Chapter 92
The “one item, multiple uses” plan died on the spot, and Xie Xingchen was forced to miss out on a tiny, tiny bit of profit—only about a few hundred million.
Before leaving, he sighed and deliberately picked a citrus tree with especially sweet fruit, then manually fed it mental power to speed up its ripening.
When the golden-yellow fruit fully matured, it turned a bright orange-red. The plump citrus looked bursting with juice, and it was huge—so huge that even the “normal” ones were almost bigger than Xie Xingchen’s face. He weighed one in his hand: a single big citrus was at least two jin (about 1 kg). It looked incredibly “valuable.”
He picked every citrus off that force-ripened tree and put them into a freshness-preservation box, planning to eat them slowly.
Citrus already keeps well on its own, and with the preservation box’s effect, storing it for a month was no problem at all—it wouldn’t affect the sweetness one bit!
After marking the spot on the map, Xie Xingchen got back into the hovercar and continued the trip home.
But maybe his luck for the day had already been used up the moment he ran into the citrus trees.
The return trip took more than ten hours in total, and along the way—other than loquat trees and citrus trees—Xie Xingchen gained nothing else.
By the time he got back to Chang’an Workshop, it was deep night.
Now and then, the northern wind howled past with a strange whistling sound—like some monster choosing someone to devour, or like the suppressed wail of an adult on the verge of collapse.
Walking alone through the antique-styled courtyard, Xie Xingchen suddenly felt just how big it was… and how empty.
Maybe it was because he’d thought of the Lunar New Year?
The Lunar New Year—what a wonderful holiday.
Even people who were poor and loved to argue would become unusually patient on that day, and unusually willing to treat themselves to something good to eat.
Xie Xingchen’s impression of the Lunar New Year was very deep.
Whether it was the brand-new clothes buried in childhood memories, the ear-splitting firecrackers, or the adult years when he chose to work holiday part-time for triple pay—during that period, everyone he saw was smiling, as if the arrival of a new year swept away all the bad luck of the old one.
Some things really shouldn’t be thought about. Once you start, it becomes harder and harder to stop.
Staring up at the unpolluted starry sky and thinking about those people and moments from past Lunar New Years, Xie Xingchen fell silent.
After about twenty minutes, he patted his own cheeks and muttered, “Sigh… they say the past can’t be chased. The more you think, the worse it hurts. Better find something to do.”
Easy to say, hard to do. Sometimes your brain doesn’t listen to you. There are people who can stop thinking on command—but clearly, Xie Xingchen wasn’t one of them.
To distract himself, he opened StarBlog.
The moment he did, his light-brain lagged again.
Unread messages: 999+
In the past, the red notification dot used to bother him. Now he was just grateful he didn’t have “must-clear-red-dots” OCD—otherwise he wouldn’t get anything done except reading messages all day.
He didn’t bother checking his own comments or DMs. If nothing unexpected happened, it was just more urging and wailing anyway. But other things were pretty interesting.
For example, the long-unseen main “shou” protagonist, Yu Cheng—only half a year after graduation (a bit over a year if you counted internship)—had somehow clawed his way from absolutely nothing to owning his own manor.
But because of his “everyone loves me” aura, the internet talked even more about his love life. All the major shipper fandoms were fighting like mad, trying to secure an “official pairing” spot for their favorite ship.
Xie Xingchen: “…”
Looks like even in the interstellar era, fandom arguments were basically the same as ever.
He hadn’t eaten pork, but he’d seen pigs run. With enough part-time jobs, Xie Xingchen had met all kinds of people—some were coworkers, some were customers.
Especially back when he worked at a milk-tea shop—he’d heard endless girls chatting about idols and celebrities. What they talked about then compared to the online fights now… you couldn’t even say they were “similar.” They were identical.
Shippers online: ? Seriously, thanks.
Setting aside Yu Cheng’s gossip and setting aside his own trending topics, the Human Civilization trending list suddenly looked empty.
