Chapter 68

At 4:20 a.m., staff from Dening arrived at the pig farm. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the pale glow of dawn. One of the staff peered into the farm and asked, “Is it still here?”

“It’s here.”

Two hours earlier, Wang Dashun had spotted traces of a panda and immediately reported it to the county forestry bureau. It took two hours to get from the bureau to Guihua Township. During that time, worried the panda might leave before help arrived, Wang Dashun had mixed all his household grain into panda feed. Now, the panda was full and content, gnawing on some romaine leaves in the corner.

“Are the supplies ready?” the specialist asked, glancing behind him.

“All set,” someone replied, as staff wheeled out a 2×3 meter iron cage from the truck. Inside was bait prepared in advance. Under the staff’s guidance, the panda hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked into the cage.

The moment it stepped inside, the staff slammed the door shut.

“Jiji!” The panda let out a shrill cry and began to struggle violently.

The team quickly and skillfully loaded the cage onto the rescue vehicle.

The panda thrashed so hard that Wang Dashun couldn’t help but ask, “Is it going to be okay?”

“It’ll be fine,” the forestry team leader replied professionally.

Sichuan Province has vast forested areas. Since last year’s torrential rains in Zhongnan, many animals had fled the deep mountains. In the past six months alone, the forestry bureau had rescued 320 animals—a number that continued to rise with worsening environmental conditions. Half an hour later, the team sedated the panda. Judging by its teeth and fur, it was a nine-month-old juvenile.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the team leader said, taking down Wang Dashun’s personal information before departing with the vehicle.

His wife looked at him anxiously. “Will it be alright?”

She had watched the capture earlier. Though the panda was malnourished, it had fought fiercely in the cage, its front paws rubbed raw and bleeding.

“It should be okay,” Wang Dashun replied, though he was worried too.

As they chatted, a faint grunting came from the pigpen.

It was now 5:10 a.m., and the panda had eaten all the food meant for the two pigs. Wang Dashun quickly mixed more feed for the meat pigs. One of the sows was due to give birth in a month, so over the next two days, he kept a close eye on her condition and gradually forgot about the panda.

On the afternoon of March 25th, just after feeding the pigs, Wang Dashun heard the rumble of engines outside the farm. Holding his feed scoop, he stepped out to find three forestry rescue vehicles parked at the gate.

“Captain Lin?” Wang Dashun was puzzled.

“It’s been at the rescue center for three days. Still won’t eat,” the team leader said wearily as he got out of the car.

Pandas are a national treasure in Longxia. As soon as the panda was brought back to the bureau, the veterinary team conducted a full examination. The diagnosis was simple malnutrition. But in three days, it hadn’t eaten a single bite. After multiple veterinary consultations, the conclusion was clear: the panda was suffering from animal depression.

“Pandas can get depressed?” Wang Dashun was stunned.

“Unfortunately, yes…” The team leader sighed helplessly.

They had named the panda Zhuangzhuang and planned to return it to Guihua Mountain, then have specialists monitor it in hopes of identifying the cause of its condition.

After a brief chat, the team leader instructed the staff to open the cage.

In the daylight, the panda looked even more haggard than it had at night. It blinked in confusion at its surroundings, then bolted toward the deep forest.

It moved with surprising agility. The forestry team and curious villagers followed behind.

Guihua Mountain was the largest mountain range in Guihua Township. In the past, spring would bring lush, verdant forests. But after the ravages of Harma, it now looked barren, like the desolate slopes of the northwest.

“Maybe it got depressed because there’s nothing to eat?” Wang Dashun asked as he followed the group.

“Could be,” the team leader replied, panting. He wasn’t a wild panda, but if he were, and all the animals and food were gone, he might get depressed too.

“Such a beautiful mountain, and now look at it.”

“I used to come up here to pick bamboo shoots just two years ago. Time flies.”

…

The villagers behind them sighed with heavy hearts. They had once complained that Guihua Mountain hindered the township’s development. But now that it was barren, all the bamboo shoots, chili peppers, and forlang fruits were gone. Their cost of living had skyrocketed.

Following the panda was a tedious process.

At 6:30 a.m., just as the team was preparing to head back, a sharp “jiji” call echoed from the distance. The young panda responded immediately. Everyone turned to see a larger panda limping toward them from halfway up the mountain. It too was malnourished, with visible scabs on its hind legs.

The larger panda hobbled over to the young one, who nuzzled into its chest.

“Two pandas?”

“Looks like a mother panda.”

The onlookers exchanged surprised glances.

As dusk settled in, the team leader reported back to headquarters and then had both pandas tranquilized.

At 10 p.m., the villagers and forestry staff descended the mountain.

They had climbed up in curiosity, but came down in silence. Along the way, they had seen many animal corpses—some victims of natural selection, others clearly starved to death. Many had eaten Acid Rain plants before dying, their bodies twisted in agony.

At 10:30, the forestry bureau loaded the two pandas into a vehicle.

“Thank you,” the team leader said to the villagers.

