No sooner had Tong Zhanyan finished his work than Boss Bai came over looking deeply troubled.

As soon as Tong Zhanyan saw his expression, he guessed what was wrong. Without waiting for Boss Bai to speak, he got into the car and headed toward the back gate, where Gu Yunyang and the others had their farming base.

A month had passed, and the baby bok choy and cherry radishes Mr. Bai had planted had indeed matured.

Contrary to Tong Zhanyan’s expectations, most of them had grown crooked and misshapen. They didn’t look like the seeds from his own supply; instead, they resembled those from outside sources whose vitality hadn’t yet been fully cultivated.

The cherry tomatoes, which hadn’t even reached the flowering stage yet, also looked wilted.

“What did you do?” Tong Zhanyan asked, looking over.

Mr. Bai gave a wry smile. “I didn’t do anything.”

Tong Zhanyan didn’t believe him. “That includes anything I didn’t tell you to do.”

Mr. Bai’s expression grew even more bitter. “I really didn’t do anything. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Old Xu and Old Wang—they’ve been watching me the whole time.”

Tong Zhanyan raised an eyebrow.

After thinking it over, he used his terminal to contact Old Wang.

A few minutes later, after confirming that Boss Bai really hadn’t done anything, Tong Zhanyan ended the call and looked over again, his expression unusually complex.

Nine out of ten people who can’t grow plants can’t keep their hands off them, and the remaining one is simply unlucky.

Tong Zhanyan could save the first nine, but that last one…

Mr. Bai gave Tong Zhanyan a wry smile. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for farming?”

Earlier, when Fang Yiguang had said that if he weren’t farming, he’d have opened who knows how many branches by now, he’d felt nothing but helplessness. But now, the person standing before him was Tong Zhanyan.

If even Tong Zhanyan thought he wasn’t cut out for it…

Tong Zhanyan didn’t know what to say at first. After a moment’s thought, he said, “This batch of soil was just cleared; it’s normal for the conditions to be a bit poor.”

Pausing, Tong Zhanyan steeled himself and added, “Once we’re done with this, let’s try again. This time, I’ll be watching you.”

Mr. Bai hesitated, but seeing the serious expression on Tong Zhanyan’s face, his tense nerves relaxed slightly.

Tong Zhanyan let out a sigh of relief, though a headache began to set in. Fortunately, once the pollination was done, harvest time wouldn’t be far off.

A week later, just as Tong Zhanyan had finished transplanting the corn into the fields, Old Xu and the others began preparing for the harvest.

Two days later, the harvest of this batch officially began.

After all, it was 500 mu of land. Even though the yield was affected by the pollination issues this time, the first batch of mature crops still yielded a total of over 200 boxes.

That was already the amount harvested during the peak season of the previous 50-mu plot.

Faced with this, while Ning Langdong and the others felt heartbroken over the lost flowers, they couldn’t help but smile.

The same was true in the livestream.

This time, Tong Zhanyan told them to harvest and sell the watermelons as well, since they were already ripe.

Once the harvest began, Boss Bai went back to work.

Before the first official harvest, Boss Bai and the members of the Planting Alliance came to see Tong Zhanyan again.

This time, Tong Zhanyan didn’t wait for them to speak; he immediately announced the discount he’d already decided on: 22% off.

A drop from 11.2% off to 22% off—a full 10% difference. This was the largest single price cut Tong Zhanyan had made since he began lowering prices, and it far exceeded everyone’s expectations.

Tong Zhanyan was determined to drive the price down, so Mr. Bai and his team had already braced themselves. Given Tong Zhanyan’s unwavering stance, they had even considered the possibility of an 80% discount.

But they hadn’t expected it to drop straight to the 70% range this time.

“Are you sure? A 22% discount…” Mr. Bai took a deep breath.

“I’m certain.” Tong Zhanyan paused for a moment before adding, “The next discount will be much lower.”

He had already given those outside ample time to prepare.

After making his point, Tong Zhanyan left.

Mr. Bai and the representatives from the Planting Alliance exchanged glances, then took a deep breath in unison.

If Tong Zhanyan said it would be much lower, just how low could it get?