He focused—and saw that the remaining trends were about the Fu family and the Plant Association?
—Nope. Out, out, out.
Today’s Human Civilization trends were toxic. Not looking. Not looking.
Afraid of getting poisoned, Xie Xingchen fled to the subfeed for other civilizations.
With a curious little itch, he tapped into the Plant Civilization StarBlog again.
But just like the trends he’d seen before, almost everything on the Plant Civilization trending list was just official notices being reposted and boosted.
Xie Xingchen: “…”
As expected of long-lived species. An entire civilization, and not a single one chasing “traffic codes”?
But that wasn’t actually true!
There’s an old saying: when the forest is big, there are all kinds of birds.
Even if the Plant Civilization people couldn’t be bothered to move, there were always mutants and hybrids, right?
Was it that they didn’t want the traffic code?
No. They just couldn’t pry it loose!
What all plant-life in the Plant Civilization pursued—besides sunlight and rain—was nutrient-rich soil.
And they lived forever. Their plant nature made them want to find a patch of ground, root themselves, and sleep at any time.
Forget being netizens—sometimes they couldn’t even be bothered to go to work. They could survive on soil alone, and with a patch of land they could root and thrive. Who needs your capitalist “blessings” when you’re literally born to live off nature?
So the would-be reformers had no choice. There really was no traffic.
If they wanted traffic, they had to leave for other civilizations and stir up trouble there—leaving the Plant Civilization trending list quiet as a chicken.
Switching to the Mermaid Civilization, the mermaids were still happily immersed in “shore foraging + oyster opening” activities.
But because their annual Migration Assembly was approaching, the trending list had a lot more related content.
Speaking of that Migration Assembly, Xie Xingchen was pretty jealous of mermaids.
They were beautiful, and they lived extremely well!
By household unit, a mermaid family had at least two undersea homes—and the prices were ridiculously low, because the civilization subsidized citizens to buy them!
Why would the Mermaid Civilization subsidize two houses per family?
For one reason: that annual Migration Assembly.
Everyone knows mermaids love comfort—but what they enjoy isn’t luxury goods beyond normal income. What they enjoy is natural temperature and comfortable climate conditions.
So every year, mermaids held a large-scale migration, leaving the settlement that had become cold and seeking a warmer place to live.
This species-level migration behavior was exactly why mermaids had at least one undersea home in the south and one in the north.
After learning that, Xie Xingchen was amazed—and he developed a strong fondness for the Mermaid Civilization’s leadership.
One person getting rich isn’t real richness!
A leader who’s willing to spend money to help an entire civilization’s citizens prosper—that’s a good leader!
Because it wasn’t migration time yet, the mermaids were only livestreaming migration preparation activities, so after watching for a while, Xie Xingchen left again.
This time he didn’t browse other civilizations’ StarBlogs. After being flooded with information and having his melancholy washed away, Xie Xingchen grew sleepy while looking at the Mermaid Civilization trends.
He fell asleep before even exiting the app.
He didn’t know how long it was before his faintly glowing light-brain shut itself off. The smart butler then turned off the lights as well and activated sleep mode.
A week had passed since he found the citrus trees. During this week, Xie Xingchen didn’t stay at Chang’an Workshop—he ran to the ranch to ride horses.
The King Horse still refused him, and there was nothing he could do about that. But ordinary horses, because he paid enough, were more than willing to let him tack up and experience that lightning-fast thrill again.
But honestly, it also snowed at the ranch.
Riding was fun, but being forced to wear a mask and stay within a designated area (inside the ranch) felt too restricting. After a few times, Xie Xingchen started finding it boring.
In the end, he spent a “huge price” to coax the King Horse into going out with him, and they tore across the snowy grassland in a wild burst of speed and passion.
That feeling was unbelievably exhilarating!
So exhilarating that Xie Xingchen wanted to do it a hundred million more times.
[Message to Long-Life: Long-Life, remember to lead the robots to pick citrus tomorrow.]
