Chapter 63
Ever since obtaining the positive buff [Business Route Bonus Effect], Xie Xingchen’s ways of earning system revenue were no longer limited to selling items related to the illustrated compendium or products from the food machines. Compared to before, his perspective had broadened and his thinking had become more expansive.
[Damascus Rose], [multi-purpose].
Seeing those two words together, certain things naturally popped into Xie Xingchen’s mind—like essential oils, rose hydrosol, and skincare products such as face cream, masks, hand cream, handmade soap, and so on.
It wasn’t that Xie Xingchen was especially into skincare. It was simply because modern apps made information easy to access—anyone who paid even a little attention to plants, flowers, or fun facts would have come across plenty of information about “Damascus roses.”
The Damascus rose, also known as the “Turkish rose,” belongs to the old garden rose varieties. It’s one of the world’s most famous raw materials for fragrance, with immense economic and horticultural value.
Since ancient times, Damascus roses have been widely used in perfumery. In modern times, after essential oil extraction became possible, Damascus rose oil—thanks to its exceptional quality and precious raw material—has been dubbed “liquid gold” by the industry.
Thinking of that “liquid gold,” Xie Xingchen suddenly felt tempted. What if… he made some too?
His gaze shifted to the bulging lucky bag full of seeds, and he grinned.
Looks like his Feifei really took after him—his rabbit buddy was truly loyal, bringing back an entire bag of Damascus rose seeds!
“Long-Life, let’s go plant roses!” Xie Xingchen grabbed Long-Life as the robot passed by, smiling brightly.
Long-Life, forcibly drafted into labor, fell silent. “…”
After a few seconds, he put on a practiced smile.
He already understood that his strange master was always acting on sudden impulses. Over time, Long-Life had learned to stay calm and even understood how he’d gone from a medical robot to a planting robot.
Just as the master said, he was merely “studying” right now!
And once he awakened in the future, everything he learned would let him support himself—and live like a rich tycoon.
After being brainwashed by Xie Xingchen day after day, the robots now firmly believed they would eventually awaken into true mechanical lifeforms. Sometimes, under Xie Xingchen’s encouraging gaze, they’d even daydream about their wonderful post-awakening lives!
Of course… daydreaming aside, reality was reality: the fate of the poor working class was still to work hard.
“Long-Life, let me tell you—we might really get rich this time!” Xie Xingchen chattered excitedly.
“Understood, Boss. Wishing you success, Boss,” Long-Life replied with a smile.
That line was incredibly familiar. Long-Life had no idea how many times he’d said it.
He said it every time, yet the boss was still poor.
Xie Xingchen, unaware of Long-Life’s rebellious thoughts, didn’t mind the robot’s clearly perfunctory smile. His heart was burning with excitement—he wanted liquid gold, and he wanted those Damascus roses blooming ASAP!
While Xie Xingchen was planting Damascus roses like his life depended on it—swearing to make more and better skincare products for his fans—the very fans he “had in mind” were falling hopelessly in love with milk tea.
Ever since Xie Xingchen added a milk tea tasting kiosk to Earth Commerce, the milk tea shop had been packed to the brim.
Whether people drank inside or took it to-go while shopping, customers of all ages, genders, and preferences were delighted.
“Xiao Lu! Over here, over here—we’re here!”
After ordering a milk tea at the tasting kiosk, Xiao Lu heard her classmates calling her name.
She looked over and saw a familiar group lounging in the far corner near the reading nook. They were casually flipping through magazines while slurping milk tea, relaxed to the extreme.
“Hello. Your milk tea is ready. Please pick it up.”
Just a few seconds later, the kiosk machine chimed.
Xiao Lu took her “Mango Shaved Ice” from the machine, grabbed a straw and spoon from the utensil rack, and trotted over to her classmates.
This milk tea shop was something Xiao Lu had discovered—and shamelessly dragged her classmates to try.
But after that first visit, the one who shamelessly insisted on coming again became… her classmates.
And as they kept coming back, Earth Commerce’s milk tea shop somehow became their base. Every day they’d come buy a cup. If there were seats, they’d drink inside; if not, they’d sit on a bench outside.
Holding a milk tea, surrounded by birdsong and flowers, breathing in the different fruit aromas drifting through the air—this moment was priceless.
“Why are you so late today?” her classmates asked casually.
It was vacation! Under normal logic, shouldn’t she be online even earlier?
Xiao Lu smiled, her eyes sparkling like starlight had fallen into them.
“Because I’m too excited—I got a Milk Tea Blind Box from Earth Commerce!” she said, unable to hide her excitement.
The moment she said it, the whole group froze.
The classmates who’d been sprawled out shot upright.
Their eyes widened in disbelief. “What? You got the Milk Tea Blind Box?!”
