Chapter 133
Hearing Li Hua’s words, the other three also tilted their heads to look up.
Staring at the vibrant Star-chain Fruit growing on the vines, Lang Ze almost began drooling.
He turned his head and called out to Wei Ming, who had been tending to the greenery in the yard. “Uncle Wei, can we pick those fruits now?”
After the incident involving the awakening of the mutant garlic and the subsequent chaos, Cen Liang and Zhuang Shisong had left and not returned. Only Wei Ming remained to look after the nursery.
When the blood rain alert sounded, Wei Ming had been extremely anxious. Despite his fear, he didn’t retreat to the nursery building for shelter but instead stayed in the green space, trying to figure out what to do.
He had just started debating whether to dig up and protect the two young pear saplings when the blood rain abruptly stopped.
This situation, which he had never encountered before, now had him examining the clear rainwater and collecting samples for testing. The sudden and unusual nature of the rain made him wonder if it was an upgraded form of blood rain.
As for the other plants in the green space, they were temporarily not his concern. Hearing Lang Ze’s call, Wei Ming quickly ran over.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked nervously.
Lang Ze pointed to the Star-chain Fruit vines on the rope net. “The fruits are ripe! Can we pick them and eat them?”
By this time, the other younglings in their rooms were also poking their heads out to look, including Ran Lie, who had just woken up from exhaustion.
Having completely depleted his Crimson Flame energy, Ran Lie had reverted to his human form and was now dressed in the nursery’s standard youngling clothes provided by 4586.
Unaware of Su Ci’s earlier decision to open the windows, Ran Lie was startled upon waking to find a new window in his room.
But ultimately, the view outside captured his attention.
This familiar place where he had grown up suddenly felt more open and expansive with the addition of a single window.
The oppressive and stifling feeling that had often left him gasping for air seemed to vanish the moment the window was opened.
Ran Lie walked to the window and tentatively pushed it.
The smart lock clicked open in response. He paused, then pushed further, fully opening the window.
A fresh breeze carrying the scent of grass rushed in, and Ran Lie took a deep breath. Gazing at the broader view outside, he felt a fleeting sense of freedom he had always longed for.
Ran Lie froze for a moment. He had followed caretakers outside the base before but never experienced this sense of liberation. And now, it had come from something as simple as a window.
He didn’t understand why the feeling was so different.
As he stood in a daze, he heard the voices of the wolf cub and the others.
Peering down, he was once again surprised.
Seeing the green space from a close distance had already amazed him. But from above, the view offered an entirely new perspective.
The vitality blooming amidst the desolation stirred something within him. He unconsciously recited a line from his mental cultivation technique, faintly grasping a new understanding.
Meanwhile, the conversation downstairs continued.
“We can pick them, but whether they’re edible or not, we’ll have to ask Caretaker Su,” Wei Ming told Lang Ze.
The green space belonged to Caretaker Su, and Wei Ming had no authority over the fruits. However, as he looked at the bright red fruits hanging on the vines, a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes.
He noticed that most of the ripe fruits were from three Star-chain Fruit trees growing beneath the rope net. The other Star-chain Fruit trees had only just entered their flowering stage, far from bearing fruit.
Even the Star-chain Fruit trees planted near the two mutant pear trees weren’t yet ready to bear fruit.
How did these three Star-chain Fruit trees grow so quickly?
Wei Ming couldn’t help but recall an earlier scene—the young man standing outside the greenhouse, with the vines growing wildly across the wall. In the end, the most vibrant and plump cluster of Star-chain Fruit had appeared right in front of him.
Although it should have been just a coincidence…
Wei Ming recalled how Caretaker Su had taken some withered vines from Zhuang Shisong before leaving.
At the time, Wei Ming thought it was impossible for Su Ci to revive those dead vines. However, the flourishing green space before him now was a slap in the face, and he no longer dared to make rash assumptions.
Could these three fast-growing Star-chain Fruit trees be related to those withered vines? Had they… mutated as well?
But was that even possible?
The nursery already had two mutant pear trees; could there really be three more mutant Star-chain Fruit trees? If that were true… wasn’t this a bit too much mutation for one place?
