Chapter 130

Mission Objective: Restore 10% of the nation’s green coverage to pre-disaster levels. The system defines “pre-disaster” as before the Harma Storm. Prior to the Harma Storm, national green coverage was 198.2 million hectares. Currently, it stands at 39.2 million hectares—just 2% of what it once was.

“What are your thoughts?” Liu Wensheng asked after reading the report.

“Now that arable land has increased, the main source of national green coverage is still forests.”

“Even with Improved Fertilizer, we can’t meet the soil recovery needs across the country…”

…

The researchers were racking their brains, analyzing the data.

The mission was divided into two parts: [Green Coverage Area] and [National Soil]. Green coverage could be restored through Soil Improvement, but when it came to [National Soil], they were completely at a loss.

“We’ll just have to keep researching.” Though everyone was confused, they had no choice but to press forward. At 9 PM, the Agricultural Group held a small meeting back in the lab. Qin Yun stayed behind to help Liu Wensheng organize the remaining documents.

“Getting used to things?” Liu Wensheng asked casually. He’d noticed Qin Yun zoning out a few times during the meeting.

“I’m okay.”

Qin Yun scratched his head. He’d spent half a month in the Arctic, then another half month at Jiangcheng Hospital. No wonder he’d been a little out of it during the meeting.

“Go get some rest. Tomorrow, go check out the plantation,” Liu Wensheng said. Qin Yun had the ability to assess the condition of the plantation’s trees, and the plantation had already sent three reminders.

“Got it.” Qin Yun chuckled. He finally understood why the plantation kept sending them fruit every few days…

“Ahem!” After a few more words, Liu Wensheng suddenly let out a heavy cough.

“Should I call the medical team?” Qin Yun asked quickly.

“No need.” Liu Wensheng waved it off. He’d been coughing since February—five months now. The medical team had diagnosed it as typical Acid Rain Sickness. For some, it healed on its own; for others, it just took time to wear down.

…

“Ahem.” At the same time Liu Wensheng was coughing, in Pingshui Town, Changlong County, Su Province, Wang Xuecai was also coughing.

Wang Mengying looked at him with concern. “Should we go to Jinghe for a check-up?”

Wang Xuecai poured himself a cup of hot water. “No need.”

Since February, there had been 50,000 confirmed cases of Acid Rain Sickness nationwide. Symptoms included chest tightness, shortness of breath, headaches, and nausea. Wang Xuecai had already been checked at a hospital in Su Province. The illness was caused by high levels of heavy metals in the air. Even if treated, it was prone to relapse.

“Did the feed get delivered to Sinan County?” Wang Xuecai asked.

“It was delivered this afternoon. Payment will be made tomorrow.”

“I’ve known Factory Director Zhao for twenty years. He’s a good man. If they’re short on cash, we can wait until next month to collect…”

Wang Xuecai rambled on. The family now ran a wheat base, a watermelon base, and a feed production plant—they weren’t short on money. Maybe it was age, but he cared less and less about money these days.

“I know,” Wang Mengying replied.

“Anyone home?” someone shouted from outside.

“Coming!” Wang Mengying stepped out.

“Longxia Express.” The courier handed over a package.

It was a small 2×2 delivery box. After signing for it, Wang Mengying opened it to find two pure white masks inside, each printed with the “Fengshan Purification” logo.

“Fengshan Mask?” the courier asked curiously.

“I tried for three weeks and couldn’t get one.”

“I tried for three weeks too. These high-tech masks are something else—super breathable.” The courier pointed to the mask he was wearing. Now that the Dongshan Cold Wind Series had launched, the Fengshan base had converted its temperature-controlled production lines into purification lines, easing the shortage of Purification Masks.

“At midnight on July 16, seventy-eight cases of Hugua Virus were reported in Southern Natal. The virus has now spread to thirty-two countries.”

“Longxia News: Starting July 17, Longxia will increase customs inspections on seafood imports…”

…

At 9:10 PM, when Wang Mengying returned inside, Wang Xuecai was watching the Evening News.

“There are now 923 global cases of Hugua Virus,” Wang Xuecai said, eyes on the screen.

“Wasn’t it 725 yesterday?”

“That was yesterday’s number.”

