Chapter 8: First Meeting on the Forum

Having spent all day catching rabbits, Ruan Ming hadn’t gotten around to digging up soil. She decided to go again the next morning.

In the week or so since arriving at the territory, she had visited the agriculture forum several times, mainly to look up information on cactus care, precautions against Acid Rain and Plague Rain on the territory, and solutions for soil contamination and radiation.

Whether the soil on the mountain would actually be suitable for farming was still unknown. Even if it was, how much use was that small amount of soil? What Ruan Ming truly longed for were vast expanses of fertile land.

The Research Institute had developed Purification Grass four years ago. After all this time, surely some portion of the land had been successfully purified. Maybe there were even more advanced soil improvement techniques and supporting measures by now. If so, the forum should have corresponding reports.

She took off her wristband and logged onto Base One’s official Agriculture Forum.

The wristband was small; browsing directly on its screen was harsh on the eyes. Thankfully, it had a projection function. The major drawbacks were that data usage fees were exorbitant, and activating the projection function drastically increased power consumption.

For ordinary people, data fees were a significant issue. Most of the satellites and advanced communication equipment launched during the Old Era were severely damaged in the Great Cataclysm. The new base stations set up by the various bases could, to some extent, guarantee real-time communication. However, accessing the network—browsing web pages, uploading or downloading images and videos—cost an astonishing amount in data fees.

Ruan Ming couldn’t bear to waste Credits, and she had to work during the day. So she’d planned only to spend from 8 PM to 9 PM each evening going online to check for information. The rest of the time, she would disable data, keeping only the basic real-time communication function active.

The Agricultural Forum also offered an online consultation feature, but an advisor wasn’t always available, especially after 6 PM. Over the past couple of days, she had finally managed to catch a staff member who was online late at night to answer her questions. Although that staff member’s attitude was cold, the answers were highly practical and very helpful. It was the same person for several days in a row.

Tonight, after logging in, she first searched and browsed relevant content. Only when that staff member’s avatar lit up did she open the real-time chat window.

“Good evening.”

The other party replied: “Ask your questions. If you don’t have any, don’t waste the consultation slot.”

As impatient as always. Ruan Ming didn’t dare waste words and cut straight to the chase:

“If uncontaminated soil exists outside the Safe Zone, can it be collected and brought back to grow crops?”

The reply came: “In principle, yes. However, uncontaminated soil’s ability to be preserved, or even to regenerate, depends on the surrounding environment, and even the soil itself. Reckless large-scale excavation could cause devastating damage to the source of that soil.”

Seeing this sentence, Ruan Ming was instantly alarmed. I probably shouldn’t dig up the soil from the bamboo grove.

She then asked: “I’ve heard that swamp soil has very high organic content. Can it be used to grow crops?”

The typing indicator on the other end vanished for a moment before a long paragraph finally came through.

“The organic matter content of swamp soil can reach 10% to 25%. It possesses a certain level of fertility and water retention capacity, making it suitable for moisture-loving crops. However, in practical application, swamp soil requires proper amendment to prevent compaction and allow it to suit a wider range of crop cultivation needs.”

The person then added: “Furthermore, most current swamp soil has already been contaminated by radiation and pollution.”

Ruan Ming replied: “Understood. Thank you for the explanation.”

The other party quickly sent another message: “Are you a Territory Lord from New Land?”

“Yes.”

“Territory 32?”

Ruan Ming was taken aback, but calmly responded: “How would you guess that?”

“Generally, only Territory Lords log onto the Agricultural Forum for consultations. Within the territory area outside Base One’s Safe Zone, only Territory 32 borders the swamp.”

Ruan Ming retorted: “Not only people from Territory 32 know about Lethe Marsh. Your conclusion seems rather absolute.”

The other party replied: “You don’t need to be so guarded against me. I’m a staff member from Institute Lab 1. When the New Land territories were first demarcated, I was ordered to travel there for soil and water testing, so I’m relatively familiar with that area. Two days ago, I received a report that due to continuous heavy rain, the concentration of Dark Uranium Element surged, causing the mutated crocodiles in Lethe Marsh to become frenzied. They attacked Territories 31, 32, and 33. Not a single person in those three territories survived. If you weren’t near Territory 32, you wouldn’t have such strong interest in that swamp. Of course, it’s just a guess on my part.”