Wei Ming had been working at Base 24’s cultivation center for a few years, and in that time, the base had only seen one mutant plant. Due to budget constraints, they couldn’t afford to keep it and had reluctantly handed it over to Base 26.
The good relationship between Base 24 and Base 26, with frequent mutual support, was partly thanks to that transaction.
In any case, mutant plants were extremely rare.
The possibility that the nursery now had five mutant plants left Wei Ming shocked and puzzled.
Was this nursery some kind of blessed land? How else could so many mutant plants appear in such a short period?
Wei Ming suddenly thought of something and instinctively looked up at the sky outside the greenhouse.
The gentle drizzle continued to fall, soft and steady. There was no oppressive gloom, no frightening phenomena—just a simple, ordinary rain.
Could it be… that the environment of the prison planet had undergone another change?
Wei Ming couldn’t prove it, but he had to admit, he liked this change.
While he was lost in thought, Lang Ze had already begun climbing the rope net, eager to pick some fruit.
“Hey, wait! That’s dangerous!” Wei Ming snapped out of it and quickly called out to stop him.
Lang Ze, already two meters up, laughed. “This isn’t dangerous at all! You’re making a fuss over nothing!”
But Rong Heng’s calm words made him freeze in his tracks.
“Lang Ze, you’ll damage the vines if you climb like that.”
The rope net was nearly covered with Star-chain Fruit vines, leaving very few footholds. Inevitably, climbing would involve stepping on or pulling at the vines.
Lang Ze scratched his head and looked down. “Then what should I do?”
“Come down first,” Wei Ming suggested from below.
“Fine…”
Reluctantly, Lang Ze let go of the rope net and jumped down, landing safely on the ground.
Seeing the wolf cub actually listen to reason, Wei Ming was a little surprised and felt relieved.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round device. Tossing it onto the ground, it transformed into a one-person flying saucer. Stepping onto it, Wei Ming slowly rose into the air.
The younglings, both downstairs and those peering out from upstairs, let out collective exclamations as they watched Wei Ming take to the sky.
“It’s a flying saucer!” Lang Ze exclaimed excitedly, his eyes shining with envy and longing.
Feeling the curious gazes of the younglings, Wei Ming no longer felt the initial fear he had when he first arrived at the nursery. Instead, he felt a sense of childlike delight.
“Yes, it’s a flying saucer.”
He piloted the saucer in a circle midair, even performing a backflip, drawing cheers from the younglings. Lang Ze was so excited that he started bouncing up and down on the spot.
“I want to try it! Uncle Wei, can I play with it too?”
Hearing Lang Ze repeatedly call him “Uncle Wei,” Wei Ming felt incredibly pleased. Who would have thought that he had once believed the rumors that the younglings in the nursery were terrifying monsters?
If he had known how well-behaved and adorable they were, he would have made time to visit them earlier and even play with them.
Back when he was a student, Wei Ming often spent his weekends volunteering at orphanages. Thinking about it now, the children in the nursery were even more unfortunate than those in orphanages.
His sympathy surged, but he still refused firmly. “Minors aren’t allowed to operate flying saucers.”
Seeing Lang Ze’s disappointed expression, he added, “However, if an adult accompanies you, it’s no problem.”
“Wow!”
Hearing this, Lang Ze jumped up in delight. He had been considering whether to offer an ear-scratch in exchange, but Wei Ming agreed without needing any persuasion!
“Uncle Wei, you’re the best!”
Now that his wish was granted, Lang Ze’s sweet words flowed freely, making Wei Ming feel absolutely overjoyed.
Wei Ming descended from the air, bent down slightly, and let Lang Ze climb onto his back. With Lang Ze riding piggyback, he took off into the air, drawing envious gazes from the other younglings.
“I’ll fly closer, and you can pick the fruit.”
“Got it!”
Under Wei Ming’s guidance, Lang Ze picked the ripe Star-chain Fruit one by one and tossed them down to Rong Heng and Li Hua.
Li Hua was a little slower, but her brother was quick and agile, catching every fruit Lang Ze threw with precision.
“We want to help too!”
Ran Lie, Lu Jiao, and a few others, who had been watching from their rooms, ran out and joined the group. Together, they helped gather the falling fruit, quickly building several small piles on the ground.
