven.

The utility vehicle had headlights, which were enough to illuminate a small area.

The two didn’t return until nearly ten o’clock; by then, there was hardly anyone left in the dining hall.

With more and more land to manage, even if there were fewer tasks, it was still quite exhausting when things got busy.

Two days later, Tong Zhanyan released the fish and shrimp that had been delivered into the lake as well.

With them added—even excluding the shrimp, which were the most numerous—there were seven or eight hundred living creatures in the water.

After returning, Tong Zhanyan sought out Su Yanran and instructed him to feed the creatures more frequently each day, expanding and spreading the feeding locations to five different spots.

After giving these instructions, Tong Zhanyan drove to the riverbank for a look around.

The river winds along the edge of the base; the current is swift, and the water is deep—in some places, it’s likely nearly ten meters deep.

When Tong Zhanyan first arrived, the water was so clear that he could see clearly down to a depth of five or six meters, but that was no longer the case.

Half a year was enough time for most of the aquatic plants and reeds to mature; their seeds drifted downstream into the river and, carried by the river’s natural flow, spread throughout the entire waterway. Now, young shoots of aquatic plants can be seen in many parts of the river.

Combined with the vegetable scraps they’d toss directly into the water during feeding, as well as the waste from the fish and shrimp, the river’s visibility has noticeably decreased.

That’s a good sign; it means the microbial content in the water is increasing.

However, they need to be careful from here on out. Although the river water is flowing, it’s essentially stagnant water.

If the pollution becomes too severe, not only will the fish and shrimp die—which is bad enough—but it could also make the crops in the fields sick.

The fish and shrimp feed on those microorganisms, so if all goes well, they’ll be able to keep the situation under control on their own.

When Tong Zhanyan finished his round and returned, Ning Langdong and the others had just finished applying fertilizer.

Weeds that had just been pulled from the fields were already sprouting again, and the group was having a headache trying to decide whether to keep pulling them or wait another couple of days.

The weeds were too small to pull out easily.

The stems were too tender and snapped at the slightest tug; if the roots weren’t pulled out, they’d grow back immediately.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t let them continue fretting; he immediately assigned them another task: shredding and burying the purple vetch and other plants.

The purple vetch and others had already begun to sprout flower buds; at this stage, they were at their most nutrient-rich and best suited for burying in the soil as fertilizer.

Tong Zhanyan had previously waited for the seeds to emerge before burying them, but this time he didn’t need to.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t plan to bury them all; however, he set aside about twenty mu of each variety for harvesting and seed saving.

That added up to nearly two hundred mu.

The red clover wasn’t only useful for breaking new ground; it could also be replanted on cultivated land after a period of time, which helped nourish the soil.

This was especially true for land like his, where sowing and harvesting occurred frequently—it needed even more nourishment.

Tong Zhanyan had already purchased an additional shredder earlier. With all the machines running simultaneously, efficiency was quite high. Combined with the large workforce, the work was completed in less than three days.

After covering the fields with plastic sheeting, Ning Langdong and his group headed back to weed.

In the afternoon, the last batch of aquatic products arrived from the farm.

Tong Zhanyan quarantined the entire shipment and paid the final balance.

Five days later, just as Tong Zhanyan was preparing to transplant the corn seedlings, Su Yanran came to tell him that the pair of breeding pigs they’d bought later were in heat.

After taking a look, Tong Zhanyan handed the matter directly over to Su Yanran.

Su Yanran had already spent some time learning at the animal farm and had experience with breeding, having done it once before.

The breeding didn’t go smoothly.

Both pigs had been purchased from outside and had bad tempers; the moment they saw each other, they started fighting without a word—and it was the kind of fight that drew blood.

Su Yanran had intended to wait a bit longer, but the two only fought with increasing intensity.

With no other option, a group of people quickly intervened and herded them back into their respective pens.

Two days later, Su Yanran arranged a second attempt.

If that still didn’t work, he would have to ask the farm staff to come over and perform artificial insemination.