Their voices were a little too loud, and they attracted nearby customers’ attention.
Realizing she’d become a spectacle, Xiao Lu covered her face awkwardly and whispered, “Girls… lower your voices. I don’t want everyone staring.”
The group snapped back, apologized sheepishly, and two classmates swapped seats to block Xiao Lu from view.
Once the onlookers’ gazes drifted away, they grabbed Xiao Lu and demanded details.
Xiao Lu rubbed her nose, grinning. “Well… actually, I’m from Shepherd Star.”
Classmates: ?
Classmates: !
Th-that was so unfairly advantageous!
Basking in their envy, Xiao Lu felt both happy and a little complicated.
She’d never looked down on the planet that raised her, but she’d never imagined she’d one day feel proud of being born on a remote world.
Yet ever since Earth Commerce appeared—and especially after it created extra purchase links for remote planets—many remote worlds began developing in new ways. Xiao Lu kept feeling proud of her home planet because Shepherd Star had ridden that wave and blown up. Among many planets, its development was one of the best.
“Xiao Lu! Can we go travel to your place?!”
“Yes! Travel! I remember Shepherd Star is really pretty!”
“Right! We want to visit Shepherd Star too—plus if we can buy Earth Commerce goods there, even better!”
They all spoke at once and looked at Xiao Lu with pleading puppy eyes.
Xiao Lu didn’t make things difficult. She agreed immediately. “Sure! If you come, you can stay at my house.”
Their eyes turned to stars. “Really?!”
Xiao Lu nodded. “Yep. My place is big enough for all of you. And near my house there’s Thousand Birds Lake—there are so many unbelievably beautiful birds. You can pick rooms facing the lake. Just standing on the balcony, you can see tons of birds. And if you’re lucky at night, you might even see fireflies!”
Everyone: shocked.jpg
Everyone: “Your family is… rich?”
So the rich girl was among us?!
Xiao Lu nodded, then shook her head, smiling wryly. “Yes and no. By Shepherd Star standards, my family counts as well-off. But by wealthy developed-planet standards, we’d probably be… just ordinary.”
They understood instantly, but still felt complicated.
Some of the developed-planet middle-class kids even felt an urge to convince their parents to buy a home on a remote planet!
Xiao Lu added, “If you come, I can also take you to the newly built Culture Street. There are lots of fun little things there—you’ll probably love it!”
They nodded furiously. “Okay. It’s settled!”
The girls were completely hooked by the talk of shopping perks, Thousand Birds Lake, and Culture Street. They wanted to run to Shepherd Star immediately and experience it.
In a secluded corner separated by greenery, two gentle, refined middle-aged men listened to the students’ travel plans with smiles they couldn’t wipe off their faces.
They were native Shepherd Star residents—and currently leaders in Shepherd Star’s tourism department.
Ever since Earth Commerce introduced the special purchase link for remote planets, Shepherd Star seized the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and rose powerfully.
To outsiders, Culture Street was simply an interesting street. But to them, it was their life’s work.
Launching Culture Street had been incredibly difficult. If those two hadn’t argued for it relentlessly, it might have died before it was even born.
Now it existed, was recognized, successfully boosted local industries, and created countless jobs… all thanks to Earth Commerce.
So they’d developed a habit of coming to Earth Commerce just to stroll around whenever they had time.
This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, that they’d heard Shepherd Star residents proudly talk about their home planet.
But no matter how many times they heard it, they still felt satisfied and moved.
Just listening to children speak proudly of their mother planet let them glimpse Shepherd Star’s vitality and bright future.
Because Shepherd Star truly had immense growth potential now.
Tourism brought in many financially capable visitors. Those visitors lived and spent money there, stimulating related industries. Some visitors were so charmed they decided to buy property and settle down, increasing the permanent population and boosting real estate—which in turn drove more industry growth…
It was a beautiful, vibrant, exciting cycle.
And honestly, just in terms of promoting development, Earth Commerce had already earned a place on the “white list” of countless planets.
Remote planets that caught this wave early were generally those with stronger foundations. They couldn’t compare to developed planets, but among developing worlds, they were outstanding.
Such remote planets might look insignificant, but once enough of them rose together, they formed a force—and a market—that couldn’t be underestimated.
The Plant Association might still be trying to pin Xie Xingchen down and force him to bow his head. But with these planets now holding strong goodwill toward Earth Commerce, the Plant Association could no longer pose a real threat.
It was a classic case of “unintentionally planting a willow and watching it grow into shade.”
After the mugwort–mint balm and wild chrysanthemum tea launched, more and more parents began bringing children to Earth Commerce’s specialty street.
Now that milk tea—the divine artifact—had arrived, there were even more kids. So many that people couldn’t help marveling at how many incredible children the Star Alliance had.
Indeed—any child who could log into the holographic marketplace was an incredible child!