Amid the gentle sound of rain, the nursery’s greenhouse was filled with innocent laughter. The younglings took turns catching fruit, fully experiencing the joy of a bountiful harvest.
*
Room 303
A-Yan heard the commotion outside and was about to get up to take a look when he saw the young man sleeping nearby flutter his eyelashes and slowly open his eyes.
“A-Yan?”
The haziness in Su Ci’s eyes faded as he instinctively reached out to place his hand on the boy’s head. Sensing that A-Yan’s body had recovered, Su Ci finally relaxed.
“You’ve recovered?” Su Ci asked.
A-Yan nodded with a bright smile, clearly pleased by Su Ci’s concern.
“Mm. I absorbed the book spirit’s rule power,” he said, speaking through the communicator.
Su Ci pressed his lips together, his eyes fixed on A-Yan, saying nothing.
Under Su Ci’s intense gaze, the smile on A-Yan’s face gradually faded. After a moment of thought, he subtly adjusted the tone of the communicator’s voice and said softly, “Su Su, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong.”
Su Ci’s simmering anger abruptly paused.
The communicator’s synthetic voice… could it actually change tone?
He looked at the boy, whose face now wore a pleading smile. Unable to resist, he raised his hand and flicked A-Yan’s forehead.
A-Yan winced slightly from the pain but didn’t dare to rub his forehead. Instead, he looked at Su Ci with soft, pleading eyes, his big fluffy tail swaying gently behind him. Anyone who saw him like this would find it hard to stay mad at him.
Su Ci felt his resolve wavering. He pressed his lips together, still trying to maintain a stern expression. “What did you do wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have overexerted myself, draining all my strength to use the technique…” A-Yan carefully observed Su Ci’s expression, inching closer without drawing attention. Seeing Su Ci didn’t notice, he boldly leaned against him.
“Su Su, I really know I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”
A-Yan wagged his tail, imitating Lang Ze’s mannerisms as he playfully pleaded with Su Ci.
He noticed that Su Ci responded well to this tactic, so he doubled down, flashing an adorable smile. “I’ll make you something delicious. Please don’t stay mad at me, okay?”
Although Su Ci didn’t want to forgive him so easily, his expression softened involuntarily.
“Your physical condition is already poor. Forcing yourself to perform such powerful techniques could cause irreversible damage,” Su Ci said, frowning.
“Mm, I know. Su Su is only looking out for me. It was my fault,” A-Yan replied, his tone earnest and apologetic.
With A-Yan’s coaxing and his sincere attitude, Su Ci found it difficult to remain angry. “Alright, as long as you know.”
Su Ci was aware that A-Yan wasn’t truly a child. That technique he used had, in some ways, provided a potential solution to their problem.
However, if A-Yan intended to use such techniques in the future, he couldn’t afford to act so recklessly again.
“What exactly is that technique?” Su Ci asked.
A-Yan paused, frowned thoughtfully, and then shook his head. “I don’t really know. It just felt like I could use it that way, so I did.”
Unable to get a clear explanation, Su Ci could only say, “That technique is very powerful. You need to study it carefully.”
To dispel malice of such intensity was far beyond the scope of simple linguistic spells.
Rule-based powers were inherently formidable. If A-Yan could master this technique, his potential for growth would be immeasurable.
A-Yan nodded. He understood the power of the technique but also knew how much rule energy it consumed.
Without the book spirit supplying him energy, he’d probably still be bedridden. That’s why he could only use it in dire circumstances.
What he didn’t tell Su Ci, however, was that during the use of the technique, he had seen a figure.
That figure wore a mask, their body suspended in an illusory space, bound tightly by countless chains…
A-Yan pressed his lips together, then moved closer to Su Ci, wrapping his arms tightly around him.
That person… couldn’t possibly be Su Su, right?
Su Ci didn’t know what A-Yan was thinking and didn’t push him away. Instead, he lazily leaned back against the sofa, his spiritual sense sweeping over the nursery. Soon, he saw the scene of a bountiful harvest in the green space.
“During dinner, give each of them a spiritual fruit,” he said.
Spiritual fruit?
