Chapter 115

“Are we there yet?”

“Should be close.”

…

At 9 a.m. on May 5th, Zha Te crouched nervously at the entrance of the grain station, clutching a burlap sack.

Zha Te was a resident of Ruiwei Town. He used to run a pancake shop on the outskirts of town, but last year’s locust crisis had cut off his supply of ingredients, forcing him to shut it down with a heavy heart. Later, with the development of Locust Fertilizer and Longxia signing international contracts to import bio-locusts, things began to change.

In Mali, the government encouraged nationwide locust farming. After discussing it with a few relatives, Zha Te decided to open a locust farm. Now, the farm brought in a monthly profit of 300,000 Mali coins—about 30,000 Longxia yuan. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to support his entire family comfortably.

On May 1st, Longxia released the official list for Off-site Seeds sales. Between May 1st and December 31st, Longxia would sell a total of 3 million tons of Off-site Seeds globally. The Mali government secured 300,000 tons of that. While that might not sound like much, considering each mu of land only needed five jin of seeds, 300,000 tons could cover 100 million mu of farmland.

Since Mali announced its Off-site Seeds import plan, the entire nation had been abuzz with anticipation. According to the government’s distribution policy, 30% of the seeds would go to enterprises for large-scale planting, while the remaining 70% would be sold to land-owning residents, with the quantity determined by the size of their land.

Zha Te owned ten mu of land, qualifying him to purchase fifty jin of seeds. The grain station had announced two days ago that the first batch of Off-site Seeds would go on sale on May 5th. The moment he heard the news, he came to stake out a spot at the entrance.

Now, the Ruiwei grain station was packed wall to wall with local farmers.

“Zha Te!” A tall man called out amid the crowd.

“Su Dun.” Zha Te waved in greeting.

Su Dun was thirty-three years old. He used to work at an auto repair shop, but it had gone under last year. These days, he scraped by doing odd jobs down at the docks. His weight had dropped from 190 to 130 pounds, and he looked ten years older than he had just two years ago.

After a bit of small talk, Su Dun asked, “How’s the feed factory going?”

“Not bad.”

“Lucky you,” Su Dun said, envy flickering in his eyes.

“What about you? Got any plans?” Zha Te asked.

“I’ve got fifty mu of land. I’ll plant this season and see if I can save up enough by the end of the year to start a grain and oil processing plant,” Su Dun said, his tone growing complicated. “Longxia’s really something.”

During this Global Crisis, Longxia had first sold food, then bought up locusts, and now was selling Off-site Seeds… Su Dun didn’t usually care much about international affairs, but even he knew—if it weren’t for Longxia, he would’ve starved to death two years ago.

“Yeah… they really are,” Zha Te said quietly.

He suddenly remembered how, two years ago, when he ran his pancake shop, he’d once overcharged a Longxia tourist by thirty Mali coins. It was a small thing, long forgotten—but now, thinking back on it, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. It didn’t haunt him exactly, but the regret came back from time to time.

“The doors are open!”

“They’re open!”

…

At 9:20, the grain station gates swung wide. The villagers surged forward in a wave. Zha Te didn’t hesitate—he squeezed in with Su Dun, pushing his way through the crowd.

By 10:20, Zha Te emerged, hauling fifty jin of seeds. He didn’t go home. Instead, he rode straight to his farmland.

“Zha Te!” His wife was already in the fields with their child, turning the soil.

“The seeds are here,” Zha Te said, lifting the sack off the back of his bike.

“Zha Te!”

“Uncle Zha Te!”

As he moved, more and more villagers returned from the grain station with their own sacks of seeds.

Mali had once been one of the world’s largest rice exporters. Rice was the one thing the country had never lacked. But since 3028, these farmlands had lain fallow for two years. Now, holding these familiar rice seeds in their hands again, everyone felt a deep, grounding sense of reassurance.

…

“Spread the fertilizer evenly. Don’t worry about the cost.”

On May 10th, as Off-site Seeds were being sown across Equator Nation, in Yu Province’s Zhaojia Township, at the Yangyang Lychee Orchard, Wang Shuoyang was carefully scattering fertilizer by hand.

Zhaojia Township was the largest lychee planting base in the country, home to over three hundred lychee orchards. In February of 3028, Longxia had launched an emergency harvest policy for cash crops. Half the orchards in Zhaojia Township followed the directive; the other half gambled and held off.

Yangyang Lychee Orchard had 3,000 lychee trees. At the time, they were still a month away from ripening. The family hadn’t planned to harvest early, but under pressure from local policy, they went ahead. Just after the harvest, a torrential storm hit Longnan, wiping out the rest of Zhaojia Township’s lychees. Thanks to the early harvest, Yangyang Lychee suffered minimal losses.

Over the next two years, Yangyang Lychee followed national policy, rotating between vegetables, forage grass, and wheat. They didn’t make much money during the Global Crisis, but they managed to survive and keep the family fed.

The orchard covered 200 mu. Last year, they planted sweet potatoes. The new crop had just been harvested, and the family was debating whether to plant sweet potatoes again or switch to watermelons—when news of the Improved Fertilizer broke. The moment they saw it, the whole family agreed on one thing: plant lychees!

Recently, Yangyang Lychee had ordered 500 lychee saplings from the Acid-Rain-Free Cultivation Base. This base was a high-tech greenhouse established by a tech company on land untouched by acid rain. Inside, a variety of cash crops were grown under strict conditions. To prevent acid rain contamination, the cost of cultivation was astronomically high.

Right now, lychees are selling for 221 yuan per jin, but with 90% of the lychee trees dead, they’re practically priceless—there’s demand, but no supply.