Having her background completely exposed just for asking a single question made Ruan Ming very uneasy. Seeing her lengthy silence, the other party soon sent another message:

“I didn’t mean to offend you. As a researcher of this base, not understanding the situation within my own jurisdiction would be a dereliction of duty. If you feel I shouldn’t have guessed your identity, I will forget what I just said.”

At this point, with the other person’s rare sincerity, Ruan Ming felt maybe she was being overly sensitive. Besides, what did it matter if they knew she was from Territory 32? If someone truly intended her harm, a little investigation would easily uncover her anyway. Setting aside her unnecessary worries, she replied:

“It’s fine. I was just a bit surprised.”

It was essentially an admission that she was indeed the new Lord of Territory 32. The person on the other end didn’t continue on that topic and instead returned to the original question:

“Regarding the swamp soil, if you’re truly interested, I can arrange for someone to take samples from the marsh and research methods to eliminate the contamination and radiation.”

Ruan Ming hurriedly typed: “It was just a passing question. Your Research Institute’s work is already busy enough. There’s no need to add extra work just because of a casual question from me.”

The reply came: “It’s not unnecessary work. Lab 1 has been dedicated to crop cultivation research all these years. If swamp soil can be of help in this area, it could represent a new research direction.”

Given this reasoning, Ruan Ming couldn’t very well refuse. She replied with an “Mm,” then added, “Time’s up. I have to log off now.”

The other party quickly responded: “What time’s up?”

Ruan Ming explained, a little sheepishly: “Internet access fees in New Land are terribly expensive. I only allow myself one hour online each day. My time is up now.”

The reply came quickly: “Then see you tomorrow. I’ll be online promptly at eight tomorrow to answer questions; won’t be as late as today.”

Ruan Ming couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Hadn’t the person answering questions the day before yesterday and yesterday been a cold, emotionless answering machine? Why did they seem like a different person today?

She couldn’t very well ask that directly. So, without dwelling on it further, she sent a thankful emoji and promptly exited the forum, turning off her data.

On the other end of the computer, Ye Fengwan looked at the grayed-out avatar on the screen and narrowed her eyes.

So it really is her. Talk about finding something easily after a long, fruitless search.

The sound of wheelchair wheels rolling came from behind her; Ye Jianggui had entered the room at some point. Ye Fengwan turned to look at her.

“Haven’t logged off yet?” Ye Jianggui asked. “Is everything taken care of?”

If she hadn’t run into that person tonight, Ye Fengwan would have been eager to dump the forum duties immediately. But now, she’d changed her mind.

“Not yet,” she replied.

Ye Jianggui did everything meticulously. If she were managing the forum herself, she would also patiently answer every user’s question. Knowing it required time, she wasn’t suspicious and simply nodded. “Take your time.”

In the end, it was all just an excuse to keep her little sister tied up and prevent her from going outside.

As the two sisters were talking, Ye Jianggui’s assistant, Ding Ruonan, walked in. “Teacher Ye, Dean Qu is here.”

The “Dean Qu” Ding Ruonan referred to was Qu Ning, the eldest son of Base Chief Qu Wanshan. He was the same age as Ye Jianggui and oversaw all affairs of the entire Research Institute. Both Ye Jianggui and Fang Changqing, the Director of Lab 2, were his subordinates.

Ye Fengwan glanced at Ye Jianggui, then turned her back, continuing to work on the computer. Soon, footsteps approached. A tall, lean man appeared at the doorway. He wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and possessed a refined, scholarly air.

“Jianggui,” he greeted the woman in the wheelchair with a smile.

But who would have guessed that the Base Chief’s eldest son, despite his outstanding abilities, had no Esper Ability and was just an ordinary person?

Ye Jianggui’s expression remained faint, as it did for almost everyone. Even though this man was once her fiancé.

Her heart had never been set on fleeting things like love. All these years, she had poured herself entirely into wasteland agricultural development research. The engagement was arranged by their parents. After her parents passed away, she directly approached Base Chief Qu Wanshan and requested to annul the engagement.

By that time, she could hardly stand, her legs useless, and because of her physical condition, she would likely never bear children. Qu Wanshan agreed. Qu Ning was his eldest son; he would never permit a woman incapable of bearing heirs to enter the Qu Family’s door.

Perhaps out of guilt, and further motivated by Ye Jianggui’s Brain Evolution Ability and her research achievements, he granted her request and promised her everything she asked for, including no longer holding Ye Fengwan accountable for the related affairs at Lab 2.

