Chapter 78
The authorities stepped in to snatch up the milk powder, and after securing it, dispatched staff to distribute it to the Insectoid children harmed in the Tongxin Group “black-hearted cotton” incident.
After bowing and scraping as they delivered the sheep milk powder, the staff from the Insect Larvae Protection Association frowned so hard they could’ve crushed a fly.
“Have the people upstairs gone crazy? Does this ‘sheep milk powder’ stuff really fix damaged aptitude?”
“No idea, but… who knows?”
“Sigh. If it truly could repair damaged aptitude in young ones, that would be incredible.”
“Don’t even think about it. It’s hard. Instead of daydreaming, you’d be better off praying for a breakthrough in medical tech.”
“Come on—there are still several households to visit. Let’s finish our actual job first.”
“…”
As the association workers gradually walked away, the victim’s family stared silently at the can of sheep milk powder in front of them.
Because their child had been hurt, the once-lively atmosphere at home had turned heavy. At this moment, even the naughtiest little male child didn’t dare speak loudly.
And the little female child, held in the arms of the family’s primary female spouse, stared blankly at her female parent—forgetting even to keep sucking on her fingers.
This was a normal, and yet not-so-normal, Insectoid household.
Normal, because it was still a “one spouse, many consorts” structure. Not normal, because the household centered on the primary female spouse—so much so that even the male child had very little say.
“Sir… should we try it?” Horace, the highest-ranking of the female consorts, spoke up.
He glanced at little Ian, who sat cluelessly in his female parent’s arms, still not understanding what had happened. Horace’s heart ached.
Benji lowered his eyes. The coldness on his handsome face was like ice and snow—impossible to melt.
In a military uniform, he looked especially unapproachable, but when he spoke, his voice was low and magnetic.
“Horace, go mix a bottle of sheep milk,” Benji said.
Horace sprang to his feet at once.
He brought the baby bottle over.
Setting it down, he carefully opened the milk powder can.
As he moved, a rich milky aroma rose into the air.
The moment they smelled it, everyone present froze for no clear reason.
But the two children who were still in the milk-drinking stage lit up instantly.
The male child, the older brother, knew this was the younger sibling’s milk powder. He swallowed hard and started sucking on his fingers—no matter how tempted, he didn’t ask for any.
The little female child stared at Horace with shining eyes.
Horace carefully scooped four spoonfuls of powder, added warm water, and shook the bottle.
After mixing it evenly, he handed it to Ian, who was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Ian grabbed the bottle, turned, and gave his older brother a sip first—then gulped down the rest with greedy, happy chugging.
“Ah!” Ian let out a soft, milky sigh.
There was about one-fifth of the bottle left. Reluctantly, little Ian offered it back to his older brother.
“Bubba… here,” Ian said.
Dolan smiled, and his delicate features brightened instantly.
Seeing that none of the adults objected, he happily took the bottle from his little brother and copied Ian’s “chug-chug-chug” style.
Honestly, this sheep milk powder was ridiculous. Neither Ian nor Dolan had liked drinking milk before, but after this, the two of them developed a daily “must have milk” habit.
“Colonel, the milk powder they sent really works!” Horace said excitedly.
Little Ian’s aptitude had been badly damaged—but after just one can of sheep milk powder, a new test showed a noticeable improvement!
And not only Ian: even Dolan, who had always been frail and sickly, became much healthier after drinking it along with Ian.
With such obvious changes in the children, everyone felt thrilled and excited… and also scared.
Thrilled because Ian might be saved. Excited because Dolan’s body could become healthy too. But terrified that the authorities might stop supplying the sheep milk powder.
Over the past few days, they had dug up a huge amount of information about Earth Trading Company, and they now understood exactly what those four words meant.
Which created a very real problem: if the authorities didn’t intervene, there was no guarantee they could successfully buy sheep milk powder every month.
Benji closed his eyes and said nothing.
The room fell so silent they could hear each other breathing.
After a long while, Benji opened his eyes and said in a low voice, “Contact the other victim families.”
Horace snapped a salute, excitement flashing across his face. “Yes, Colonel!”
“Director Doria, did you say that if I provide priority purchasing rights for 26 bottles of sheep milk powder each month, I can get comprehensive Star Alliance audit acceleration?” Xie Xingchen repeated in disbelief.
This kind of deal existed?
All he had to do was provide 26 cans per month—and not even for free, just priority purchasing rights—and they’d grant him comprehensive Star Alliance fast-track privileges?
The kind of fast-track that covered everything from major reviews like administration, military merit, patents, and product approvals… all the way down to minor things like forum posts, livestream comments, and bullet-screen moderation?
Surely they were messing with him.
It sounded too unbelievable.