“Fortune favors the bold.” After thorough market research, Wang Shuoyang decided to use Improved Fertilizer to rejuvenate the soil and replant lychee trees. The entire project is expected to yield an investment of twenty million yuan.

Now that Improved Fertilizer is available nationwide, Yangyang Lychee has already pre-ordered five tons. The lychee orchard is currently undergoing soil fertilization. According to the product instructions, the fertilizer must first be applied in a specific ratio, and after one week, the soil can be used as normal.

“If you’re feeling hot, take a break and drink some water. Don’t get heatstroke,” Wang Shuoyang said as he made a round through the base. It was 3 PM, and the temperature in Zhaojia Township had hit a scorching 42°C. To ensure the fertilization process went smoothly, the orchard had hired over thirty workers for the job.

“We’re good,” one of the workers replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

With global warming intensifying, daytime temperatures in Yu Province hadn’t dropped below 35°C since May 1st. In just the past month, ten people in Zhaojia Township alone had been hospitalized for heatstroke.

Though the workers claimed they were fine, the brutal sun made it impossible to keep going for long. After a while, they all headed to the edge of the field to cool off with some ice water. The water had been frozen in advance and stored in foam boxes covered with quilts. Though slightly melted, the icy water was still the perfect remedy for the heat—pressing it to their foreheads brought instant relief.

Sitting in the shade, sipping ice water, the workers felt a rare sense of comfort. Just then, the distant rumble of a tractor broke the peaceful moment.

Wang Shuoyang squinted into the distance—it was his father, Wang Qinghai, driving the tractor over. It was the latest model from Changfeng, with a 1×2 trailer hitched to the back. On the trailer sat a “small hill” covered with a thick quilt.

Three minutes later, the tractor came to a stop. Wang Shuoyang walked over and asked, “Where’d you go?”

Wang Qinghai had left at 8 AM and hadn’t been seen all day, even though today was a major fertilization day.

Climbing down from the driver’s seat, Wang Qinghai pulled the quilt off the trailer in one swift motion. “Went to buy these.”

The moment the quilt was lifted, not just Wang Shuoyang, but all the workers stared in surprise. Beneath it was a mound of watermelons—over fifty large, round fruits with thin rinds and smooth, glossy skins. The green patterns on them looked like the most beautiful musical notes.

Wang Shuoyang was the first to react. “You bought watermelons?”

“The ones from Taihe are ripe,” Wang Qinghai replied. Taihe Plantation, located in the neighboring county, was a major watermelon base. He happened to know the owner.

“How much per jin?” Wang Shuoyang asked.

“Seven yuan.”

These were the first watermelons to hit Zhaojia Township this season. Seven yuan a jin wasn’t cheap, but it was still within reason.

After speaking, Wang Qinghai grabbed a long watermelon knife from the tractor and began slicing the fruit into neat pieces. With practiced ease, he called out to the workers, “Take a break, everyone. Come cool off with some watermelon!”

“No need!” the workers quickly declined. They’d heard clearly—these watermelons were seven yuan a jin. Just one slice would cost over ten yuan.

“What do you mean no need? I bought these for you!” Wang Qinghai insisted, handing out slices without waiting for a reply. Soon, every worker had a piece in hand.

“Eat up, and later everyone takes home a whole watermelon,” Wang Qinghai added.

The workers felt instantly recharged.

Five minutes later, Wang Shuoyang handed a slice to Wang Qinghai while munching on his own. “Here, have a piece.”

Wang Qinghai patted his belly. “I already ate half a melon in the field earlier. I’m stuffed.”

Taihe’s watermelon fields were the largest in the area. When he arrived, the place was packed with buyers, layer upon layer. Seeing the bustling scene reminded him of their old lychee orchard.

Though he claimed he was full, Wang Qinghai still picked up a slice and took a bite.

These were a premium sandy-sweet variety—juicy, sugary, with that perfect grainy texture. Even compared to three years ago, their flavor could easily outshine most watermelons on the market.

Wang Qinghai ended up eating two slices. When he finally couldn’t eat anymore, he looked over at one of the workers—a man in his seventies—who was staring at his watermelon, eyes red and dazed.

“Uncle Zhou, not to your taste?” Wang Qinghai asked.

The man was a relative of a local family and the oldest among the workers.

Startled, he quickly wiped his eyes. “No, it’s delicious. I just never thought I’d get to eat watermelon again.”

Ever since the global acid rain crisis, watermelons were still available, but at 70 to 80 yuan per jin, he would never buy something so expensive. At seventy-three, with one foot in the grave, he’d long given up hope of ever tasting watermelon again. But today, he had.

“What’s the big deal? When the lychees ripen next year, I’ll bring you more watermelons—and two big baskets of lychees!” Wang Qinghai said, patting his chest in reassurance, not wanting to get too sentimental.

“Alright!” Uncle Zhou scratched his head, deeply moved.

For the next five hours, the workers didn’t need any reminders from Wang Shuoyang. They worked patiently and diligently, fertilizing the land with care.

By 9 PM, the day’s work at the lychee orchard was done. Each worker left with a big watermelon in hand, their spirits high.

The evening breeze was cool and refreshing. Wang Shuoyang and Wang Qinghai stood together, looking out over their lychee fields. With the Improved Fertilizer now successfully applied, all that remained was to wait for the soil test results in a week.

“Woohoo! Our watermelon patch is finally ripe!”

“Finally got to eat watermelon again!”

“Reporting from Longnan East District—we’re eating now! 9.5 yuan per jin.”

“It’s 11.2 here. Haven’t had watermelon in a whole year!”

…

The weather was scorching hot, and while Wang Shuoyang was busy calculating the fertilizer schedule, watermelons across the country were ripening one after another.