While petting the horse, Xie Xingchen sent Long-Life a message, reminding him to lead the robots to the citrus grove to harvest citrus.
Ahem. You know. Harvesting fruit—robots can handle that just fine.
No need for him, right? He had to stay here and “supervise,” to check how fast those colorful sheep were increasing!
Having finally found himself a perfect excuse, Xie Xingchen lifted his chin proudly, convinced he was the kind of person who loved work.
He definitely wasn’t staying a few extra days because it was fun here. He was staying because work needed him here. He was forced to stay here to work!
Yes. Exactly!
But texting wasn’t enough, so he opened a call—and Long-Life saw right through him at one glance.
Long-Life said stiffly, “Boss, don’t explain.”
The more you explain, the more guilty you sound.
Xie Xingchen glanced at him and said earnestly, “Long-Life, I’m communicating a work plan with you! Don’t get carried away. Fix your attitude.”
Long-Life: [Handsome guy speechless.jpg]
Who exactly is the one getting carried away?
This was bullying him because he couldn’t raise his voice at his owner.
Long-Life tried to accuse him with his eyes, but Xie Xingchen pretended not to see.
He continued, “That shepherd-dog family recently found a whole bunch of colorful sheep from who knows what corner. I have to stay here to observe the situation.”
At this, Xie Xingchen couldn’t help clicking his tongue. That shepherd-dog family was just too amazing!
A family of four, all the exact employee type the boss loved.
Not only did they voluntarily work overtime and take hardship without complaint—they even learned to go outside and find suppliers for the boss before the boss said anything, setting KPIs for themselves.
And if that were all, fine—what mattered was that their “supply” was endless.
Every day there were new colorful sheep. By now, excluding newborn lambs, the number of colorful sheep had exceeded a thousand. Xie Xingchen even had to consider expanding the breeding facility.
The only problem was: the flock was getting so big that the shepherd-dog family couldn’t manage it anymore.
A sweet problem, but still a problem.
Xie Xingchen had originally planned to truly vacation here. But after using that excuse, he suddenly realized he couldn’t fully vacation—because there really was a lot of work waiting for him here.
Now it was his turn to be speechless.
Seeing the dead-inside look on Xie Xingchen’s face, even the robot’s rigid mouth corners couldn’t help curling up slightly.
Long-Life reminded him, “Boss, then work hard at the ranch. Tomorrow I’ll organize everyone to harvest citrus.”
Then Long-Life hung up.
Xie Xingchen: ? Fine. Loving work is a good thing.
Long-Life went to work, leaving Xie Xingchen standing there, conflicted for a while. He wanted to keep playing, but in the end, work won.
Forget it. He could ride horses anytime. Better solve the problem in front of him first—otherwise he wouldn’t enjoy playing even if he forced it.
So instead of lazing around, Xie Xingchen ended up even busier. Forget riding—he didn’t even have time to drink water.
Why?
Because that shepherd-dog family was too diligent!
They brought back unfamiliar colorful sheep every day.
Outside, snow fell and drifted. Forget fresh grass—even dry yellow weeds were scarce. The newly arrived colorful sheep were so hungry they bleated nonstop, and the moment they saw grassland, they started gnawing.
Xie Xingchen’s alfalfa field was large, but there were also more and more small animals living here now. This patch of land really wasn’t enough anymore.
Now that Xie Xingchen was here, with mental power available and a supplier for green-substance potion present, it would be embarrassing not to help expand the pasture.
He worked like crazy for three days. After leaving behind crates of energy stones, plant growth liquid, and plant nutrient liquid, Xie Xingchen planned a strategic retreat.
Xie Xingchen: [Smiling.jpg]
If he didn’t leave now, his reserves would be drained again.
Who told him he couldn’t recruit planting masters?
Without using the Earth Commerce brand, recruiting planting masters was extremely difficult. Even the “planting master” recommended by that business partner was really just a student majoring in planting.
