Chapter 153

“This is outrageous!” On July 22, inside Fengshan Farm, Liu Wensheng slammed the folder shut in anger.

Right now, the entire world was talking about Acid Rain Algae cultivation. He had just returned from a high-level meeting, and the situation was exactly as netizens had predicted: every country was focused on one thing—how to maximize profits from the cultivation process.

Acid Rain Algae could help restore the environment, but the questions of how to grow it and how to ensure economic returns were what governments cared about most. Compared to the global environment, they preferred tangible, immediate benefits.

“The tug-of-war is about to begin,” Liu Wensheng said wearily, slumping into his chair.

His mind drifted back to the Shuilan United Conference eight years ago. At the time, Qin Yun had reported the Harma Storm, and Longxia had issued thirty-two proposals regarding the pollution in Harma. According to Longxia’s environmental assessments, the Harma region was suffering from severe chemical contamination. Mali knew about this report, the world knew, but no country cared.

Harma was a byproduct of global economic growth. Even without Harma, there would be other heavy industrial zones. Everyone knew about industrial pollution, but no one paid attention—until the first Harma Acid Rain swept across the globe. Only then did people realize the true power of industrial pollution.

Now it had been eight years since the Harma Acid Rain. Just when he thought the worst was behind them, the same familiar scene was playing out again.

A deep sense of helplessness washed over him. Even if the algae were fully cultivated, five years from now, ten years from now… as long as ecological destruction continued, the world would face the same problems again.

“What was the point of everything we’ve done all these years?”

Liu Wensheng looked blankly at Qin Yun. Longxia was no savior. Everything they had done was simply to restore vitality to their own country, to fulfill the basic responsibilities of a nation. Longxia had believed that as long as they did their part, things would improve. But now… the power of one country was simply not enough.

After Liu Wensheng asked the question, Qin Yun shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Longxia couldn’t change the world. Unless the world came together like a tightly woven rope, the same crises would keep happening.

Half an hour later, Qin Yun left. As he turned to close the door, he glanced back at Liu Wensheng. The two had known each other for eight years. Even during the Acid Rain Sickness, Liu Wensheng had stood firm like a warrior. But now, he sat at his desk with graying hair under the flickering light, looking utterly exhausted.

At 7 p.m., Qin Yun arrived at the Farm Laboratory. Due to the international situation, the atmosphere in the lab was heavy and tense. He walked around and spotted Ba Mu on the south side of the lab. Ba Mu was rinsing lab equipment, and the sink was nearly overflowing.

Qin Yun turned off the faucet.

“Didn’t notice,” Ba Mu said, a little embarrassed. He had been lost in thought.

After cleaning up the equipment, Ba Mu asked, “Still no progress?”

“None.”

Ba Mu fell silent. He had been part of the Acid Rain Algae research team. For the past five years, they had worked day and night on the algae. Now that the research had succeeded, they were unexpectedly stuck at the cultivation stage.

“Are we still going to plant it?” Ba Mu asked.

“We are,” Qin Yun replied.

He had just discussed algae cultivation with Liu Wensheng. The issue wasn’t that other countries refused to plant it, but that they didn’t want to take a loss. If the standoff continued, Longxia would restrict the export of technological products, cutting off survival goods like the Hugua Mask and Constant Temperature Jacket to countries that refused to cultivate. These policies went against Longxia’s usual diplomatic principles, but they could effectively resolve the issue.

“Isn’t that a bit too aggressive?” Ba Mu asked, worried.

“Longxia isn’t the same Longxia anymore.”

Longxia had always advocated peaceful coexistence, but that didn’t mean it would let itself be pushed around. Eight years ago, Longxia had stood firm against international pressure. Now, after enduring a series of crises—food shortages, locust plagues, tsunamis—Longxia was even less afraid.

Longxia’s thinking was simple: its 1.5 billion citizens needed oxygen, and Longxia would stop at nothing to provide it.

Qin Yun stayed in the lab for a while, then went to the Hope Greenhouse.

The Hope Tree stood three meters wide and twenty-five meters tall. Its leaves were yellowed, and even with the successful algae research, only the tips of its branches had turned green. Qin Yun placed his hand on the tree trunk. Though man and tree couldn’t communicate, he could clearly feel the Hope Tree’s exhaustion.