Since they’d fought the last time they met, the atmosphere became tense the moment they saw each other again. However, spurred by their physiological responses, they didn’t fight this time.

By the time they finished, three or four hours had passed.

They wouldn’t know if it was successful until next month.

After finishing up here, Su Yanran took the opportunity to mention the previous pair of breeding pigs to Tong Zhanyan; they were nearly ready to mate again.

Tong Zhanyan left the matter entirely in Su Yanran’s hands.

Before leaving, Tong Zhanyan looked at the wounds on the two pigs and became even more determined to castrate them once the piglets were born.

In the afternoon, Tong Zhanyan took Mr. Bai to transplant his own corn.

After finishing up, Tong Zhanyan took a walk around the fields.

As the flowering season gradually came to an end, the fruits of the successfully pollinated crops began to swell.

Due to the varying pollination times, the fruits were growing at different rates, and with a third of them failing to be pollinated, the situation looked rather bleak.

Meanwhile, the red clover he’d left to grow was beginning to bloom here and there.

The bees that had been circling this field shifted their attention over there.

Tong Zhanyan had barely finished when Su Yanran came looking for him again; something was off with the rabbits—it seemed they were going into heat as well.

Su Yanran had consulted the people at the farm in advance.

Tong Zhanyan went over to take a look and confirmed that the mating season had indeed begun.

It’s quite easy to tell when rabbits are in heat; the most well-known sign is their frequent paw-stomping.

Animals in this world tend to be a bit skittish, and rabbits are no exception, though they aren’t particularly aggressive.

Tong Zhanyan had some large crates brought over and had the rabbits separated into pairs and placed inside them.

While they were busy, Tong Zhanyan stood nearby, pondering whether to stir-fry or braise them.

The female rabbits couldn’t be killed, but the males had already fulfilled their purpose.

Ginger had a high infection rate, so it was off the menu for now.

Garlic, however, was a wild variety, and since the bulbs were already about twenty centimeters in size, picking a few leaves wouldn’t be a problem.

As he pondered this, Tong Zhanyan didn’t rush to slaughter them immediately; after all, whether the fertilization would succeed was still uncertain.

That night, Tong Zhanyan pulled Qing Jiyue aside and had a very in-depth discussion with him about what he’d been busy with over the past two days.

A week later, just as the purple vetch began blooming profusely, the trencher Tong Zhanyan had ordered arrived.

When Ning Langdong and his group heard the news, they all gathered around to check it out.

Circling the machines round and round, the group couldn’t wait to give them a try, but unfortunately, there was no land available to use them on at the moment.

Since they couldn’t put them to use, the group found them all the more fascinating.

Watching this scene, Old Xu and Old Wang exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

The same sense of complexity hung over the crowd in the livestream chat.

“Back in the day, every farmer was so careful—especially the streamers, with their shoe covers, protective suits, and gloves, making it look like a lab experiment. Now there are even machines for digging trenches…”

“Yeah, and it’s been such a short time…”

“It feels like a dream.”

“I’ve always had this feeling that Senior isn’t from the same world as us, and his farm isn’t from the same world either…”

“But having tillers and trenchers must make things easier, right? With over a thousand mu of land, we can’t possibly rely on manual labor for everything—that would be exhausting. I hope Senior can take it easy.”

“It’s not that I think this is bad; I just feel like farming really has changed.”

“I get it. Before, when Senior said he wanted to lower the price of crops to two yuan per jin, I always thought it was exaggerated and impossible—after all, who knows how many acres we’d need to grow that much. But seeing those machines, I feel like it might not be impossible after all.”

“Do you guys get the feeling that the base’s thousand mu is a bit too small? Those machines are so huge—they’d be done in just two passes…”

“I do. I was thinking earlier that if we plant too little, those machines probably won’t even fit in there. Then we’d still need manual labor, which would be even more of a hassle…”

“I thought I was the only one who felt that way.”

“Compared to that, the tillers are one thing, but now there are even machines for digging ditches. Does that mean we won’t even have a chance to dig ditches anymore?”

