Chapter 34: Bee Farm
The conference room was completely silent.
Only the soft sounds of the smart cleaning device could be heard as it swept up the shattered pieces on the table.
After a long pause, He Fang spoke up hesitantly: “Your Excellency?”
Was that a loss of psychic control just now? Should they call a physician immediately?
Lu Qingyan noticed He Fang’s concern.
He glanced at the numbers on the psychic monitoring device and, seeing no sign of instability, replied calmly, “It’s fine.”
The sudden fluctuation just now—one powerful enough to cause physical change in the real world—hadn’t been triggered by him, or at least, not the current him, in this time and place.
But then… what was it?
Lu Qingyan looked at the now pitch-black screen and asked, “Tell me what you saw just now.”
Chen Mo immediately exported the stored footage, playing it back while voicing his analysis.
In his view, the video matched the data previously sent by the “probe,” confirming a key point:
The source of this strange psychic force came from a time-space dimension that was almost entirely at a primitive stage of civilization and technology.
At first, they had worried that this might be an illusion fabricated by the Zerg to mislead humanity.
But data from the probe suggested that the chance of fakery was extremely low.
After all, the development of any civilization leaves behind unmistakable traces. For instance, the detonation of a nuclear bomb always leaves behind specific radioactive isotopes in the air—even trace amounts would still be detectable by the probe.
But in that world, no such materials were present in the atmosphere.
And “nuclear energy” was a definitive milestone in the transition from primitive to modern civilization.
To the people of Arsa—already living in the interstellar era—this level of primitiveness was far beyond the bounds of daily comprehension.
At this point in Chen Mo’s report, He Fang added:
“Based on current observations, it’s highly likely that the things the boy mentioned during the livestream—like ‘branches’ or ‘screaming mushrooms’—are exactly what they sound like: literal branches and some kind of mushroom, not code names for weapons.”
“And based on our understanding of the Zerg, they can’t extract ‘nutrients’ from a world still stuck in the primitive age. Which means they have no reason to invade it.”
Lu Qingyan nodded slightly.
He Fang paused for two seconds, looking rather troubled. “But that just makes the existence of a psychic livestream even more contradictory.”
“Psychic power… It’s one of the defining traits of the interstellar era. So why would that world have such a powerful psychic presence? And how is it able to break through spacetime and reach Arsa?”
He Fang even raised a hand to scratch his head—an impolite act in front of a superior, but the two questions had clearly haunted him for so long that he forgot his manners entirely.
At that moment, Chen Mo enlarged a section of the footage, zooming in on several fuzzy figures on screen:
“In this clip taken by the probe, the boy is talking to these little, uh, animals.”
“Our system has already analyzed their appearances. The white one is 80% likely to be a miniature rabbit; the brown one shares 70% of its characteristics with a capybara; and this one—the moving little sapling—there’s a 40% chance it’s a rare species known as the ‘dancing tree.’”
“As for the boy’s behavior…”
Chen Mo speculated boldly: “Some pet owners do talk to their animals to build intimacy—it’s not that unusual.”
“But the content of what he’s saying, we haven’t figured out yet.”
“And lastly,” he pointed to a small black furry blob in the center of the screen, “this one is almost certainly a little black cat. Analysis shows a 90% probability it’s a cat.”
…A cat.
Lu Qingyan pinched the bridge of his nose and asked a completely unexpected question:
“Did you hear that ‘cat’ talk?”
He Fang and Chen Mo exchanged bewildered looks, and finally shook their heads: “Talk? No. But the black cat did meow twice.”
Lu Qingyan’s expression shifted slightly, and he only said, “Alright.”
*
Back in his office, Lu Qingyan opened the medical report sent earlier by the physician.
Besides Colonel Tu and Major Shu’s steady mental recovery, there was exciting news from Dr. Sun in a recent report:
“Major General Kang is also showing signs of improvement!”
Major General Kang’s psychic entity was called Dang Kang. In past battles, this brown-black beast with tusks had the power to create powerful defensive fields for the Imperial Army. When it chanted, an “absolute iron wall” would form at its location, capable of blocking the Zerg’s corrosive psychic energy.
Three years ago, like Tu Mingyuan and Shu Yiheng, this young general fell into a coma.