Sixty percent off?

Or…

Any lower than that, and even they, in their current state, dared not imagine it.

After all, two years ago, crops weren’t just sold at a discount—they were practically impossible to buy, even with money.

Although they still aren’t readily available now, but…

In the livestream.

“78% off…”

“I was just betting with a friend that it might go as low as 82% off…”

“I bet 86% off.”

“Senior, you’ll always be my hero!”

“Waaah…”

“I can’t take this. I’m going to go cry for a bit.”

“I can’t help but get a little emotional.”

……

Tong Zhanyan didn’t help with the harvest. Once the corn was picked, he hauled the last batch of aquatic creatures to the lake and released them all into the water.

With that, unless the paleontology team discovered something new, his base could be considered to have covered all aquatic species.

As for whether they would survive and what they would grow into, that was beyond Tong Zhanyan’s control—it was up to time.

On the way back, Tong Zhanyan stopped by the livestock area.

He planned to adjust the numbers of poultry and livestock there: reduce the number of chickens and increase the number of pigs, making pigs the primary source of manure.

Initially, he had raised more chickens than pigs. Aside from chickens being relatively cheaper, reproducing faster, and having a shorter growth cycle, the main reason was simply a shortage of feed.

Now, things were different.

The base’s land had been fully cleared, and once the first batch of 1,000 mu of land was planted with crops, the pressure regarding fertilizer would ease.

With fertilizer available, he wouldn’t have to restrict the flowers so strictly; more flowers would naturally lead to higher yields.

And the feed shortage that had long plagued Tong Zhanyan in the livestock area will naturally be resolved as well.

Aside from feed, pigs are also easier to raise than chickens.

He raises his chickens free-range; unless he switches to cage-raising, he’ll have to shovel manure bit by bit, which is too much trouble.

Pigs are much simpler; they naturally defecate near the edge of the manure pit, and the rest of the area just needs to be hosed down every few days.

They won’t know until next month whether the sows have successfully mated, but if they have, two litters would yield about twenty piglets.

There are currently one hundred small pens for the pigs. With about fifty already there, adding twenty more brings the total to seventy.

Tong Zhanyan plans to build another 200 individual pens this time, bringing the total to 300.

If the farm doesn’t expand further, that will be the maximum number Tong Zhanyan intends to raise.

Going from 50 to 300 is a significant leap.

He had already set aside the land for the pig pens, so space isn’t an issue, but the pig population itself will take some time to grow.

It takes at least six months for a piglet to reach breeding age, and another three months for a sow to give birth after conception—that’s nine months in total.

Plus, the current batch has only just been bred, so it will take another three months before they give birth. Even if he keeps all the piglets as breeding stock, it will still take about a year and a half to reach three hundred.

It’s a major undertaking, but since all the base’s infrastructure is already in place, it shouldn’t be too much trouble.

In addition to pigs, Tong Zhanyan also plans to gradually purchase other livestock currently available on the market.

However, just like with rabbits and sheep, he doesn’t intend to raise too many of them. Instead, he plans to integrate them into the ecosystem alongside the aquaculture.

That way, if something were to happen to the pigs one day, other livestock could quickly fill the gap.

Given that pollution sources are everywhere in this world, this isn’t impossible—in fact, the likelihood is quite high.

Even in his previous world, swine fever was quite common.

The number of chickens had once peaked at around three hundred, but as he began culling them, the population has now dwindled to about two hundred fifty.

Since pigs serve as the primary source of manure, Tong Zhanyan plans to keep their numbers at around one hundred.

He had already hatched a batch of ducks and geese once before, and Tong Zhanyan planned to hatch another batch to bring the total of each to about 100.

The chicken coops and duck pens had previously been open-air structures, but Tong Zhanyan planned to take advantage of the pig pen renovation to remodel them into fixed wire mesh enclosures.

Tong Zhanyan planned to raise about 50 rabbits.

Since rabbits have a short gestation period, their bellies were already noticeably swollen when Tong Zhanyan checked on them.

Tong Zhanyan made a quick calculation and ordered another batch of rabbit cages through a shopping app.

