Chapter 188
From the outside, the 244h couldn’t compare to Base 26’s latest spaceship. At first glance, it only looked a little less dusty than before.
However, thanks to Su Ci’s refinement and upgrades, its performance had undergone a complete transformation. The integration of the giant spider’s exoskeleton into the ship’s body had boosted its defensive capabilities a hundredfold, far surpassing the latest model from Base 26.
As for other improvements, they went without saying. Even its internal systems had been upgraded with a base intelligence system possessing “subjective initiative,” making it far more agile and computationally powerful than the other ship.
For Xing Xing, who couldn’t see with his eyes, it was the ship’s performance that mattered most.
No matter how good something looked, what use was it?
Disappointed, Xing Xing curled up in the pocket, the small, semi-enclosed space providing him with a sense of security. He didn’t feel an urge to return to the base despite his disappointment in the spaceship.
After all, even if this spaceship wasn’t as great, it could still fly.
And he had never experienced the feeling of flying high in the sky.
Under Yun Zixu’s lead, Lang Ze and Ran Lie boarded the spaceship alongside Li Sinian.
Ran Lie, one of the first cubs to arrive at the nursery, had long forgotten how he got there, let alone what it felt like to ride in a spaceship.
To him, this was likely the first time he would consciously experience space travel.
As his feet stepped onto the floor of the cabin, it felt almost no different from stepping on solid ground.
This massive and seemingly clunky contraption—how exactly did it manage to soar into the sky?
Ran Lie was curious but refrained from asking. He made an effort to maintain a cool demeanor, determined not to show any weakness in front of the outsiders who had looked down on him—Yun Zixu’s team members, in particular, had doubted him.
Lang Ze, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.
The wolf cub bounded onto the ship, eagerly poking around here and there. He approached unfamiliar robots, reaching out to touch them. When he encountered members of Base 26’s crew stationed aboard, he enthusiastically greeted them.
The wolf cub’s lively and active demeanor screamed one thing: friendliness.
Soon, he dashed into the cabin, quickly picking a window seat to sit in.
Yun Zixu followed closely behind, instructing him to fasten his seatbelt properly and reminding him sternly that he couldn’t run around once the ship was airborne.
“Hehe, okay, okay!”
The boy’s sunny and cheerful smile made it hard to dislike him. Yun Zixu couldn’t help but pat Lang Ze on the head. When he reached for his ears, though, the boy dodged away.
Lang Ze, with an indignant look, said, “That costs extra!”
Although he no longer traded ear rubs for chips, letting someone touch his ears casually wasn’t free. If it were Su Su, that’d be fine, but for others? No way.
Yun Zixu was amused by his comment but didn’t push it. Just then, Ran Lie approached with his usual “don’t-come-close” aura, prompting Yun Zixu to awkwardly retract his hand.
“Ran Lie, sit next to the wolf cub,” Yun Zixu suggested, knowing the tiger boy was the key to fighting the monsters and wouldn’t dare neglect him.
Ran Lie let out a small huff but complied, sitting down as instructed.
With that, Yun Zixu exited the cabin.
After he left, the little black kitten in Lang Ze’s pocket poked its head out, its strong mental energy sweeping over the cabin interior.
Li Sinian, seated in the row behind the cubs, could sense Xing Xing’s mental energy but didn’t interfere. He understood that mental energy was the boy’s “eyes,” his way of perceiving the world.
Meanwhile, Li Sinian had opened his communicator’s note-taking function, using the time to study the cultivation manual Su Ci had given him the day before.
Upon delving into the Heart Mantra, Li Si Nian realized he had underestimated it. The manual was written entirely in ancient Chinese script!
Though he had studied ancient Chinese before, reading it was still a challenge, let alone comprehending its profound teachings on cultivation.
Yet, thinking about the progress his son had achieved with this manual, he resolved to push through no matter what.
He couldn’t let it come to the point where he’d have to ask his son for guidance, could he?
As Li Sinian immersed himself in his studies and Lang Ze chattered enthusiastically to Ran Lie, the spaceship began to ascend. The hangar’s dome opened above them.
Lang Ze fell silent, pressing his face to the window as he gazed outside.
As the ship climbed higher, Ran Lie gradually caught sight of parts of Base 24. From this aerial perspective, the base looked so small…
He was about to leave the only place he’d ever known.
Ran Lie clenched his fists and exhaled slowly.
It’s fine, he thought. We’ll be back in a week. No way I’ll lose out to Lang Ze and Xing Xing.
When he tried to take in a few more glimpses, Base 24 quickly disappeared into the thick red clouds overhead, leaving only faint outlines. Soon, even those were gone.
Ran Lie, disheartened, withdrew his gaze, but Lang Ze remained glued to the window, prompting Ran Lie to glance out again.
But apart from the swirling red clouds, there wasn’t much else to see. Ran Lie closed his eyes and began meditating.
After the ship had cruised smoothly for some time, Yun Zixu returned to the cabin with Song Zehe and two other companions.
As they entered, they saw Lang Ze still glued to the window, a small black kitten perched on the windowsill beside him.
Lang Ze was animatedly chatting, and the kitten occasionally responded with a sound or two. The scene was unexpectedly harmonious.