During the final battle, Dang Kang’s barrier endured psychic attacks far beyond its limits. Major General Kang’s own psyche had been so damaged that his psychic entity could only be described as “shattered.”
But now, recent monitoring charts showed that Kang’s once erratic mental waves were slowly returning to a normal range!
Even more astonishing: the tattered Dang Kang was visibly healing—its external wounds gradually fading.
Of course, Dr. Sun and his team still had no idea why.
At one point, when reporting directly to Marshal Lu, Dr. Sun had been so excited he blurted out:
“If only someone from that family were still around. Then we could directly observe the mental landscapes of officers like Kang and understand what’s happening to their entities. Honestly, if we’d had access to those landscapes earlier, this entire crisis could’ve been avoided…”
It wasn’t until his assistant nudged his arm that Dr. Sun realized what he’d just said. Why had he brought up that family? He quickly shut his mouth.
Thankfully, the marshal had neither responded nor shown any displeasure.
Since Kang’s recovery began, Dr. Sun had been sending detailed daily mental activity reports to Marshal Lu—down to fluctuations by the minute.
Lu Qingyan skimmed the latest chart.
The data matched his own deductions.
He closed the report and switched the interface to replay the video sent by the probe.
“Rabbit.” “Sapling.” “Capybara.” The three stood in a neat row.
And nestled in the boy’s arms… the black cat.
Lu Qingyan pinched the bridge of his nose once more.
*
Pioneer’s Cabin.
Dusk fell.
Rawr Rawr Rabbit was fast asleep in its nest, long ears drooping down. Gulp Glup had buried itself in the garden bed, eyes shut, lips curled into a peaceful smile. The newly joined Kakaba was soaking in a basin of water, letting out content little snores.
When Chu Jiu returned to the bedroom after his bath, this was the scene that greeted him.
All the spirit beasts were asleep—except for Little Can.
The kitten wasn’t even in the bedroom.
Chu Jiu sighed softly and picked up a candle, heading downstairs.
He found Little Can sitting at the top of the cat tree, gazing up at the moon through the window.
Of course Little Can knew Chu Jiu was there. But it stubbornly kept its head raised, refusing to look at him.
Chu Jiu sat down on a bench nearby, also looking up at the moon. He spoke gently, “Are you mad?”
Of course it was mad.
His whiskers were twitching furiously with anger, his tail stiff, and even his fur was puffed up.
But Little Can, head held high, remained silent.
Chu Jiu sighed, “I’m not really going to take away your dried fish, you know.”
Little Can didn’t move.
Chu Jiu rested his chin on his hand, thinking for a while, then said, “…I wasn’t… I wasn’t scolding you for not working.”
Little Can’s tail swished slightly.
Chu Jiu said softly, “I… I was worried about you.”
Little Can peeked his little head down from the top of the cat tree to look at Chu Jiu, his icy blue eyes narrowing into semi-circles.
Chu Jiu held out a hand to the kitten: “Come down here, I’ll tell you why I was worried.”
Little Can hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually jumped into Chu Jiu’s hand and was scooped gently into his arms.
Chu Jiu petted his head and explained as simply as he could that he had a strange ability—an ability that allowed him to communicate with spirit beasts like Little Can, assign them jobs, watch them grow from their work, and even receive warnings when their spiritual energy began to decline due to inactivity.
Little Can understood.
He tapped Chu Jiu’s cheek with his paw pad: “So, what you’re saying is… you’re worried that if I keep avoiding things like farming and beekeeping, it’ll hurt my body?”
Chu Jiu nodded. “Exactly.”
After a pause, he added, “But honestly, not being able to find a job you’re interested in and comfortable with—that’s on me.”
After all, Little Can was just a small cat.
As the caretaker of a little kitten, how could he blame the kitten for not wanting to work?
“I went too far this afternoon. I’m sorry.”
“I… I’ll work hard to build more facilities so you can find something you like.”
According to the logic of the system, only tasks related to certain facilities could count as “work” that helped a spirit beast grow. Since that was the case, he’d figure out what kind of facility would make Little Can actually want to work.
Little Can lightly patted Chu Jiu’s face again, then after a long pause let out a soft “meow”: “You really were worried about me.”
This human… was worried about me.
Worried I wouldn’t grow, that I’d get sick, that my powers would be affected…
Little Can felt his heart melt with warmth, while also being overcome by a kind of flustered awkwardness, like he didn’t know where to put his paws.
