Chapter 87

“I said we didn’t need to go back, but Dafei said the baby’s full-month celebration is coming up, and he wants to bring him back to meet the family,” said the voice on the other end of the phone.

Wu Xiuli and Zhao Shunhai had been married for twenty-seven years. Now that Wangjiazhuang was suffering from a locust plague, she and her son had been constantly worried. Taking advantage of the holiday, they decided to come back together to check on things.

“There’ll still be locusts later… no rush to see them now,” Zhao Shunhai grumbled, but the grin on his face stretched all the way to his ears.

At 8:30, Zhao Shunhai squatted at the village entrance waiting for the bus. The village streets were bustling, with many people holding brooms and cleaning up.

Seeing so many people sweeping, Zhao Shunhai stopped one and asked, “Isn’t the aerial pesticide spraying happening today?”

The village committee had issued a notice yesterday: Wangjiazhuang was a heavily affected area, and aerial pesticide spraying would take place between 9 and 10 a.m. today.

“Yeah, they’re spraying. There might be a live broadcast this time, so we’ve got to make the place look clean,” the villager replied before continuing to sweep. Besides hoping to get on camera, everyone wanted to tidy up the village, shake off the bad luck, and pray for a good omen.

Zhao Shunhai checked the time and decided to help out with the Village Brigade.

At 8:20, a pale-colored bus rolled into the village. As soon as it stopped, Wu Xiuli got off carrying baby supplies, followed by her son and daughter-in-law carrying the baby and their luggage.

“Are all these withered leaves on the roadside because of the locusts?” Wu Xiuli asked the moment she saw Zhao Shunhai. She’d been in the city helping with postpartum care and had heard about the locust plague, but seeing the devastation firsthand still shocked her.

“Yeah, the big ones flew off already—these are the small ones,” Zhao Shunhai replied, not wanting to dwell on unpleasant topics. He turned his attention to his grandson. “This is Lele, huh? So cute!” The baby was just over a month old, his tiny face all scrunched up, looking exactly like Dafei did when he was born.

Zhao Shunhai gently tapped the baby’s nose with his finger.

The little guy giggled in delight.

Zhao Shunhai’s heart melted.

“Attention all villagers: the aerial spraying will begin shortly. Please take safety precautions and avoid contact with pesticides.”

“Attention all villagers…”

…

Just as the four of them were about to head home, the Village Brigade’s loudspeakers crackled to life.

“Everyone, wrap it up and head back!” the village cadre shouted at the top of his lungs.

Zhao Shunhai’s home was at the southern end of Wangjiazhuang, quite a distance from the village entrance. The family was gathering their bags when a tractor pulled up.

“Dafei’s back?” Zhao Daliang called out from the driver’s seat.

“Just got here,” Dafei replied. The two were relatives and exchanged a few pleasantries.

“I’ll give you a lift,” Zhao Daliang offered, seeing all their luggage. With a wave of his hand, he turned the tractor around.

The group didn’t refuse the offer.

Ten minutes later, just as they arrived home, the roar of engines filled the sky above the village.

The four of them leaned on the windowsill. Three blue planes flew overhead, each equipped with spraying gear on both sides. Behind Dafei’s plane, over a dozen spraying drones followed in formation. The planes activated their pesticide systems, releasing dozens of white streams across the sky like ribbons.

Click click!

Zhao Shunhai reflexively pulled out his phone to take pictures. He’d seen aerial spraying on TV before, but never imagined it could look this spectacular in real life!

Ten minutes later, the drones finished their sweep and flew off to other areas.

“Gone already?” Zhao Daliang stared after them.

“Yeah, they’re gone.”

Zhao Shunhai opened the Wangjiazhuang group chat.

“I saw those planes at the military parade! I think they’re A30s—so cool!”

“First time I’ve ever seen a plane in person.”

“My angle was off—anyone got a full video?”

…

Unread messages: 999. The villagers were all buzzing about the aerial spraying. Zhao Shunhai scrolled through the entire chat history—it was livelier than New Year’s.

After a while, someone asked, “Should we go check the fields?” According to the official data, the new pesticide should start working within half an hour.

“They’re already there!” A villager with the ID “Blue Sky” posted a video. Blue Sky, fifty-two years old, was wearing a straw hat and face mask, carrying a metal hoe as he climbed the hill.

“Uncle Chai’s already on it!”

“Are the locusts still there?”

“Take more photos of the locusts!”

…

A flurry of questions followed. Blue Sky didn’t waste time—he ducked straight into the nearest cornfield. The corn stalks there had been half-eaten, and the leaves were crawling with newly formed locusts. As the leaves rustled, the locusts dropped to the ground.

Blue Sky picked one up—it twitched once, then lay still. Dead as could be.

“All dead?”

The villagers were stunned at the sight.

Blue Sky ventured deeper into the cornfield. There had been a locust egg nest here. The young locusts had just hatched, but now they were piled on the ground in layers. By rough estimate, 85% were dead. The rest had survived only because they were shielded by leaves or soil.