Doria replied, “Yes, Mr. Xie, you heard correctly. The Star Alliance is willing to exchange priority review rights for priority purchasing rights… You likely already know about the shocking ‘black-hearted cotton incident’ some time ago. In that incident, more than a dozen Insectoid young ones suffered aptitude damage. We have now found that your sheep milk powder helps repair their damaged aptitude to some extent. Given that Earth Trading Company products are extremely hard to obtain, this is why we’re making this proposal.”
Yes—a proposal, not a coercion.
The Star Alliance never infringed on citizens’ legitimate rights.
So they didn’t do forced extortion tactics.
Was Xie Xingchen tempted?
Xie Xingchen: Thanks for asking—he moved like a hurricane.
Xie Xingchen smiled. “Of course. It would be my honor. I’m willing to contribute my part and support interstellar peace and development.”
No amount of lofty phrasing could hide how fast he folded.
Hahahaha, this was an insane profit.
Before Doria could even speak again, Xie Xingchen, feeling like he’d hit the jackpot, thoughtfully added, “Director Doria, I think 26 cans is a bit awkward. How about we standardize it to 30 cans from now on?”
Seeing how “reasonable” he was, Doria was extremely satisfied.
Since the deal was done—and the supplier was generous—Doria also wanted to leave him with an even better impression.
So she immediately submitted the request to the relevant departments.
Less than a minute later, Xie Xingchen’s personal light-brain received an official notification email.
Xie Xingchen: starry-eyes.
With Doria moving so quickly, Xie Xingchen became equally generous.
After handing over 30 cans, he also gave Doria one extra can as a gift.
At that moment, both sides were clearly delighted.
Trading something you don’t need for something you do need—nobody lost.
And for Xie Xingchen, priority review rights were unbelievably valuable.
The very next day, the wool products that had been stuck in the review queue forever were approved.
Once the approval came through, Xie Xingchen suddenly remembered Doria had visited him two days earlier, so before listing the products, he thoughtfully pinged her.
[Xie Xingchen: Director Doria, I’ll be listing some wool products tomorrow. Do you need me to reserve some for the Insectoid young ones?]
If you’re going to help, help all the way. Since there was already a connection, he might as well tighten it further.
Ahem—of course, this absolutely did not mean Xie Xingchen thought the Insectoids were powerful and wanted to cling to them. And it absolutely did not mean he knew the Insectoid Civilization was very strict about favors and grudges, so he wanted to seize this chance to build presence—ideally becoming a benefactor in their eyes.
[Doria: Thank you, Boss Xie. I’ll ask. If we need anything, I’ll contact you.]
[Xie Xingchen: No problem. I’m just warm-hearted, that’s all. Take your time. These items aren’t few, but I can provide up to 200 pieces at most.]
He shamelessly slapped a “warm-hearted” label on himself, then immediately set expectations: 200 pieces max.
He was warm-hearted, not a sucker.
There were only a little over a dozen affected Insectoid young ones. Two hundred items was already extremely generous and left plenty of wiggle room.
More than that? He’d rather scalp them himself.
Yes—Xie Xingchen judged others by his own standards. Given Earth Trading Company’s popularity, he assumed that if he were Doria, he’d definitely “reserve” the remaining quantity for himself and resell it.
He considered that an alternate kind of benefit.
What he didn’t realize was that Doria had zero intention of scalping. Between her household and her sister’s, they had two young ones—any extras would be used up internally long before anyone thought of selling.
But Doria still miscalculated.
The Insectoid contact on her side, after hearing that Xie Xingchen would provide purchase rights for 200 items, directly asked for Xie Xingchen’s contact info and took over all communication—snatching the job right out of Doria’s hands.
Doria: Are you serious?!
And the worst part? Nobody cared that she was angry. She still had to remind Xie Xingchen to accept the other party’s friend request.
She was furious.
Xie Xingchen sifted through a pile of friend requests and found the Insectoid account with a pitch-black avatar.
After accepting, the other side said “Hello.”
They exchanged two stiff lines of small talk and instantly ran out of things to say.
Then Xie Xingchen rescued the conversation.
[Xie Xingchen: Here’s the item list. You can place orders based on this.]
He pulled the list directly from the approval backend—complete with the official red approval stamp.
[ZZZ: Okay, thank you. I’ll draft the order list now. Talk later.]
Very on-brand: more rigid than mechanical lifeforms.
Well… not exactly. Mechanical lifeforms weren’t rigid—they were just a bit dense. Insectoids were the rigid ones.
Xie Xingchen figured the Insectoid probably didn’t want him to keep replying, so he stopped.
While the other side discussed their shopping list, Xie Xingchen turned to editing the listing links and product descriptions.
He had only opened three links when the order list arrived.
