Chapter 96

“It’s freezing.”

As the researchers lamented the unpredictable weather, Zhou Hai stepped into the observation station in the shrublands of Changluo Township, Liao River, carrying a red plastic bag. Zhou Hai was a forest ranger in Changluo Township and had been helping with seeding work ever since the township’s shrubland project began.

The Changluo project covered a hundred thousand mu, with over a dozen shrub species including Spiraea, Caragana, and Amorpha fruticosa. Due to the vast area, the project was divided into three phases. The first phase had just been completed, and the rest would resume next spring.

The observation station was located on the southern edge of the shrub base and had just been built last month as part of the shrubland living quarters. The site was led by Old Han, who, along with four staff members, managed the daily operations. When Zhou Hai entered, Old Han was writing a monitoring report, while the others were out on their routine patrol.

“How’s it been these past couple of days?” Zhou Hai placed the bag on a side table.

“Growth looks good. Survival rate’s over 95%,” Old Han replied, turning around. When he saw what Zhou Hai had brought, he paused. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

Zhou Hai had brought a pound of beef and two pounds of pork knuckle, all visible through the clear plastic bag. The cold weather outside had caused the fat to congeal.

“I saw a vendor selling it on the way here,” Zhou Hai said, putting the food into a microwave-safe dish. “Meat prices have dropped—this whole lot cost just 170 yuan.” Beef was now 65 yuan per pound, pork 35. While still not back to pre-crisis prices, it was definitely more affordable.

He got everything ready, planning to heat it up once the others returned.

…

“It’s freezing.”

“The acidic soil in the south is already frozen. We’ll need to wear insulated boots tomorrow.”

As they chatted, the gates of the observation station swung open. The rest of the crew drove in on a tractor. With the first phase of the project completed, they had just finished a routine patrol of the base.

“Zhou-ge’s here?” they called out as they got off the tractor, greeting him warmly. Zhou Hai, at forty-seven, was steady, mature, and emotionally intelligent. Everyone had gotten along well with him over the past few weeks.

“Just got here. Brought some pork knuckle.”

After a bit of small talk, Zhou Hai went inside to heat up the beef and pork.

Half an hour later, everyone huddled together, their breath visible in the frigid air. The observation station served as the living and support hub for the base. Each room had a heated brick bed and a small electric heater, but this year’s cold was so intense that the rooms barely held any warmth.

They ate heartily for a while until one of the staff looked over at Zhou Hai. “You heading back tomorrow?”

Just yesterday afternoon, Longbei had issued an orange-level weather alert. From December 5th to the 25th, the region was expected to experience heavy snowfall, worse than last year’s.

“Yeah,” Zhou Hai replied, chewing on a slice of pork knuckle. He’d received a notice from the Forestry Bureau the night before. To avoid a repeat of last year’s mountain lockdown due to the snow, all field personnel were required to evacuate to safe zones.

“You guys heading back too?” he asked.

“Yeah,” one of them replied. They’d gotten the notice that morning—everyone at the observation station had to evacuate before the 3rd.

“Feels like we just got through the last one, and now it’s coming again,” Old Han sighed, recalling last year’s snow disaster. It had hit without warning and turned out to be the worst in a decade. Roads were blocked, supplies ran short, and vegetation was decimated overnight. The memories were still vivid. Hard to believe a whole year had passed.

“Two years now,” another staff member muttered, sipping hot tea. Back in February last year, Mali had experienced the Harma Rainfall. Everyone thought it was just a regular storm, but it spread like a hurricane across the globe.

Once the lunar new year passed, it would mark the third year since Harma’s appearance.

“I just hope these seedlings can survive it,” Old Han said, gazing out the window. The shrubs had been planted last month. Before planting, the Forestry Bureau had conducted freeze-resistance tests. According to the results, the seeds could survive in temperatures as low as minus thirty degrees Celsius. But lab tests were one thing—real-world conditions were another. They worried that one heavy snowfall could wipe out all the tender shoots overnight.

Zhou Hai let out a long sigh. Before planting, Longbei had debated whether to even go ahead with the shrub project. But with forest coverage shrinking and desertification increasing fivefold compared to last year, they had no choice. If they didn’t plant this year, who knew what next year would bring?

“Eat meat, get some sleep!” one of the workers slapped the table. Whatever next year held, their job this year was to fight through the snow disaster—and have a proper New Year.

…

“Press this down—don’t let any wind in!”

While Zhou Hai and the others worried about the seedlings, Zhao Huiru was struggling to secure her greenhouse in Shuileyuan Village, Changting Town, Heihe.

Zhao Huiru was a local villager with ten mu of sorghum fields. Last year’s blizzard in Longbei had wiped out her entire crop overnight. After discussing with her family, she decided to switch from sorghum to romaine lettuce. Then, when tomato seeds were released this year, she converted all ten mu to tomatoes.

Her greenhouse, officially named Lele Vegetables, had cost her 200,000 yuan to set up. Just when she thought she’d finally start turning a profit, Longbei issued a red-level snow disaster warning on the afternoon of the 1st.

Having lived through last year’s storm, Zhao Huiru knew exactly what a red alert meant. The moment she saw the news, she rushed into the city to buy steel frames and other reinforcement materials for her greenhouse. Her goal was simple: no matter what, the greenhouse must not collapse.