“No problem,” one villager replied, waving his hands. He had just tagged along and hadn’t really helped.

Over the next two days, Wang Dashun kept a close eye on the pandas’ condition. According to updates from the bureau, the two pandas were initially unresponsive, but thanks to the patient efforts of their caretakers, they had started eating that very night.

“What a relief,” Wang Dashun sighed.

After this experience, he began setting out an extra bowl of feed in the courtyard. He didn’t think much of it, but the next night, half the food was gone. After observing for two days, he discovered it was three marmots. Marmots weren’t protected animals, so Wang Dashun didn’t chase them away. Instead, he switched the food to a mix of romaine and grains.

Marmots were just one part of Guihua Mountain’s ecosystem. With Sichuan Province’s vegetation now reduced by 75%, who knew what fate awaited the animals next year…

On the morning of March 28th, staff from the Meat Processing Plant arrived at the pig farm.

They handed over a price list. “Here’s this year’s purchase rate—51 yuan per jin…”

Wang Dashun thought for a moment and asked, “The sow’s due in a month. Are you buying her to breed, or to slaughter?”

“To slaughter, of course,” the staff replied, surprised. Their business was pork, and they typically only bought finished pigs.

Wang Dashun felt uneasy. After hesitating, he declined.

“Wait a month and the price will drop,” the staff warned.

“I know.”

“Here’s my number. Call if you change your mind.” With that, the staff left.

After they were gone, his wife looked a bit regretful. “You’re really not selling?”

The country was currently importing frozen meat. Once it hit the market, pork prices would likely dip slightly.

“Not selling,” Wang Dashun said as he went back inside to mix feed for the meat pigs. He raised meat pigs, yes—but he couldn’t bring himself to slaughter a pregnant sow.

His wife changed the subject. “I want to plant some rice in the back hills.”

Lately, all of Longxia had been buzzing about rice and Acid Rain lettuce. Longnan had already begun leveling land, and everyone was waiting for the new seeds to roll out.

Without hesitation, Wang Dashun replied, “We have to plant!”

Sichuan Province was mostly mountainous and basin terrain. Their family had five mu of rice paddies, which used to grow double-crop rice. After the Harma rains, they had switched to sweet potatoes. While Acid Rain sweet potatoes were hardy and low-maintenance, they yielded 10,000 jin per mu on suitable land. Converted rice paddies only produced 7,000 jin. Acid Rain Seeds were tough, but still needed the right environment.

Compared to sweet potatoes, rice was a godsend for Guihua Township’s land.

“Can we pre-order the new seeds yet?” Wang Dashun opened the Longxia app. In this era of smart tech, to reduce lines and wait times, Longxia had launched a seed pre-order system. According to the latest data—

National pre-orders for Acid Rain rice: 130 million.

National pre-orders for Acid Rain wheat: 82 million.

After reading, Wang Dashun immediately placed an identity-based pre-order.

Before the seeds hit the market, they would be filtered by eligibility. Residents without farming conditions were barred from purchasing. Even so, rice was far and away the most anticipated crop in the country.

…

“Congratulations, Host! You’ve completed the Intermediate Achievement: [Relentless Research]. Achievement Reward: 1 Useful Mystery Box.”

As the nation eagerly awaited rice and seeds, back at Fengshan Farm, the system updated.

[Relentless Research]: Accumulate research on 15 native seed varieties.

Useful Mystery Box: Randomized Mystery Box Reward. [Intermediate]

Inside the Seed Laboratory, Qin Yun stood before the glass enclosure of the seed chamber, staring at the System Interface, still somewhat dazed.

An hour ago, the Planting Lab had delivered great news. Following the breakthroughs with rice and lettuce seeds, the Agricultural Research Institute had successfully developed a method to cultivate Acid Rain Pasture Grass. As a primary source of animal feed and nutrition, its significance was on par with the Longfeng-01 strain.

The moment he received the news, Qin Yun had followed Liu Wensheng straight to the lab. Inside the glass chamber were the latest pasture grass samples. As he laid his hand over the grass, a system notification had appeared.

Qin Yun switched the interface to shared mode. Liu Wensheng, visibly excited, asked, “An achievement reward?”

“Yes.”

This was the system’s first achievement reward in eight months, since [Heart of Animals] and [Heart of Peace]. Not only Liu Wensheng, but all the researchers present were overjoyed.

Pasture seed research marked an entirely new frontier. Ever since they had obtained the pasture grass standard, they had thrown themselves into the work, day and night. Just last Wednesday, they’d made a breakthrough in pasture seed development and had ramped up their efforts. On average, the pasture research team had been working fifteen hours a day, racing against time.

Everyone had expected that results wouldn’t come until the end of October—yet to their surprise, the research had succeeded ahead of schedule. Now, looking at the [Cumulative Seeds] achievement, they all felt a deep sense of fulfillment, as if their hard work had finally paid off.

This sense of reward washed away their exhaustion, and the joy in their hearts was beyond words.