“Are you disappointed too…” Qin Yun murmured. The Hope Tree was an alien species. Sometimes he wondered, if it had a choice, would it rather have taken root in another world?

He stayed until 1 a.m. When he finally left, there were only a few scattered researchers still outside the Farm.

The atmosphere was thin now, and he could see the moon clearly. In this era of global hypoxia, the moon’s brightness had become one of the few remaining natural wonders.

The night was deep. He had only taken a few steps when a researcher came running out in a panic.

“Secretary Qin!”

“What is it?” Qin Yun asked, puzzled. The researcher was Xiao Zheng, who had joined the Farm last year and was mainly responsible for monitoring the Hope Tree’s data.

Xiao Zheng was panting. “Something’s wrong with the Hope Tree!”

Qin Yun’s expression turned serious. He rushed back to the Hope Greenhouse. At that moment, the Hope Tree’s roots were slowly spreading, its withered leaves turning green. Tiny new buds were sprouting from its branches, and the limbs were stretching upward with renewed vigor.

Qin Yun: ???

“What’s happening?”

“Did it grow taller?”

…

Half an hour later, Liu Wensheng, Song Yueshan, and several others arrived at the Hope Greenhouse. The Hope Tree had grown from twenty-five meters to thirty meters tall. Everyone looked around, then turned to Qin Yun in confusion.

“No idea,” Qin Yun said, shaking his head.

He had been in the greenhouse earlier, but whatever had triggered the Hope Tree’s growth had nothing to do with him.

…

“A shameless opportunist!”

While confusion reigned at the Farm, in Florisa City, Natal, James was so furious he nearly smashed his phone.

Knight Tart Shop was a long-standing cake shop in Florisa, established in 3002 and running strong for thirty-three years. James was seventy-three. He had lived through the Florisa Acid Rain, the global tsunami, the oxygen crisis… The more he experienced, the more he cherished life.

He missed the world as it had once been. Just when he was overwhelmed with nostalgia, Longxia announced its success with Acid Rain Algae. Before he could even celebrate, Natal chose not to respond.

He couldn’t believe it. For the sake of greater profits, Natal was willing to ignore the oxygen needs of its own people.

“As a citizen of Natal, I feel ashamed!”

Now, every international news site was flooded with stories about Acid Rain Algae. As a Natal citizen, James found it laughable.

A country could pursue its interests—but not like this.

He scrolled through the news for a while when a commotion erupted outside.

“We need oxygen!”

“Give us back our oxygen!”

“We need to breathe!”

…

James stepped out to take a look. A crowd of protesters had gathered, all wearing Oxygen Masks and holding signs that read “[We Need Oxygen].”

Before he could get a good look, the flower shop next door shut its doors. A middle-aged woman in a floral-patterned hazmat suit came into view.

“Grelia?” James called out. Grelia ran the flower shop. Ever since her son passed away, she had been living a lonely life.

“James?” Grelia paused.

James glanced at the time. “Closing early?”

It was only two in the afternoon. Normally, Grelia’s shop closed at five.

“No,” Grelia replied as she swapped her Hugua Mask for an Oxygen Mask. On the Oxygen Mask, someone had scrawled “[Survival]” and “[Oxygen]” in marker. It was clear she was heading to the protest.

After securing her mask, Grelia said, “If Hypoxia had been resolved earlier, Bieber wouldn’t have died…”

Bieber was her only son. He had died last year due to Hypoxia.

Oxygen tanks could ease Hypoxia, but they couldn’t cure it. Since the year 3030, over seven million people worldwide had died from the oxygen crisis. As long as the oxygen problem remained unresolved, more than three thousand people continued to die from Hypoxia every single day.

They didn’t understand politics, nor did they care about the interests of those in power. As ordinary citizens, all they wanted was to breathe, to live.

“Bieber is already gone. I don’t want more people to die because of Hypoxia.”

With that, Grelia joined the protest crowd. Among them were regular residents and families of Hypoxia victims, all shouting for “oxygen.”

People needed oxygen. Oxygen should not be a political tool.

James watched the growing crowd and picked up his Oxygen Mask.

“Mr. James?” Just then, Jack rode up on his bike to buy egg tarts.

“No egg tarts today,” James said, closing the shop door.

“Where are you going?” Jack asked curiously. James was known as a stubborn old man—he would keep his egg tart shop open even during an Acid Rain tsunami.

“To protest.”