The rabbit cages can be stacked, and the current shed has enough space for them, but Tong Zhanyan still plans to rebuild and expand the area into its final form while repairing the pig pen.

After checking on the rabbits, Tong Zhanyan went to check on the sheep.

Sheep have a long growth cycle; they’ve grown significantly since he first bought them, but they’re still at least three or four months away from reaching adulthood.

Tong Zhanyan plans to keep only about twenty sheep and the other large livestock he’ll purchase later—any more than that would take up too much space.

After making these arrangements, Tong Zhanyan went back and drew up some sketches, reworking the overall layout of the chicken coops and rabbit cages to ensure they were uniform in size and more orderly.

At the same time, he pre-built some pens that would be used for future poultry and livestock, so they would be ready for immediate use later on.

Once the sketches were finished, Tong Zhanyan contacted the construction crew.

Since this project involved significant changes and a lot of work, they didn’t start immediately, but came over first to take a look.

Tong Zhanyan held the sketches and led them through the entire area, following the layout.

At the same time, Tong Zhanyan began incubating duck and goose eggs.

Two days later, when the construction crew officially began work, Tong Zhanyan didn’t sit back and let them handle everything on their own as he had before; instead, he stayed right by their side, correcting any issues as they arose.

Outside the livestock area, Tong Zhanyan also had them install groundwater systems and streetlights on the newly cleared land in the back.

These tasks weren’t difficult in themselves, but there were so many of them, and they were so varied that even though the construction crew sent over three times the usual number of workers, it still took nearly twenty days to finish.

By then, the crops in the fields had entered the harvest season, and the corn in the greenhouses had grown to Tong Zhanyan’s chest.

Tong Zhanyan planted the wheat.

The next day, Su Yanran came by—the rabbits were due to give birth.

Since it was his first time, Tong Zhanyan invited someone from the farm to help.

Ning Langdong and the others had never seen rabbits give birth before, so upon hearing the news, they all gathered around to watch the spectacle.

Tong Zhanyan went to take a look as well.

The newborn bunnies were barely bigger than a thumb, completely hairless, bright red, and with their eyes tightly shut—they really did look just like baby mice.

They weren’t as cute as expected, so Ning Langdong and the others were a bit disappointed, but seeing the population double in an instant, they immediately cheered up again.

The crops in the fields were in the midst of harvest season, so this brief interlude only kept everyone entertained for a few hours; soon, they refocused their attention on the fields.

Amidst their frantic busyness, Tong Zhanyan held a raffle.

He led the group that had come with the prize to peel back the plastic sheeting covering the fields where the purple vetch residues had been left to decompose, then used a tiller to turn the soil twice.

Finally, he used a trencher to dig furrows across 250 mu of the land.

For the next batch, he planned to plant 200 mu each of corn, sweet potatoes, and pumpkins.

All three of these crops have high yields.

In his previous world, on 200 mu of land per season, corn could yield 160,000 to 400,000 jin, sweet potatoes 500,000 to 2.4 million jin, and pumpkins 300,000 to 1.5 million jin—totaling a yield of 2 to 4 million jin.

Even if conditions at this base were slightly worse, a yield of 2 million jin was still achievable.

Two million jin—with the limited livestock and poultry at his base, they couldn’t possibly consume that much in a single year. Therefore, he planned to sell the surplus directly when the time came.

Fortunately, these crops store exceptionally well and withstand transportation, alleviating the pressure of crop shortages during off-season periods.

If these three crops take up 600 mu, planting the remaining 400 mu will be much simpler.

With 500 mu currently being harvested and another 100 mu set aside for saving seeds of the purple vetch, only about 400 mu are truly available.

Sweet potatoes require time for the vines to grow before they can be propagated by cuttings.

Tong Zhanyan planned to plant 200 mu of corn, 150 mu of pumpkins, and use the remaining 50 mu for sweet potatoes.

Now that machines handle plowing and furrowing, and since the 150 mu of pumpkins don’t require furrows, the work can be finished in a single day.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan rotated his crew and began sowing immediately.

With so much land—especially for the three crops of corn, pumpkin, and sweet potato—it was no longer feasible to raise seedlings in seedling trays as before.