“……”

“You up front, don’t say a word.”

“Throw him out! What kind of ungrateful son is this? Throw him out immediately!”

……

The trenching machine arrived quickly, but the shredder team hadn’t even produced a design yet.

After asking the delivery person, Tong Zhanyan took the initiative to contact the research team. If all else failed, they could simply develop several models based on the height of the crops.

The crops in the fields had already begun to swell, and combined with the pollination issues this batch faced, the harvest window would be shorter than in previous cycles.

If possible, Tong Zhanyan wanted to put them to use right after this harvest; otherwise, dealing with the aftermath would keep them busy for nearly half a month.

Most importantly, he wasn’t short on funds right now.

The research team members nodded in agreement, but clearly weren’t taking it seriously—they had their own professional integrity to uphold.

They had successfully developed everything Tong Zhanyan had asked of them before; this time, they simply wouldn’t believe it.

Because of the series of R&D projects they’d undertaken for Tong Zhanyan, they’d become renowned both within and outside the industry—they couldn’t risk tarnishing their reputation.

Most importantly, this was exactly what Tong Zhanyan wanted.

That alone was enough to make them willing to go through fire and water.

Tong Zhanyan was left both amused and exasperated.

The trencher had fascinated Ning Langdong and his group for two days, but that was all. After two days, the group refocused their attention on the crops in the fields.

After more than a year of applying manure, the fifty mu of land Tong Zhanyan had initially cleared was nearly as fertile as his green manure fields, which caused the weeds to grow there like crazy.

They had just pulled them out five days ago, but five days later, the weeds had already sprouted again.

Even when they pulled them out by the roots, they would still sprout again after a while.

This drove Ning Langdong and his group to the brink of madness.

Old Xu and Old Wang sought out Tong Zhanyan.

“Is there really no other way?”

“There is one option: developing a herbicide. But there’s a good chance it’ll end up polluting the soil just like the fertilizer solution we used before.” Tong Zhanyan struggled to suppress a smile.

After all, Old Xu and Old Wang were working for him; it was one thing to chuckle to himself, but laughing out loud would be rather inappropriate.

Old Xu and Old Wang immediately furrowed their brows; they would never allow such a thing to happen.

After a moment’s thought, the two gave up on pressing further and turned to go back to weeding.

“But we have to give it a try. We can’t keep going like this,” Tong Zhanyan added. “If it really doesn’t work, we can always give up later.”

Hearing this, the two stopped in their tracks and turned to look at him.

“But I don’t know anyone in that field,” Tong Zhanyan said.

“We do. Shall we recommend someone to you?” Old Master Xu asked.

“Alright.”

A little later, a business card was sent to Tong Zhanyan’s terminal.

Old Master Xu and Old Master Wang had clearly already spoken to the man beforehand, but the man’s voice still trembled slightly during the call.

It took Tong Zhanyan a moment to piece it together: they were originally the team that had assisted the Planting Alliance in developing the serum to treat infection-induced frenzy—just like Old Xu and Old Wang, they were among the very best in the medical industry.

A top-tier medical team, tasked with researching a herbicide for him…

For the first time in a long while, Tong Zhanyan had the illusion that he hadn’t time-traveled, but had gone mad.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t have the same general understanding of herbicides as he did of tillers; they would have to develop this on their own.

As the conversation wrapped up, the other party asked if he could send over a few potted samples of the weed.

Weeds were rampant at Tong Zhanyan’s base, but being able to grow crops outside was still a remarkable feat—though the number of remarkable people was growing, and it was gradually becoming the norm.

Tong Zhanyan agreed.

Later that day, Tong Zhanyan specifically sought out Old Wang and Old Xu and entrusted them with the task.

They were already seething with hatred for those weeds; upon hearing they’d have to go out of their way to plant them, their faces contorted in disgust.

Only after he’d walked a good distance away did Tong Zhanyan start laughing—he’d made them feel the sting of their own compassion.