[ZZZ: Boss Xie, we need 50 children’s cashmere tops, 50 children’s fuzzy pants, 30 plush toys, 20 pairs of gloves, 20 scarves. Use other items to make up the remaining 30 pieces. Is that okay?]
Xie Xingchen glanced at it and replied casually.
[Xie Xingchen: Of course. What about colors? Any preferences?]
This time the reply was slow. After a long while, the other side finally responded with one word: “Anything.”
[Xie Xingchen: Got it. Sometimes surprises are nice. I’ll ship randomly. Don’t worry—this batch of wool goods is top quality. Any color will look great. They’re all gorgeous.]
Xie Xingchen’s enthusiasm actually did get rewarded.
Half an hour later—just as he assumed the other party had silently ended the conversation—the Insectoid sent:
[ZZZ: Thank you for your help. I have applied an Insectoid-Friendly Certificate for you. You are welcome to visit the Insectoid Civilization when you have time. Goodbye.]
An Insectoid-Friendly Certificate?
Xie Xingchen: Holy crap!
This was a massive win.
From now on—whether he traveled there or even opened a shop there—he wouldn’t be rejected by the Insectoids.
Still in the middle of opening listing links, Xie Xingchen immediately scampered off to pack the wool goods the Insectoids wanted.
Not only did he provide full quantities, he also tossed in a few extra small gifts.
And while picking items, he generously threw in more than a dozen rainbow-colored wool products.
At this moment, he only wanted the Insectoids to feel his blazing sincerity.
Xie Xingchen and the Insectoid Civilization made an agreement: for the next ten years, as long as he continued producing sheep milk powder, he would provide 30 cans per month to the Insectoids.
At first, providing those 30 cans was extremely difficult for him.
He had to scrape and hoard to produce them.
During that time, he didn’t even dare make dairy products, terrified he’d waste the limited sheep milk he had.
Then the beloved sheepdog family stepped up.
They left early and returned late—barely herding sheep at all. Every morning, they pranced out of the pasture with a robot in tow.
They did this repeatedly. Once, they were gone for two full days straight. Just as Xie Xingchen was panicking and about to organize a search party, they returned—driving a huge group of colorful sheep back with them from who-knows-where.
Xie Xingchen: !
He was stunned.
Tears practically welled up. “You really are my precious babies!”
They knew he needed sheep, and they brought back so many!
Almost double the flock!
Now he wouldn’t be short on sheep milk or wool.
Long-Life: “…”
Long-Life: “So, boss… are we making milk tofu?”
Xie Xingchen swept his hand grandly. “Yes! Make it big! Make two batches.”
Long-Life: ?
Two batches?
He didn’t understand, but he was deeply impressed.
Only once they started did he learn that “two batches” meant one batch was for the sheepdog family.
Long-Life had no objections—he only thought the fermented milk might not be enough.
They poured the fermented yogurt into a big pot and simmered it over low heat.
After a while, it started to curdle and separate, releasing sour whey.
Xie Xingchen used a strainer and ladle to scoop out the whey.
Once all the liquid had been removed, he turned the heat up high and kept stirring with a ladle to prevent scorching.
Gradually, the curds lost more and more moisture and became firmer.
When the mass became a solid lump that wouldn’t easily fall apart, Xie Xingchen scooped it into molds.
Then—
“Long-Life, bring the butter tea over,” Xie Xingchen said.
That’s right: Xie Xingchen sneakily made the milk tofu himself, while assigning Long-Life to make butter and hand-churn the butter tea.
Delighted, Xie Xingchen packed the extra milk tofu that didn’t fit in the molds into a bowl, poured in freshly churned butter tea, and started eating.
The stretchy milk tofu was insanely delicious.
It was overflowing with milk aroma, smooth and tender—pure satisfaction in every bite.
Paired with the rich butter tea, it was so good it made you curl your toes.
After finishing the bowl, Xie Xingchen looked at Long-Life with deep regret.
“Long-Life… what a waste. Why can’t you eat? Think of how much deliciousness you’re missing out on!”
In this interstellar era, being at his side should’ve meant getting to taste the best food—yet Long-Life, despite “wealth and status,” couldn’t taste a single thing.
Xie Xingchen didn’t even know whether that was lucky or unlucky.
All he could do was pray they would awaken into full mechanical citizens soon, legally apply for bodies that could digest food, and finally get to enjoy cuisine.
While feeling sorry for Long-Life, Xie Xingchen sliced milk tofu for the sheepdog family.
At first he’d said he’d make a “big” batch for them, but considering they were still dogs, that “big” had been… flexible.
But now he had test reports for the sheepdog family showing excellent digestion—meaning they could safely eat normal human food.
So Xie Xingchen felt too guilty to cut their reward short.
They earned it with real work.