This time, Tong Zhanyan planned to plant the seeds directly into the ground.

Planting directly into the ground certainly wouldn’t yield as fast or as healthy growth as seedlings raised in trays, but given the vast acreage, he could afford a certain amount of loss, so it wasn’t a major issue.

Before planting, Tong Zhanyan soaked the seeds in water beforehand.

The corn seeds needed to be husked on the spot, while he had been gradually collecting pumpkin seeds while feeding the pigs, and already had more than enough.

After the lottery winners arrived, Tong Zhanyan assigned some of them to husk the corn, while he led the rest to plant the pumpkins.

Pumpkins require spacing, so Tong Zhanyan marked planting spots about every two meters, planting five to eight seedlings at each spot.

This density was a bit high, so Tong Zhanyan planned to pull out the two weakest seedlings once they sprouted.

He could already afford a certain amount of loss, and all of this had been factored into his calculations.

After the seeds were in the ground, they needed to be covered with plastic sheeting. This would help accelerate germination and maintain warmth and moisture, allowing the seedlings to grow faster and stronger.

But before that, they needed to be thoroughly watered once more. Tong Zhanyan planned to wait until after sowing, hoping it would rain soon—there was no rush.

This method was far simpler than before, but with 150 mu of land, the group was still busy for two days.

That night, Tong Zhanyan used the rainmaker to water the pumpkin field alone.

Since the area was large and far from the section where Ning Langdong and the others were harvesting, it was entirely feasible.

The next day, Tong Zhanyan rotated the crew to cover the pumpkin patch with plastic sheeting and begin planting corn.

The pumpkin work was straightforward; after demonstrating the process twice, he handed it over to the workers and went to plant the corn himself.

The furrows for the corn had already been dug. Some workers dug holes at the front, while others sowed the seeds and filled the holes in the middle.

Once the seed viability and soil quality had gradually improved, most crops were actually quite easy to grow—corn included.

After tossing the seeds into the holes, Tong Zhanyan simply used his feet to push the soil back into place, then stomped on it as he moved on to the next hole.

This was the first time they’d ever planted corn seeds directly into the ground. The group had been full of anticipation, but when they saw Tong Zhanyan step right on them, the smiles on their faces froze.

In that instant, countless questions flooded their minds: Would the seeds be crushed? Would the soil be too compacted for them to sprout?

After those concerns flashed through their minds one after another, no one spoke up on behalf of the corn.

Because they already knew that while Tong Zhanyan’s methods might seem unconventional at first, he always had his own reasons.

And he was usually the one who was right.

Though their hearts ached for the corn, they still followed Tong Zhanyan’s instructions.

Planting corn was more troublesome than planting pumpkins, but with so many hands on deck, the work went quickly once everyone got started.

Each hole was spaced about sixty centimeters apart, with three to four seeds in each.

This density was a bit high, so once the sprouts emerged, Tong Zhanyan planned to thin them out just as he had done with the pumpkins.

Three days later, after a nighttime rain, Tong Zhanyan took another chance and covered them with plastic sheeting.

With the corn and pumpkins planted, only the sweet potatoes remained.

Planting sweet potatoes was a bit more troublesome, as they first had to be cut along the bud lines.

However, with only fifty mu of land and the same number of people, it was just a little over a day’s work.

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished his work, more than half of the crops in the fields had been harvested, the wheat in the greenhouses had grown as tall as a person, and the rabbits were ready to be separated into different cages.

At this stage, the rabbits were already fluffy, melting anyone’s heart.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t even have a chance to pitch in; Ning Langdong and the others had already taken care of everything.

After finishing here, Ning Langdong and his group returned to continue harvesting; over the past two months, the harvest had gradually been drawing to a close.

Tong Zhanyan, meanwhile, turned his attention to another matter—a joyful occasion that brought him great delight.

Many of the herbs planted at the back of the field had also ripened, such as garlic.

Tong Zhanyan selected the best ones, harvested them, and immediately replanted the ones intended for sowing.

In addition to the seeds, Tong Zhanyan also set aside a portion for consumption.