…

Hugua Virus was a minor, treatable illness. Wang Mengying glanced at the screen, then opened the delivery box. “These masks are for you.”

“They look high-end.” Wang Xuecai put one on. He was indoors, so saying the air changed immediately might be an exaggeration—but it definitely felt way better than a regular mask!

Wang Xuecai touched the mask and asked again, “Did the feed get delivered to Sinan County?”

“What?”

“I’ve known Factory Director Zhao for twenty years. He’s a good man…” Wang Xuecai spoke casually, but halfway through, he noticed something was off with Wang Mengying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You already asked me about the Sinan County feed,” Wang Mengying said, stunned.

“Did I?” Wang Xuecai looked confused.

At first, Wang Mengying thought it was just normal forgetfulness. But the next morning, Wang Xuecai asked about the Sinan County feed again—and was puzzled to see an extra mask on the table. That’s when Wang Mengying realized something was wrong and immediately contacted Wang Dajun.

Wang Dajun was busy managing the feed factory, but after hearing what happened, he rushed home.

That afternoon, the two of them took Wang Xuecai to the hospital.

“How old is the patient? Any medical history?” the doctor asked after completing a series of examinations.

“Seventy-two. He has Acid Rain Sickness.”

Three hours later, after reviewing all the data, the doctor said, “It’s a virus-induced case of Alzheimer’s Disease.”

“A virus?” Wang Mengying asked. She had already prepared herself for Wang Xuecai developing Alzheimer’s, but the mention of a “virus” left her puzzled.

“What kind of virus?”

The doctor closed the report. “Acid Rain Sickness.”

Acid Rain Sickness is caused by environmental pollution. In addition to respiratory illnesses, one of its major characteristics is elevated levels of heavy metals like lead and mercury in the body. Excessive lead and mercury can cause sluggish cognitive responses, and even trigger cancer or Alzheimer’s. In the past six months alone, there have been over five hundred reported cases of Acid Rain-induced dementia nationwide. And it’s not just the elderly—cases among people aged 20 to 30 are steadily rising.

Wang Dajun went to pay the medical fees. Wang Mengying sat with Wang Xuecai in the corridor. She observed the steady stream of patients coming and going. Many wore masks, and out of every ten people, three were coughing…

“Level-4 pollution in Luo Hai—it doesn’t feel like an international city at all.”

“This week’s average temperature is forty-six degrees. The Baihe wildfire still isn’t out.”

“My brand-new electric car just spontaneously combusted.”

…

From July 17 to 20, the national average temperature hit forty-six degrees Celsius. The Dongshan Cold Wind Series—portable cooling units—became like walking air conditioners. But they only cooled the human body; surfaces like roads, utility poles, and cars reached temperatures of seventy-three degrees.

The Baihe Forest Scenic Area in Yun Province, once a nationally renowned 5A-rated tourist destination, was reduced to bare tree trunks after the Acid Rain. On July 18, Yun Province recorded a high of fifty-two degrees. The dried-out trees in Baihe caught fire, and the blaze spread across 120,000 mu. Firefighting efforts are still ongoing. In just one week, in addition to forest fires, over thirty cases of electric vehicles spontaneously combusting were reported across the country.

“Coordinates: Shaan Province. I was walking and suddenly felt dizzy, like I was running out of oxygen.”

“Same here. At first, I thought it was heatstroke!”

“I just saw on Shuilan United News—seaweed in the Will Strait and the Equatorial Sea seems to be deteriorating.”

…

Netizens began discussing the air quality. Due to Acid Rain and extreme heat, air pollution has worsened nationwide. In addition to elevated levels of heavy metals, people could clearly feel the air wasn’t what it used to be.

“You can’t even go outside without a mask now.”

“Regular masks don’t help much—get a Fengshan Mask.”

“Dongshan has already set up a mask production line. New models should be available next month…”

…

People reflected on the past two years. Ever since the Harma Storm, it felt like the whole world had changed. No one had expected a single Acid Rain event to cause this much damage.

Over the next two days, two major global news stories broke.

[Polar sea levels have risen 5 cm compared to 3029. Thirty-two polar nations—including Uke, Tulai, and Niboji—have requested territory relocation.]

[As of July 23, there have been 100,000 confirmed cases of Hugua Virus worldwide.]