“This stuff’s more effective than regular pesticide…” The villagers were dumbfounded. They’d been farming their whole lives, used all kinds of mainstream pesticides, and usually had to spray multiple times before seeing results. But now, just half an hour…

“I’m going out to take a look,” Zhao Shunhai couldn’t sit still any longer.

“So many green locusts.”

“All dead.”

“The pesticide doesn’t even smell that bad.”

…

Half an hour later, Zhao Shunhai arrived at the cornfield. A crowd had gathered on the hillside. The cornfield was a mess, chewed up and ragged, but the buzzing of locusts was gone. Only a few green ones were still hopping around weakly. Zhao Shunhai scooped them up with a shovel—dozens of them. It felt incredibly satisfying.

While Zhao Shunhai was shoveling up locusts, other regions were also in full swing with their own aerial spraying campaigns. Wangjiazhuang had mostly young locusts, but elsewhere, there were mutated adult ones. According to the data, Longxia had deployed 3,000 planes and 30,000 spraying drones, covering twelve provinces including Shan, Shanxi, and He.

…

“On August 28, Longxia completed the first nationwide round of spraying. The second round is scheduled to begin on the 30th.”

“Longxia’s aerial campaign proves highly effective—locust numbers in severely affected areas down by 87%.”

“Longxia Ministry of Agriculture: A third round of locust control will be implemented…”

…

For the next three days, the news was all about the locust spraying. After a week of nonstop efforts, the kill rate in the worst-hit areas rose from 87% to 92%. The remaining locusts were mostly deep underground, and farmers would need to handle those manually.

On September 1, Longxia released two major announcements:

1. The nationwide locust control campaign had been a complete success. Starting September 1, Longxia would begin selling Longfeng Pesticide across the country. The pesticide must be used in designated quantities and locations—no hoarding or profiteering allowed.

2. Longxia would implement a locust disaster relief policy. Affected farmers could present documentation to their local Agricultural Bureau to receive compensation.

…

“Finally, some peace!”

“My hometown had so many locusts, we could fill two big sacks just sweeping them up.”

…

In truth, the worst-hit areas had already been brought under control by the second day of spraying. But Longxia wasn’t aiming for “under control”—they wanted total eradication. Seeing the official announcements, netizens had just one reaction: overwhelming relief.

“Start harvesting the corn. Leave the stalks for now,” said Li Dongkai, giving instructions in Zhaojia Village, He Province. The locusts there had been wiped out, but now they faced two new problems: 1) the corn was ripe, and 2) the fields were littered with locust corpses, tangled with the stalks and hard to clean.

The village committee held a meeting and decided to harvest all the remaining corn. To prevent any leftover eggs from hatching, they would burn the remaining stalks and locusts on-site. Most of the corn had been half-eaten and, having been infested, could only be processed into animal feed. A field that once yielded 10,000 jin of corn now had only 800 jin left.

“Sigh.” Li Dongkai helped the villagers pick corn, feeling more disheartened with each ear. The cobs were big and full—if not for the locusts, this would’ve been a bumper year…

After finishing one field, he was about to move to the next when a villager shouted, “Village Chief!”

“What is it?” Li Dongkai looked up.

“Isn’t this tiger grass?” the villager asked, pointing to some weeds at the edge of the field.

Li Dongkai walked over.

Tiger Tail Grass, also known as Club Grass, looks a lot like chives and is a common weed found in farmland. Finding it in the fields is usually nothing out of the ordinary—but after last year’s torrential rains in Zhongnan, not even a patch of green survived in Zhaojia Village, let alone weeds like Tiger Tail Grass. This year, they’d planted wheat and corn, so… where did the Tiger Tail Grass come from?

“I’ve got some over here too.”

“Looks like Bermuda grass…”

…

At that moment, surprised voices echoed from other fields as well. Tiger Tail Grass, purslane, Bermuda grass… all of them were common weeds in farmland. Right now, they weren’t fully grown, but they were definitely starting to sprout.

Li Dongkai brought over an iron spade and dug up a patch of horsetail grass, roots and all. Beneath it, aside from the acidic soil, were some corn leaves and the corpses of locusts. Those leaves had fallen within the last two weeks. He stared at the corn leaves and the dead locusts, then looked at the horsetail grass again. A line of poetry flashed through his mind: “Wildfires can’t destroy it all; when spring winds blow, it grows again.”

Except this time, it wasn’t wildfires—it was acid rain that couldn’t destroy it all. And now, with the autumn wind, it was growing back.

…

“Congratulations, Host, on earning the Achievement Reward: ‘Grows Again with the Autumn Wind.’

Mission Reward: Mr. Amir’s Processing Workshop.”

Just as Li Dongkai stood there in a daze, the System Interface at Fengshan Farm updated.

Qin Yun was in the middle of studying the task [Participate in Twenty Types of Planting Activities] when he noticed the update and froze.

“What’s up?” Liu Wensheng noticed the change in Qin Yun’s expression.

Qin Yun tapped on Interface Sharing.

[Mr. Amir’s Processing Workshop]: This is Mr. Amir’s Processing Workshop, the most treasured creation of Mr. Amir himself. (Usable only within the farm.)

[Processing Workshop]—brief and to the point. Clearly, this was a building-type card.