He generally didn’t sell the first one or two batches of newly harvested seeds, after all, the quantity wasn’t large.

By the time Tong Zhanyan finished his work, the crops in Ning Langdong’s group’s fields had dwindled to less than one-fifth of their original amount, and large swaths of land were gradually becoming vacant.

Seeing this, Tong Zhanyan called a halt right at noon.

In the afternoon, he led a large group into the livestock area, rounding up chickens and catching rabbits, then headed toward the back gate with a pile of seasonings and corn flour.

This time, he had them catch thirty chickens and all the male rabbits—over ten of them.

Since the group already knew how to slaughter and prepare the chickens, Tong Zhanyan left that task to them while he led his own team to handle the rabbits.

Preparing the rabbits was actually simpler than preparing the chickens; due to the high infection rate in this world, the internal organs were discarded outright, and the skin simply needed to be plucked.

With so many hands on deck, by the time Tong Zhanyan’s group finished, the chicken preparation was also complete.

Tong Zhanyan had ten of the chickens blanched and set aside to be simmered into soup.

This time, he didn’t add three times the amount of water as before; instead, he planned to make a rich broth.

With so many chickens and so much water, a regular pot simply wouldn’t hold it all. Fortunately, the cafeteria had always served large-batch meals, so the kitchenware was all oversized.

Once the soup was on the stove, Tong Zhanyan sent some of the people out, keeping only a few to help.

All the meat was diced and set aside in separate containers.

He diced equal parts dried and fresh chili peppers.

Next came the garlic. Tong Zhanyan had a large bowl of it peeled, then personally sliced half and pounded the other half into a paste.

Once the prep work was done, Tong Zhanyan instructed the remaining people to prepare the other dishes for their evening meal, then set about making corn buns and stir-frying vegetables on his own.

He had previously used corn mainly to feed the pigs and chickens, and the people at the back gate rarely had the chance to eat it, so naturally, they didn’t know how to prepare it, leaving it to him.

However, this was simple; he only needed to handle the preparation part, while others could assist with the steaming and cooking.

Once that was done, Tong Zhanyan officially began cooking the chicken and rabbit meat.

With only two types of meat and no other side dishes, the options were limited, but Tong Zhanyan still managed to divide them into four separate dishes.

One was stir-fried, and one was boiled; each of these was further divided into spicy and non-spicy versions.

Since ginger wasn’t available yet, before stir-frying, Tong Zhanyan blanched each batch briefly to remove the gamey smell.

When stir-frying, Tong Zhanyan didn’t add any oil. Instead, he first picked out the fattier parts of both meats, rendered the fat, and then used that rendered fat to stir-fry the rest of the meat.

Both types of meat taste best when cooked with plenty of oil, but since he couldn’t eat rapeseed oil right now, this was his only option.

Since he was working alone, Tong Zhanyan could only prepare one dish at a time, which made the process take quite a while.

As soon as the aroma of his first dish wafted out, the group waiting outside the cafeteria began sending people in to check on the progress.

By the time he started on his second dish, they had already come in to look five or six times, their mouths watering.

By the time Tong Zhanyan had finished cooking all four dishes, the crowd could no longer sit still; they had all gathered in the open area outside the back door of the kitchen, craning their necks to look inside.

Especially Gu Yunyang and his group—who normally didn’t even get to eat crops—their eyes were practically glowing green.

Seeing them like this, the crowd in the livestream, who couldn’t actually smell anything, couldn’t help but start drooling too.

“It smells so good.”

“How fragrant must it be to make so many people look this pathetic?”

“I don’t believe it—unless I get to taste it.”

“Thirty chickens, over ten rabbits… if you sold that, you’d easily make tens of millions. Senior really knows how to splurge.”

“Senior’s always been really nice to them, hasn’t he?”

“They just help themselves to crops worth hundreds of yuan…”

“Stop it, you’re making me jealous again.”

“Do you guys think it’s possible that one day we’ll be able to pay to get into Senior’s base? Once we’re in, we could feed the chickens and pigs, grow our own crops, and eat whatever we want…”

“In your dreams.”