…

“I just watched a video—whole cities in Uke are underwater.”

“Reminds me of Kaman…”

“Sigh.”

…

Since Kaman filed for national dissolution, twenty-seven countries have followed suit. Most were island nations with populations around 100,000. They were so small, many people only learned of their existence through their applications to dissolve.

At first, no one paid much attention. But as more and more countries collapsed, people in Longxia began to feel grateful for where they lived.

On July 24, just when everyone expected Longxia to make a statement about rising sea levels, the government announced five new policies.

1. Starting July 25, Longxia will ban the import of 156 types of marine fish, including smelt, turbot, and tilapia, and will tighten customs inspections and regulations.

2. Starting July 25, all overseas arrivals and returning citizens must undergo Hugua Virus testing and be quarantined at designated hotels.

3. Starting July 25, strict controls will be placed on applications for foreign nationals entering or exiting Longxia.

…

…

All five policies were related to the Hugua Virus. Since they all took effect on the 25th, netizens dubbed them the “Twenty-Fifth Day Policy.” In addition to these measures, Longxia called on the world to take the Hugua Virus seriously and to guard against potential mutations.

“Damn it! I was supposed to travel to Canpesheng on the 30th—now I have to go into quarantine?”

“Every headline this past half-month has been about the Hugua Virus. Are we overreacting?”

“The Hugua Virus is foreign. Feels like they’re blowing it out of proportion…”

…

Back on June 26, when the first infected animal carcasses were discovered, there was a wave of global panic. But after extensive research by countless countries, the Hugua Virus was deemed a minor virus. With over 30,000 known viruses worldwide, this one seemed no worse than a common cold.

“Feels like everyone’s overreacting,” netizens said, confused.

“Global Daily: Longxia’s Response to the Hugua Virus.”

“Hugua Virus: A Special Virus Drawing Intense Attention from Longxia.”

…

Longxia’s netizens weren’t the only ones confused—many foreign nations were puzzled too. While the virus was being taken seriously, every clause in the “Twenty-Fifth Day Policy” required massive manpower and resources. These policies would inevitably trigger a chain reaction in the national economy. Implementing them before confirming whether the Hugua Virus had mutated seemed like putting the cart before the horse.

The July “Twenty-Fifth Day Policy” hit like a thunderclap. At midnight on July 25, Longxia officially put it into effect.

…

“Why quarantine people who aren’t even sick?”

“I just got off the plane. I’ll find an empty corridor and sneak out.”

“The policy just started. It probably won’t be enforced that fast…”

…

At 3 a.m. on July 25, Wu Haoyang disembarked from the plane, his face full of irritation.

Wu Haoyang was twenty-seven this year, an international travel blogger. According to his original plan, he would return to the country on the 28th and head to Mali again on the 3rd of next month. It was a comfortable work rhythm. But who would’ve thought—yesterday morning, Longxia suddenly announced the Twenty-Fifth Day Policy, giving the public no time to react at all.

After discussing it with his team, he decided to return home early. He had already made up his mind: once he left for Mali on the 3rd, he would stay there for six months and wait for the quarantine policy to ease before coming back.

Lost in thought, Wu Haoyang got off the plane, passed through the gate, and was just about to exit the airport…

“Hold on a moment.” Just as he was about to leave, two staff members stopped him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Sorry, we need to conduct a Hugua Virus test,” one of them said, holding up the official document issued on the 25th.

Wu Haoyang pointed at the time on his phone. “It’s 2:20?”

The staff member gave him an apologetic look.

Wu Haoyang: …

He remembered what someone had just said: “The policy just started, it won’t take effect that fast.”

Not only had it taken effect immediately—it left zero time to respond!

“We just got off the plane, there’s no way we’re infected.”

“Hugua is just a cold—it’s nothing serious.”

“Look at the news—over thirty thousand people abroad have already recovered.”

…

Wu Haoyang argued with the staff, while other returning passengers at the airport were visibly agitated. But since it was a national policy, after a headcount, all 320 returnees at the airport were informed they would undergo temporary quarantine at an airport hotel.

Because the policy had just been issued, returnees only needed to pay for meals at a standard rate. From July 25 to August 15, the government would cover accommodation costs. After that, quarantine fees would still be charged at a subsidized rate.