After all, accessing the holographic marketplace required using mental power. And these energetic little devils—running, jumping, eating, shouting—looked like they had plenty of it, like they wanted to rocket into the sky.
And because interstellar people admired strength, they were unusually tolerant of kids like this.
So tolerant that when Xie Xingchen finally logged into the holographic marketplace again, he was stunned by the number of kids sprinting and wandering all over the street.
If he didn’t know this was Earth Commerce’s specialty street, he might’ve thought he’d wandered into a children’s amusement park.
Why were there so many children here? Had all the kids in the holographic marketplace come to this one place?
If there were a “kid distribution map,” Xie Xingchen might have realized that the child concentration here was indeed off the charts.
Unfortunately, there was no such map—and even if there were, a private planet lord like him wouldn’t be allowed to see it.
So to this day, Xie Xingchen simply believed that interstellar people had lots of kids.
Maybe it was just an illusion created by the parents who camped under his Starblog.
Interstellar people: smile.gif
Watching the kids run wildly around chairs, lamps, and greenery, Xie Xingchen finally couldn’t take it anymore.
He returned to the marketplace decoration interface, spent money on a few cute mascot robots, and had them hand out balloons to children on the street.
Then he bought a slide, swings, a spinning mini-airplane ride, a sandbox, bubble balls, and other equipment. Finally—pinching pennies—he opened the last shop at the end of the street and turned it into a children’s play area.
He clicked save. Fog gathered and dispersed.
One minute later, shrill laughter erupted.
“Wow, balloons! The doggy is giving me a balloon!”
“There’s a swing! Yaoyao, let’s go play on the swing!”
“There’s a little airplane! Mom, I want to ride the airplane!”
Everyone was stunned at the sudden additions.
Before they could even process it, the children’s screams of joy intensified.
By the time people snapped out of it, the kids had gone completely wild.
Pretty street, tons of kids, lots of tasty treats, fun things to play—this was way more interesting than a normal children’s park!
The space wasn’t big, but the kids were thrilled.
And not only were the kids happy—the parents were happy too.
Before, taking kids to an amusement park meant parents could only accompany the kids and play with them—basically, just keep playing along with the children.
But now?
Kids played. Parents shopped.
Good food and drinks, gorgeous environment—what more could you want?
And with a place to “park” the kids, parents didn’t even need to watch them constantly. Kids couldn’t really get lost in the holographic mall. At worst, without supervision, they’d just burn more mental power.
But that was a small issue. Once they burned enough, the holographic device would forcibly log them out. Then they could lie down in a treatment pod—conveniently learning the lesson of moderation.
Ah—perfect!
Maybe the experience was just too good, because ever since Xie Xingchen built this tiny “kids’ park” at the end of the street, the number of children only kept increasing.
And parents here didn’t restrain them the way they would elsewhere.
The moment they arrived, parents went to buy food. The kids were free. As long as they didn’t go past the beautiful flower gate, and as long as they behaved like polite kids, they could do whatever they wanted.
This unintentional move made Earth Commerce’s specialty street a childhood memory for countless gifted kids. Ten or twenty years later, when they grew up, they would naturally feel a deep affection for Earth Commerce.
But that’s a story for later.
For now, seeing the children’s bright smiles, Xie Xingchen couldn’t help building them a mushroom house at the end of the street too.
This mushroom house was only for children. It also sold samples at a tasting kiosk, but portions were half-sized and the price was half-sized too—perfect for kids to try things while easing parents’ burden.
He even added mini-game booths: goldfish scooping, ring toss, shooting games, and more.
Parents could use Earth Commerce shopping points to exchange for game tries—10 points per try. If kids won, they could get little masks, dolls, clothes, and other items. It saved parents money.
After all, it was “free” points in exchange for games—kids were happy, parents were happy.
Even if the prizes could only be used within the holographic marketplace, the overall shopping enjoyment clearly went up.
As for adults not being allowed to play?
Heh. Once shopping points could be exchanged for goods later, adults could just save them.
He’d planned to come up and relax a bit, but in the end he ended up doing even more work.
Still—watching all those kids laughing was oddly healing.
Sitting quietly on a long bench, Xie Xingchen squinted at the blue sky and let out a soft breath.
There were always lots of visitors on Earth Commerce’s specialty street. Leaning back and watching people come and go was strangely stress-relieving.
And the Star Alliance had plenty of weirdos—lots of people covered themselves up as completely as Xie Xingchen did. So his “suspicious” look blended perfectly into the surroundings.
After another hour, seeing young people gathering near the mushroom house to watch kids play games, Xie Xingchen smiled helplessly and logged off.
The Damascus rose seeds had already been planted.
Because there were so many seeds this time, Xie Xingchen didn’t use mental power to force-grow them.