He gave two-thirds of the milk tofu to the sheepdogs and kept only one-third for himself.
After instructing robots to deliver fixed portions to the dog villa daily, Xie Xingchen specifically went to check on Robot A, whom he had transferred from the flower fields near the starship.
He patted Robot A’s shoulder and encouraged it. “A, work hard here. I believe this place suits you better than the flower fields!”
Who knew why a robot could understand animal speech?
That skill wasn’t even common among many animal-civilization citizens.
Yet a robot had it. How unfair was that?
He hadn’t thought about it until he saw Robot A “chatting” with little rabbits while accompanying Xie Xingchen earlier. He immediately realized what a brilliant idea it was.
Use people where they’re best. Use things where they fit.
With that talent, why would you grow flowers? Come manage livestock!
A pasture on the great plains—this was where you could shine.
With his mental abacus clacking loudly, Xie Xingchen had Prosperity drive a hovercar to bring Robot A over.
After observing for several days, he made a decision: Robot A and the system-made planting robots would share responsibility for managing the pasture.
“A, you and B do a great job here. When you do well, I’ll give you rewards,” Xie Xingchen said.
By “rewards,” he meant the different flavored energy drinks he was developing.
Of course, there were other items too—but to robots, nothing beat delicious energy drinks.
After all, they were robots, not full mechanical citizens. Robots didn’t have complicated little schemes.
After leaving the pasture, Xie Xingchen boarded the hovercar.
As it rose, he could see the pasture more clearly.
In a landscape of withered yellow, only the pasture was green.
And that green drew countless animals.
There were cute, harmless little creatures—and also predators that fed on them.
Without realizing it, a small ecological chain had quietly formed on that patch of pasture—just over two thousand mu, not even three thousand.
As he watched the hawks circling overhead, Xie Xingchen suddenly noticed one that stood out.
It was a pure white hawk, slicing across the sky like a white arrow.
Not only was its body white—its talons were white too. It wasn’t as large as the other hawks, but it was exceptionally agile and fierce.
As the hovercar climbed higher, that beautiful hawk disappeared from sight.
Once they reached cruising altitude, Xie Xingchen withdrew his gaze, yawned softly, leaned back, and soon fell asleep.
The distance from the pasture to the starship wasn’t short, yet by hovercar it took only a bit more than an hour—hardly farther than a trip across Hainan Island.
After returning, Xie Xingchen found that the flower fields near the starship had expanded even more. He believed that given enough time, the flowers would bloom all the way to the Chang’an Workshop area.
After getting off the starship, the first thing he did was hold a meeting.
All robots working on-site attended.
The meeting was very short—less than half an hour.
Mainly, robot representatives reported their recent tasks, accomplishments, and any unresolved issues.
They had been working hard, so there was a lot to cover—so much that it took over ten minutes.
Notably, there were no major problems. The only minor issue was raised by the delivery-robot representative: they believed it was time to set up a delivery point at the pasture.
Xie Xingchen checked his balance, saw he had enough funds, and didn’t waste words—he agreed immediately and placed an order with the Mechanical Emporium for a small wormhole receiver.
After quickly solving the delivery issue, Xie Xingchen looked up and asked, “Other than delivery, has anyone run into any problems?”
The robots answered in unison, “No.”
Knowing robots didn’t lie, Xie Xingchen felt reassured and dismissed the meeting.
After the meeting, the robots returned to their work, while Xie Xingchen yawned his way back to the bedroom.
When he woke up, daylight was bright.
Before starting work, he went to the delivery point and mailed gifts he’d prepared for Ludwig and little Randy.
The robots at the delivery point were sharp.
When they saw Xie Xingchen sending a package, they immediately gave it special handling and pushed it through the fast lane.
After mailing it, Xie Xingchen headed briskly toward the rice fields.
The biggest reason he hadn’t stayed at the pasture longer was that Prosperity had notified him the rice fields were nearing harvest.
To help the rice grow safely through this season, Xie Xingchen had buried many energy stones in the paddies.
The fact that the rice could mature in this climate was purely the result of him throwing money at it.
But that also proved the climate here wasn’t as good as Hainan Island’s—growing rice here was harder.
He accepted the climate disadvantage.
In Hainan, they could harvest rice three times a year. Here, getting two harvests a year would already be great.
And even if yield fell short, the taste might not match either.
Thinking about taste, Xie Xingchen suddenly became very interested in the vast black-soil region in the Northeast.
That was black soil—fertile black soil.
It could grow amazing crops.
Sure, it was usually only one harvest a year—but the quality was high.
Northeastern rice was famously fragrant.
The only issue was… rice wasn’t the main crop there, and finding rice might be difficult.
So maybe… when he had time, he could go find some wheat instead?
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