The student was only sent over because he wanted somewhere to get practical experience—and because his parents had keenly sensed there was a powerful backer behind the Xie family manor, so they sent their son over.
But a normal planting-major student from a regular higher academy couldn’t help Xie Xingchen much.
Even for the simplest task—making green-substance potion—he struggled to produce anything fully qualified. Usually he would work hard, then let Xie Xingchen refine it further.
It did reduce Xie Xingchen’s workload a little, but honestly, the benefit wasn’t obvious.
The only thing Xie Xingchen liked was that the kid was honest, hardworking, and did whatever he was told. He was diligent and steady, with none of the arrogance common among planting masters. That made Xie Xingchen satisfied enough to keep him around, and he didn’t even mind letting the kid know the manor was his.
So far, the kid hadn’t done much work, but he’d enjoyed plenty of employee benefits—so much that he didn’t want to leave anymore, and even wanted to cling to the manor after graduation.
Xie Xingchen didn’t mind. The kid had good character, and he was the son of a long-term business partner. Being a bit lacking in ability wasn’t a dealbreaker.
But Xie Xingchen still needed time to evaluate him. Only after more evaluation would he let the kid do anything besides making green-substance potion.
When Xie Xingchen returned to Chang’an Workshop, Get-Rich came to ask: what should they do with the mountain-like pile of citrus?
Xie Xingchen went to the warehouse for a look.
It really was—mountains.
Those peaks made of alluring orange-red citrus were absolutely shocking.
And not just the sight—the smell was shocking too.
The rich, refreshing fragrance of citrus filled the entire warehouse. It was more pleasant than any high-end perfume.
It was the kind of fruity scent people fell in love with instantly.
No matter the age or gender, very few people disliked the smell of citrus.
Get-Rich pointed at the warehouse. “Boss, are we listing all these citrus in the Earth Commerce fruit shop?”
Xie Xingchen pointed at one smaller mound. “Keep the best fruit from this pile. I’m giving those away. The rest—run a promotional event.”
Then he asked, “Oh right, Get-Rich—did the custom citrus gift boxes arrive?”
Get-Rich: “They arrived. They’re in another warehouse.”
Xie Xingchen nodded and walked to the other warehouse.
When he saw the gift boxes, he nodded with satisfaction.
Following the same style as the children’s cookie gift boxes, these citrus boxes were also designed in a cute chibi style.
There were three sizes in total.
The smallest was a square box that could hold only one two-jin citrus (about 1 kg).
The second was a rectangular combo gift box. The cute outer box could be split apart; inside were two small boxes, and each small box could hold one big three-jin citrus (about 1.5 kg).
The last one was a cool gift box shaped like a little car model. The bottom compartment could hold two citrus weighing three to four jin each (about 1.5–2 kg), and the arched top could hold one citrus weighing two to three jin (about 1–1.5 kg). In total, it could hold three citrus.
As for the remaining citrus under one jin (under 0.5 kg), Xie Xingchen chose to package them in paper bags printed with the same cute designs. They were called “paper bags,” but in fact they were made from a new eco-friendly material—grind it into powder, add a certain substance, and it could be remade into identical bag material again.
The bigger the citrus, the better it tasted. So the gift-box citrus was priced higher than the paper-bag citrus, and the car-shaped gift box was priced higher than the rectangular one.
In the end, the prices were:
- Paper-bag citrus: 500 star-coins per bag, one fruit per bag
- Square gift box: 2,000 star-coins per box, one fruit per box
- Rectangular gift box: 6,000 star-coins per box, two fruits per box
- Car-shaped gift box: 15,000 star-coins per box, three fruits per box
Among these, the square small boxes were produced in the greatest quantity, and the car-shaped boxes were the rarest.
There were also the very best citrus Xie Xingchen had set aside—mostly over four jin each (over 2 kg).
But those boxes weren’t for sale. He would only give them away—to friends and family, and to event prize winners.