And to test the effect of the [Mysterious Planting Potion], he even added a drop into the plant growth solution while soaking the seeds.
Just one drop—yet in less than ten minutes, the seeds began sprouting.
So what he planted in the flower field weren’t seeds anymore—they were tender sprouts.
Faced with that, Xie Xingchen could only marvel: no wonder the [Mysterious Planting Potion] was certified “mysterious” by the System.
But when he thought that boosting germination was all that one drop could do, reality told him—
You’re way too naive!
The Damascus roses he planted grew wildly lush even without any mental power input—so lush they made the peonies next door look malnourished. Xie Xingchen had to increase the care he gave the peonies.
But as he kept feeding the peonies mental power, he realized something—
It wasn’t that the peonies were malnourished. It was that the Damascus roses were over-nourished.
Once he figured that out, he got annoyed, went to the StarNet marketplace to “relax,” and somehow ended up doing unpaid labor instead.
Back at the flower field, he took out the [Mysterious Planting Potion] again. After some thought, he mixed a single drop into plant nutrient solution and watered the peonies.
The moment he finished watering, the peony stalks visibly shot up by ten centimeters.
Staring, Xie Xingchen couldn’t help asking, “Xiao Mo, how much of this potion do I even have?”
The pot looked big. If it actually held that much, it would be amazing.
[System: 10 ml total—300 drops.]
Xie Xingchen was shocked. “What? Only 10 ml?!”
That’s it?
[System: Yes.]
Xie Xingchen frowned. “Can Feifei bring me more potion in the future?”
[System: Anything is possible.]
He didn’t give up. “Will the system shop sell it later?”
[System: Anything is possible.]
Xie Xingchen tried to hold it in, but couldn’t. “Xiao Mo, can you stop replying like you’re squeezing toothpaste? Can you be more specific?”
[System prompt: Please explore on your own.]
There it was again.
Xie Xingchen had grown used to this response.
But now that he knew the potion was only 300 drops, he didn’t dare waste it on experiments anymore.
Good stuff should be saved for when it really mattered.
Fortunately, Damascus roses turned out to be surprisingly easy to grow.
He didn’t know whether it was because the seeds had been soaked in the potion, or because the roses themselves were just hardy.
Either way, they were growing at an abnormal pace. By the time the roses bloomed, the peonies next door were still only buds.
Since the Damascus rose blooming period was short—only a few weeks—Xie Xingchen immediately bought two distillers from the StarNet marketplace, one large and one small, the moment the roses opened.
Once the distillers arrived, he rushed to pick all the roses in full bloom.
Normally, half a mu of land could yield about 100 kg of fresh flowers. But Xie Xingchen’s plot produced a lot—half a mu yielded a full 150 kg of flowers.
Even so, the situation wasn’t exactly optimistic. The essential oil yield rate of Damascus roses was around 0.036%.
After doing the math, Xie Xingchen gave a bitter smile.
No wonder Damascus rose essential oil was called “liquid gold.”
At that yield, how could it not be liquid gold?
Realizing his half-mu rose field would probably only produce a tiny amount of rose oil, Xie Xingchen sighed—and then decided not to obsess over it.
He washed the flowers and set them aside, then cleaned, sterilized, and disinfected the distillers.
He chose distillation because he wanted not only the essential oil but also the hydrosol.
Hydrosol—often called “water essential oil”—can only be obtained through distillation.
He loaded the cleaned petals into the distiller.
After waiting a long time, he finally saw droplets of liquid trickling down the (transparent, visible) condenser tube into the oil-water separator, where the essential oil and hydrosol would separate.
From 150 kg of flowers, he obtained 15,000 ml of hydrosol and barely 25 g of rose essential oil.
It didn’t look like much, but in fact it was a solid yield.
Especially the essential oil—it was far more than Xie Xingchen had expected. Because at a strict 0.036% yield, 150 kg should have produced only a few dozen drops of rose oil.
Getting 25 g meant the System’s Damascus roses had an outrageously high oil content.
And concentrated essential oil needed to be diluted with a carrier oil before use. Typically, one drop of concentrated rose oil required about 10 ml of carrier oil. Common carriers included olive oil and coconut oil.
And wouldn’t you know it—Xie Xingchen just happened to have a whole bunch of coconut oil.
So those 25 g of concentrated Damascus rose oil could be diluted into a lot of usable rose oil.
As for hydrosol, while it’s often used as-is and usually doesn’t need dilution unless it’s extremely concentrated, Xie Xingchen thought it over and ultimately decided to dilute it too. After all, System-made products were high quality—dilution wouldn’t ruin the effect. Lower price and higher quantity while maintaining effectiveness was a win-win.
In the end, Xie Xingchen obtained 5,000 ml of essential oil and 30,000 ml of hydrosol.
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