James gave his answer, then patted his Oxygen Mask. “I hate this thing!”

As a man in his fifties, he hated the Oxygen Mask. This wasn’t the retirement life he had dreamed of.

On July 23, oxygen protests erupted across the globe.

Alongside slogans like “[Survival]” and “[Oxygen],” people held banners that read: “Thank you, Longxia. We need to survive!”

The message from the silent countries was clear: they were waiting to divide up the profits from algae cultivation before actually planting any.

That division process could take three months, or even a year. The leaders could afford to wait. But the people couldn’t. Every day, more lives were lost to the oxygen crisis. They needed to survive. They just wanted to live. Survival shouldn’t be a luxury.

“As a resident of Guqia, I feel ashamed of my country.”

“We hope Longxia can open up seed purchase channels. We’ll plant it ourselves!”

“We’ve already contacted seed companies. Production can start anytime. [Image] [Image]”

…

“Acid Rain Algae” had become the undisputed global hot topic. No matter the time or place, seven out of ten people around the world were talking about Acid Rain Algae. Though countries hadn’t reached a consensus due to disputes over algae-related profits, the people weren’t afraid. If their governments wouldn’t plant it, they would. If their governments wouldn’t buy it, they would. They needed oxygen.

“In the past three hundred years, we’ve made countless mistakes. If this crisis is a wake-up call, then we acknowledge our wrongs and hope Shuilan Star can show us some mercy,” one netizen posted online.

Global oxygen levels were dropping fast. No one could say for sure if there would still be breathable air in ten years. That thought terrified them.

Acid Rain Algae was like a lifeline thrown to the drowning. They were desperate to grab hold.

“You’re a pack of heartless wolves, abusers of the global environment.”

“Eight years ago, you stood by and did nothing for profit. Now you’re still scheming for profit.”

“Leeches sucking blood from a pile of bones.”

“You sacrifice your own Hypoxia patients for profit, while Longxia is doing everything it can for its 1.5 billion citizens…”

“I’m ashamed to be a citizen of Canpesheng.”

…

As people reached for the lifeline, they also vented their fury.

Harma’s industrial zone had been built by various countries for the sake of profit. The people had no say in its construction, yet they were the ones suffering the consequences of the Harma Storm. For a moment, the global sense of injustice reached its peak.

Between July 24 and 26, protests intensified across the world, with over 300 million people participating. The ability of Acid Rain Algae to purify oceans and enrich oxygen had already been confirmed by multiple research labs. Citizens around the globe called for mass algae cultivation. Some radical protesters even removed their Oxygen Masks in a desperate plea for the right to breathe freely.

Those radicals were quickly rushed to hospitals due to severe Hypoxia, but that didn’t stop more and more people from taking off their masks.

On the night of July 26, seventy-two more countries agreed to begin algae cultivation. Over half of them were landlocked nations.

“ASAK Enterprise plans to build thirty-two seed factories to mass-produce Algae Seeds.”

“Blue Cloud Airlines is offering 300 aircraft for the distribution of Acid Rain Algae.”

“Football star Tailan will donate 300 million Shuilan coins to the Shuilan Alliance to support Acid Rain Algae seed production…”

…

With landlocked countries joining in, several multinational corporations released statements. Alongside international donations, private aid efforts also emerged.

By July 27, global protest numbers had reached one billion, with over five billion people voicing their support.

Planting Acid Rain Algae and restoring the global ecosystem had become the mainstream movement.

Amid this global outcry, on the night of July 27, the once-silent nations of Natal, Canpesheng, and Guqia issued statements declaring their full commitment to Acid Rain Algae cultivation.

At last, all 297 countries around the world joined the global algae cultivation initiative.

The plan was structured around three key points:

1. Each country would plant algae in its own territorial waters, while international waters would be jointly cultivated by all nations, including landlocked ones.

2. For the next ten years, countries could levy a small algae tax on ships passing through their territorial waters. Landlocked nations participating in international waters would receive tax reductions proportional to their algae contributions.

3. The Shuilan Alliance would oversee the algae cultivation ratios in each country’s designated areas, to prevent cheating and ensure fairness.

These were the core points of negotiation. What had taken three months to debate now reached consensus in just three days.

On July 30, Longxia began shipping algae mother strains to countries around the world.

The global algae cultivation project was a massive undertaking, the largest international collaboration since the Harma Storm.