By the time Qu Ning learned of all this, it was already too late. He refused to let go, but couldn’t defy his father. For all these years, this distance had been maintained between them, neither too close nor too far.

Unlike his domineering father, Qu Wanshan, or his violent younger brother, Qu Wu, Qu Ning was gentle and mild-mannered. If it were merely a normal colleague or superior-subordinate relationship, Ye Jianggui wouldn’t mind having such a capable and well-connected partner. But anything beyond that… she couldn’t give. And things she didn’t need were, to her, nothing more than a burden.

Without even lifting her eyes, Ye Jianggui said flatly, “Dean Qu, let’s go next door to see the latest research results on the mutated ducks.”

With that, adopting her purely businesslike manner, she wheeled herself out. Qu Ning simply smiled, ignoring her coldness, and stepped forward to push her wheelchair toward the neighboring lab.

Seeing the two leave, Ding Ruonan said to Ye Fengwan, “Sister Wan, Second Young Master Qu was outside. I just told him you’d been punished by your teacher with extra lab work and couldn’t leave before ten tonight. He turned around and slunk away.”

Ye Fengwan let out a cold snort. No matter how arrogant Qu Wu was, the moment he heard Ye Jianggui’s name, he wouldn’t dare provoke them. If anything happened to Ye Jianggui because of him, his father Qu Wanshan would toss him into Lethe Marsh to feed the crocodiles the very next day.

Everyone in Base One coveted Ye Fengwan’s beauty. Yet no one dared to mess with her. Because her sister was Ye Jianggui.

Without Ye Jianggui, the nearly one million people inside the Safe Zone would have starved to death eight years ago. The appearance of the Edible Fairy Peach saved the survivors of several bases. Coupled with the improvement of Purification Grass, it gave the wasteland’s soil a chance at recovery. Ye Jianggui was a treasure, the hope of the future.

Qu Wu’s designs on Ye Fengwan weren’t new, but ultimately, he had the desire but not the courage.

After Ding Ruonan left, Ye Fengwan opened her wristband and navigated to the top-up interface. Her slender fingers glided across the screen, and a familiar string of digits quickly appeared in the top-up field. Her finger tapped lightly, landing on the number “1000,” then she pressed “Confirm.”

At that very moment, outside the main gate of the Research Institute, Qu Wu’s face was dark with displeasure. His lackey, Huo Yi, observing his master’s expression, said cautiously, “Second Young Master, you’re the son of the Base Chief, after all. There’s nowhere in the whole Safe Zone you can’t go. Yet it’s the Eldest Young Master who forbids you from entering Lab 1. He’s clearly biased against you!”

Qu Wu spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground and said through gritted teeth, “Who told the old man to value him so much?!”

Huo Yi, craning his neck obsequiously, added, “The Old Era is over. People without Esper Abilities will eventually be weeded out, left to live like trash in the end—”

“Shut your mouth! How dare you call the Eldest Young Master of Base One trash? Who gave you the nerve!”

Huo Yi, having followed him for ages, knew exactly what Qu Wu was thinking deep down. Still, he maintained an indignant front: “I’m just stating the facts. Second Young Master, you are loyal and righteous. Even if you defend your elder brother, it can’t change the present reality.”

Seeing him still arguing, Qu Wu reached out and rapped him sharply on the forehead. The two got into their vehicle, and soon it was speeding away.

Meanwhile, on the other end, after logging off, Ruan Ming didn’t fall asleep right away. She lay in bed, her thoughts wandering aimlessly.

Suddenly, a notification chime sounded from her wristband. Opening it, she discovered that a thousand Credits of communication top-up had just been deposited into her account.

She bolted upright in bed. Her first reaction was whether someone had entered the wrong number. Her father was gone, her grandma was no longer around. Her uncle would never top up her communication Credits. Then who could it be?

Ruan Ming felt deeply unsettled, but there was no way to trace it. Her previous drowsiness vanished completely in an instant.

Just then, a faint rustling sound reached her ears. She went on high alert instantly, and the machete next to her bed was in her hand in the blink of an eye.

Listening closely, accompanied by squeaking sounds… it turned out to be rats. Her heart, which had leaped into her throat, finally settled back down.

But she quickly scrambled up again just as fast—the chayote she’d planted in the small vegetable patch had already sprouted! If rats got to it, all her effort would be for nothing. Compared to rabbits, rats were equally destructive, if not more so.