……

Tong Zhanyan washed his hands, made sure everyone else had finished preparing their assigned dishes, and checked the steamed buns to confirm they were ready to eat. Then he gave a nod to the group of people outside the window.

The next moment, a crowd rushed toward the door, eager to help carry the food out.

In less than five minutes, the entire group had moved to the dining hall.

By the time Tong Zhanyan emerged from the back door, they had even formed a line.

It was still a bit early, but it was already past five o’clock.

Tong Zhanyan nodded. “Let’s eat.”

The moment his words fell, several staff members on duty at the serving counter hurried forward.

While they bustled about, Tong Zhanyan nonchalantly took two trays and began serving food for himself and Qing Jiyue.

Four varieties of stir-fried meat, chicken for the soup—Tong Zhanyan took a portion of each, and a bowl of soup for each of them.

In addition, Tong Zhanyan picked up a steamed bun for Qing Jiyue.

After serving the food, Tong Zhanyan led Qing Jiyue to a corner table as usual; it was quieter there.

Once seated, Tong Zhanyan didn’t start eating right away but looked at Qing Jiyue. “Try them and see which flavor you like best. I’ll make more of that in the future.”

Qing Jiyue picked up his chopsticks.

He had already tried the chicken in the soup and the steamed buns before, so this time he tasted the boiled chicken first.

The chicken was cut into small pieces; since it had been pan-fried, the surface was golden brown, and the meat was very tender.

Qing Jiyue clearly liked it.

After finishing the chicken, Qing Jiyue tasted the boiled rabbit meat.

Unlike the chicken, the rabbit meat wasn’t quite as chewy; it was more tender with a delicate, fibrous texture.

Qing Jiyue seemed to like that as well.

For the spicy chicken cubes, Qing Jiyue picked the smallest piece to try.

Tong Zhanyan had initially thought he was just reluctant to finish it so quickly, until he saw Qing Jiyue’s face turn bright red the moment the meat entered his mouth.

“Can’t handle spicy food?” Tong Zhanyan hadn’t really noticed before; after all, Qing Jiyue rarely had the chance to eat chili peppers.

“It’s too spicy…” Qing Jiyue sucked in a sharp breath, but that didn’t help. He lowered his head to take a sip of soup.

“Don’t—” Tong Zhanyan tried to warn him, but it was too late. The freshly cooked chicken soup was scalding hot, especially since he hadn’t added extra water this time, and it was rich in fat.

Sure enough, the spicy soup caused Qing Jiyue’s face to turn red in an instant—from his cheeks to his neck and ears—and his eyes even began to well up with tears.

Tong Zhanyan quickly got up, grabbed a bottle of water from nearby, and handed it to him.

Qing Jiyue downed half the bottle in one gulp, and the flush on his face gradually began to fade.

“Then I’ll give you my non-spicy one, and I’ll have the spicy one?” Tong Zhanyan suggested.

Qing Jiyue didn’t agree. “No, thanks.”

Tong Zhanyan was a bit surprised; he had already been ready to swap.

Glancing over, Tong Zhanyan realized Qing Jiyue was staring at the spicy chicken cubes—he was clearly hooked.

Tong Zhanyan quickly realized that Qing Jiyue wasn’t unable to handle spicy food; rather, he simply hadn’t had many opportunities to eat it before.

Tong Zhanyan glanced around. Sure enough, Gu Yunyang and his group were all flushed but seemed to be digging in with increasing enthusiasm.

Seeing their expressions, Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but swallow hard; in truth, he’d been craving it for ages, too.

“Better not eat too much, or your stomach will be upset tonight.” Tong Zhanyan offered another reminder before lowering his head to eat his own portion.

The distinctive aroma of chicken, the unique texture of rabbit meat—the moment Tong Zhanyan tasted those familiar flavors, tears nearly welled up in his eyes.

Life was getting better and better; he was even eating meat—the kind seasoned with salt, chili, and garlic.

Thinking of the crops in the fields that were getting closer and closer to an infection rate of under twenty, the spices ripening one after another, the wheat in the greenhouse, and the rice seeds stored in the small building, Tong Zhanyan felt his hopes growing stronger by the day.