A-Yan blinked. His spiritual sense had also caught what was happening outside, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Have those three Star-chain Fruit trees mutated into spiritual plants?”
“Mm,” Su Ci nodded.
A-Yan found it odd. “Aren’t spiritual plants usually slow-growing?”
For example, the two spiritual pear trees had only grown two leaves so far. So how could the three Star-chain Fruit trees grow so quickly?
“That’s generally the case, but these ones are special,” Su Ci said, his expression turning slightly peculiar. “Their ability is growth.”
A-Yan froze. Did that mean…
“They’ll keep blooming and bearing fruit?”
“Exactly,” Su Ci nodded. “As long as the conditions are favorable and the nutrients are sufficient, they’ll continue growing, blooming, and bearing fruit.”
A-Yan was momentarily stunned. “Does that mean we’ll have an endless supply of Star-chain Fruit in the future?”
This sounded like good news, but Su Ci didn’t seem particularly pleased.
That was because the growth of spiritual plants required a significant amount of nutrients, which would inevitably compete with the other ordinary plants, hindering the recovery of the land.
Harvests weren’t Su Ci’s ultimate goal—reviving the land was.
“Should we remove two of them and keep just one?” Su Ci mused, stroking his chin.
Hearing this, A-Yan quickly objected, “But Star-chain Fruit also has the ability to enrich nutrients, right? After evolving into a spiritual plant, that property should be even stronger.”
That was true… Su Ci nodded thoughtfully.
Otherwise, given the growth speed of these three Star-chain Fruit trees, the other ordinary plants in the green space would have likely died from nutrient deficiency. Yet, there hadn’t been any unusual increase in the fertilizer usage recently.
This realization brought a faint smile to Su Ci’s face.
“If that’s the case, these three Star-chain Fruit trees might not be suitable for the nursery after all,” he said.
Since they could naturally enrich nutrients, solving the biggest supply issue for spiritual plants, and given their defining trait of rapid growth, it made sense to transplant them to the wild.
Although the nutrients they enriched primarily supported their own needs, one couldn’t forget the key characteristic of spiritual plants: they absorbed nutrients and released spiritual energy.
While spiritual energy couldn’t neutralize malice, it could at least dilute its concentration.
For the small life forms like Selaginella and tiny wild grasses, which struggled to survive in dark corners, spiritual energy could make all the difference. They needed it to thrive.
However, the issues to address now weren’t just the land’s infertility but also the lingering malice in the soil.
Aside from the nursery’s land, only the soil near the riverbank had been purified of malice, thanks to the integration of the heroic spirits.
That said, the problem wasn’t insurmountable. With the presence of the spiritual garlic, which secretes substances capable of dispelling malice, the soil quality could potentially be improved.
The only catch was that the garlic was still very small and fragile. It would need time to grow and for the cultivation center to develop enough solutions to support it.
The spiritual garlic had grown in a greenhouse, making it quite delicate. Su Ci wouldn’t dare transplant it directly into problematic soil.
So…
“Let’s start by transplanting one tree.”
The riverbank spanned over a thousand meters, with ample water and healthy soil, making it an ideal environment for the Star-chain Fruit tree to grow.
Still, Su Ci couldn’t help but wonder—if left unchecked, what would these growth-focused Star-chain Fruit trees eventually become?
One thing was certain, though: they would never run out of spiritual fruits to eat.
With that in mind, Su Ci changed his directive. “From now on, give the younglings one Star-chain Fruit with every meal. Eating spiritual fruits regularly will be good for them.”
And if one wasn’t enough, they could have two per meal.
“Got it,” A-Yan replied cheerfully.
That evening, along with their roasted meat, each youngling received a large, vibrant red Star-chain Fruit. With its juicy and plump flesh, the first bite released a burst of sweet, fragrant juice.
The delightful taste, combined with the joy of harvest, left the younglings incredibly satisfied.
They cherished the rare fruit, savoring every bite. Even Lang Ze, who usually wolfed down his meals, ate carefully this time, influenced by his companions’ reverent attitude toward the fruit.
At that moment, none of them could have imagined that in the not-so-distant future, they’d grow so tired of eating Star-chain Fruit every day that they’d want to throw up. 🙂