Xie Xingchen (Verified): With the Lunar New Year approaching, Earth Commerce will launch a Lunar New Year Carnival event! Tons of prizes—don’t miss it if you pass by! [Attached: event details image]
Lunar New Year Carnival Event
- Event period: Star Alliance Calendar Year 366, Jan 23 – Feb 18
- Eligible participants: All customers who purchase Earth Commerce items during the event period
- How it works: For every completed order during the event, the customer receives one random draw chance
- Draw prizes: “Priority Purchase Card,” “This Order Free,” “Try Again,” “Chance to buy a Citrus Mega Pack (4 sizes),” “Thanks for your patronage,” etc.
- Grand draw: On the last day of the event, Earth Commerce will select 100 winners from all valid participants and gift them a Lunar New Year Mega Pack for free
- Other: Good luck! The Lunar New Year Mega Pack contains lots of goodies—everything you all want is inside, so don’t miss it!
Comments:
[Box Gremlin: What the hell? Am I hallucinating?]
[Mr. Adorbs: Damn! They’re finally doing an event! Earth Commerce is really doing an event! Aaaah! I can’t believe I’m living to see this!]
[Preparing to Migrate: Waaa I’m too excited—I can’t—why does it have to be the 23rd? We migrate on the 23rd. Can’t it be today? I want the event today!]
The moment the Lunar New Year Carnival was announced, everyone exploded.
Not because it was bad—on the contrary, it was because it was too good!
Just look at the prizes:
Priority Purchase Cards, a free order, try again, and chances to buy four different sizes of citrus mega packs! And then the grand prize—Boss Xie promised a mega pack containing everything people wanted!
Seriously—who wouldn’t want that?
Everyone wants that, okay?!
[Dirt-Eater: Ahem… honestly… I’m not greedy, I just want a Priority Purchase Card.]
[Fish Tail: Oh wow, listen to you—“not greedy”? Who doesn’t want a Priority Purchase Card? That’s the best possible personal draw reward!]
Ten priority purchase chances!
Didn’t everyone see how many people envied, resented, and hated streamer Alice just because she had a few Priority Purchase Cards?
People were basically one step away from forming a group to break into her house and steal them. (:3 ??)
Who wouldn’t want it?
Having one meant you had ten guaranteed chances to buy Earth products!
People with big hearts couldn’t help fantasizing about what they’d do if they drew a Priority Purchase Card—but the more careful ones started parsing the wording.
They couldn’t do anything about the unified grand draw at the end, but wasn’t there also the personal draws?
One draw chance for every completed order!
Meaning—if you could secure products in the first place, the best payment method would be to split payments into multiple orders, so it counted as several transactions and gave you more draw chances.
However—
Right now, besides the expensive essential oils and hydrosols, everything else at Earth Commerce was a pure reflex-and-hand-speed?. So…
Never mind. Nothing to see. Is this rule just for rich people?
Heh. I refuse!
Determined not to let rich people take advantage, the people who noticed the loophole said nothing.
But another group—who were even better at spotting loopholes—found a different way to farm draw chances: the food tasting slots.
They couldn’t split multiple orders while fighting for limited items, sure—but food tasting slots didn’t require “snatching” anymore!
There were so many tasting slots now that as long as you didn’t show up too late, you could basically meet your needs.
And those tasting slots were also Earth Commerce products, meaning the money still went to Earth Commerce—so that should count as an order too, right? If so, there was no reason buying tasting slots wouldn’t grant draw chances.
With that thought, everyone’s hearts lit up like a wildfire. They felt like they’d found a shortcut!
And they were right—Xie Xingchen did include food tasting slots in the event.
It’s the Lunar New Year—have fun! Let everyone celebrate!
It’s the biggest traditional festival of the year!
So what if the interstellar era doesn’t have this holiday?
As long as he wanted, he could make everyone celebrate with him. He could make everyone remember the Lunar New Year as a traditional festival!
And he wasn’t just doing an in-mall event—he was also going to livestream offline, having everyone stick up spring couplets and cut window paper art together, celebrating a beautiful Lunar New Year together!
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