“Of course I was,” Chu Jiu said.
Little Can looked up at Chu Jiu—looked at the boy’s face bathed in the hazy moonlight, looked into those black-and-white eyes.
Then, suddenly, Little Can stretched up and planted a kiss on the boy’s porcelain-like cheek.
“Huh?!” Chu Jiu gasped, shocked and delighted that the little kitten had kissed him.
He held Little Can up in front of him: “So, you’re not mad anymore?”
Little Can: “Mm.”
Chu Jiu: “We’ve made up?”
Little Can: “…Mm.”
Smiling brightly, Chu Jiu kissed the kitten’s fluffy forehead and stood up: “Alright, let’s go to bed! I’ll make you little fish balls in the morning.”
Little Can rubbed his paw over his forehead and buried his face in his arms.
*
Five Days Later.
Chu Jiu blinked sleepily awake and first noticed the little red notification dot in his backend panel.
Huh? At this hour, it was probably telling him the first batch of honey was ready for harvest, right?
Great!
Chu Jiu was just about to click in when he heard an urgent bell ringing outside.
Someone was looking for him at this hour? And they sounded really anxious?
Could it be something serious?
He threw on some clothes, scooped up Little Can, and hurried out—only to find it was Cheng Yue.
The girl, who had always been somewhat shy and soft-spoken, now had flushed cheeks and an expression more excited than he’d ever seen.
Seeing Chu Jiu running over, she trembled slightly as she pulled a narrow strip of cloth from her apron pocket.
“A-Jiu, A-Jiu, look—is this the ‘cotton cloth’ you talked about?”
“There’s only a little bit for now, but—but—!”
Chu Jiu froze for a second, then took the strip and gave it a tug. With complete certainty, he exclaimed:
“That’s right! This is cotton cloth!”
“You did it!”
“You took cotton—from cotton grown in the ground—and turned it into fabric we can wear and use!”
Cheng Yue was trembling slightly, her eyes welling with tears. “Yeah, I did it…”
“I—I can finally give Cheng Lin and the others softer, more comfortable clothes…”
“And not just for ourselves. We—we can trade it! For supplies, for money!”
This fabric made from cotton was unbelievably soft.
Even rubbing it against her cheek didn’t cause the slightest irritation.
After years of spinning wool and weaving coarse hemp, Cheng Yue understood instantly—this cotton fabric was incredible!
Not just because of its softness and fine texture—but most importantly, like nettle, its raw material grew straight from the earth!
And planting cotton was way cheaper than fencing land and raising sheep.
Chu Jiu nodded vigorously: “Yes! Yes! Once the next batch of cotton is harvested and you have enough to make more fabric, you’ll be able to sell it for money!”
Cheng Yue wiped her tears, trying to compose herself, though her voice still choked with emotion:
“Yeah, yeah. Planting cotton, weaving cotton cloth…”
As she spoke, she could no longer hold back and burst into tears. “This is amazing…”
“I… sniffle… A-Jiu, thank you, I—I…”
Thank you for bringing back this magical thing that could keep the whole village warm and comfortable, and even help everyone earn a living.
Watching her ramble through her tears, Chu Jiu gently patted her back. After she calmed down a little, he said:
“No need to thank me. I just happened to find the plant and remembered a few random facts.”
“Now… let’s go tell the village chief the good news.”
“Next year, Bean Village will have a brand new, one-of-a-kind product!”
After Cheng Yue left, Chu Jiu finally had time to check the red notification dot in his system panel—
[Notification from “Honor Region – Bean Village”: A villager has learned the “cotton fabric recipe.”]
[Host has obtained the “Cotton Fabric Recipe” and can now produce cotton cloth instantly.]
[Host successfully guided villager insight.]
[+500 Pioneer Points]
Just as he suspected! He was right!
Sure enough, having the villagers comprehend the recipe is completely different from doing it himself!
When he learns a recipe himself, he can rely on the [Virtual Assembly Line] to quickly test and adjust things, and the passive skill [Clear Mind] ensures he stays focused—so his comprehension speed is definitely much faster than the villagers’.
However, when villagers slowly figure out a recipe on their own, it actually gives him extra Expansion Points!
What a pity that only villagers with the corresponding skill can comprehend recipes—otherwise, this would truly be a great new source of income.
His first theory about this “Honor Region” had now been confirmed.
But there was another, even more important and critical theory.
Chu Jiu glanced at the production progress of the Bee Farm in the backend, feeling a bit nervous.
That anxiety lasted for several hours…
Finally, he received a notification about the honey:
[The first batch of honey has matured]
[Spirit Beast No. 4 has completed the harvest]
[Premium Honey +20]
All expected.
Nothing else?
Chu Jiu unconsciously pursed his lips.
The system stayed silent for two seconds, then popped up a new notification:
[Congratulations! You’ve met the hidden condition: “Raise a magical creature and harvest its product!”]
[Based on the type of magical creature selected, you’ve now received a hidden reward: “Standard Bee Farm” facility blueprint ×1]
[Construction requirements: 300 Expansion Points, 5 Bamboo Stalks, 5 Wood, 1 Spirit Beast]
[Once you build this facility, you can generate “Honor Region Exclusive Blueprints” and hand them over to local residents for construction]
Chu Jiu’s heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t help but cheer out loud, “Yes! Yes! I was right!”
This was the reward he had been waiting for!
The moment he saw the Magical Beast Ranch described as “not directly reusable in the Honor Region”, he began to suspect—if direct reuse isn’t possible, could the facility be adapted for use under certain conditions?
So he took a chance.
The magical beast he picked was the Bloodthirsty Bee—visually terrifying, but with habits almost identical to regular bees.
If he guessed right, he’d get a large supply of premium honey and allow villagers in Bean Village to raise bees themselves, so they wouldn’t have to risk their lives climbing mountains to gather wild honey anymore.
If he was wrong? Well, at least he’d have more honey than he could ever eat—not a loss either way.
And the result? Just as expected—this method really did give him a facility blueprint!
Ha! He had uncovered one of the system’s hidden little tricks!
Chu Jiu now felt like he’d just solved the bonus question on a big test—after chewing his pen for ages—and the feeling of success swelled in his chest.
His unfiltered joy immediately caught the attention of Little Can.
The little black cat jumped onto his shoulder, pressing its paw to his cheek: “Meow meow?” — “What’s got you so happy?”
Chu Jiu held the cat in his hands and stroked its soft fur as he replied simply, saying he’d just figured out a hidden function of his ability, and now he could build even more things and get even more done.
Saying that, he couldn’t resist lowering his head and giving the little guy a kiss on the forehead.
Ever since that big fight between the two of them—and Chu Jiu’s sincere apology—Little Can had been a lot more cooperative with his affection.
Like now.
Not only did the little cat not try to push him away like it used to, it even stretched up and gently rubbed its face against Chu Jiu’s.
This human… really does get happy over the weirdest things.
A little silly, but… so cute.
*
Meanwhile, on Arsa Star.
Lu Qingyan was in a video call with Doctor Sun.
“Doctor Sun, to your knowledge, can spiritual entities communicate freely with each other, but only their own summoner can understand their ‘language’?” Lu Qingyan asked.
Doctor Sun didn’t really understand why the Marshal would ask such an obvious question. But he answered dutifully:
“Yes. That’s correct. Currently, only a spirit beast’s own master can understand its ‘language.’”
He paused, then added:
“That’s been the case for a while now. Only the summoner can comprehend their spirit’s communication.”
Back in the day… there might have been exceptions. But now, not on Arsa Star.
Lu Qingyan said a quiet, “Understood,” and ended the call.
Leaving Doctor Sun confused: What on earth is the Marshal thinking about?
Lu Qingyan furrowed his brows and looked at the frozen screen in front of him:
A small black cat, no larger than a hand, lay on a young boy’s shoulder. Its icy blue eyes stared warily at a nearby detector behind the boy.
That look in its eyes—Lu Qingyan knew it well.
Whenever the big cat in his mental landscape sensed something off, it would show exactly that expression.
And it wasn’t just the expression he recognized.
When the black cat spoke to the boy, Lu Qingyan understood every single word it said. Perfectly.
Among everyone present, only he could understand it.
All signs pointed to one conclusion—one that seemed utterly absurd:
The black cat… was his spirit beast.
Thank you for the update I wasn’t expecting it so soon, I can’t wait to see more chapters and for when Lu Qingyan to meet Chi Jui