As they entered, the little kitten quickly jumped down from the windowsill and disappeared back into the boy’s pocket in the blink of an eye.
Yun Zixu led his team to the seats on the other side of the cabin and announced, “We’re flying at full speed toward Base 26. Barring any incidents, we should arrive in about two hours.”
Hearing this, Ran Lie nodded silently.
“Two hours isn’t too far,” he thought.
Lang Ze, however, exclaimed twice and then began asking questions. “Uncle Yun, where are we staying when we get to Base 26?”
“Your accommodations have already been arranged,” Yun Zixu replied.
“And what do you eat every day? Is it just nutrient fluids and that mushy meat stuff, or is there anything else?” Lang Ze asked, clearly worried about his meals for the next week.
Yun Zixu’s mouth twitched slightly before he forced a smile. “Don’t worry. We won’t let you go hungry.”
Base 26 had better conditions than Base 24, primarily because it wasn’t burdened by money-guzzling facilities like the orphanage and research institute. Its finances were relatively more stable.
However, seeing how things had improved at Base 24 since the introduction of the mutated garlic, Yun Zixu thought its environment would gradually get better as well.
While Yun Zixu and Lang Ze chatted, Li Sinian suddenly snapped out of his study, recalling what Su Ci had instructed him to do before departure.
It was the condition for obtaining the cultivation manual, and also the first step toward transforming this desolate planet for the sake of his son.
Li Sinian extended his hand, and with a thought, a small pouch appeared in his palm. It resembled the one Su Ci had handed Yun Zixu earlier, but its contents were entirely different.
Closing his eyes, Li Sinian activated his telekinetic abilities, causing the pouch to vanish from his grasp.
When it reappeared, it was outside the spaceship.
Guided by his control, the pouch opened, releasing countless tiny grass seeds that were almost invisible to the naked eye. These seeds scattered into the air, carried away by the airflow and wind to destinations unknown.
The pouch didn’t stay in one place but maintained a constant distance from the spaceship, moving along with it while continuously dispensing seeds.
The seeds seemed inexhaustible, far exceeding the physical capacity of the pouch to hold.
As they scattered, the seeds were caught in the turbulent currents of air and blood mist. The mist, heavy with malevolent energy, seemed to resist the life force exuding from the seeds, tearing at them as if to snuff out their vitality.
The seeds, small and fragile, seemed utterly powerless against the overwhelming malice. Could they even survive such harsh conditions?
Even if they landed on the surface intact, was there any soil on this desolate planet capable of nurturing their growth?
Li Sinian couldn’t guess Su Ci’s intentions behind this task. Without the necessary expertise in ecological restoration, he doubted whether this crude method could truly work.
Still, his military training had instilled in him a straightforward ethos: once you accept a mission, you don’t question it. You simply execute it with unwavering determination.
What Li Sinian didn’t realize was that if the spaceship had been flying slower, giving him more time to observe, he would have seen the miraculous power hidden within those seemingly fragile seeds.
The moment the first seed touched the moisture-laden warmth of the mist, its outer shell cracked open.
Tiny roots emerged, and tender blades of grass began to grow. As this process unfolded, the seed released a vibrant burst of life energy.
This energy immediately attracted denser waves of malevolent mist, which surged toward it like a ravenous beast.
Yet, this time, the oppressive mist could no longer harm the seed.
It was no longer the feeble wild grass struggling to survive in the cracks of barren land—it had transformed.
Its descendants—the continuation of its life—now possessed the power to stand against the overwhelming malevolent energy!
These malevolent forces became the essential nutrients for the little grasses to grow. As the first blade of spiritual grass thrived amidst the malevolence, more and more seeds began to break open.
The tearing winds that shredded at their leaves could not halt their growth.
They continuously absorbed the malevolent energy, transforming it into the vital energy needed for their survival, while faintly releasing spiritual energy. With unwavering resolve, they contributed, however humbly, to the land that nurtured them.
When the first blade of grass finally overcame the countless trials of the high-altitude winds and landed on the barren wasteland, its body was battered and scarred.
Yet, upon touching the ground, its roots immediately reached deep into the soil, desperately trying to take hold.
As more and more blades of grass fell to the earth, each struggled to survive and to live on.
These little grasses, resilient and unyielding, bore no resemblance to the delicate spiritual plants they might have been mistaken for. No matter how harsh the environment, nothing seemed capable of breaking their will to live.
“Drip—”
“Drip—”
In lands parched for over a century, a fine drizzle began to fall unexpectedly. The raindrops nourished the soil and brought a glimmer of hope to the small grasses scattered across the wasteland.
The grasses absorbed the water and began to grow freely.
Countless malevolent spirits were drawn to the area, along with startled monsters. Some grasses might be destroyed, but even more would take root.
They used the malevolence as nourishment and the rain as their source of life. They wouldn’t bloom into beautiful flowers or bear delicious fruits, but they would bring the green back to the barren land!
All of this was beyond Li Sinian’s knowledge.
He simply carried out his task with meticulous diligence, scattering the grass seeds while guiding the pouch through the air alongside the ship, expending all his strength in the process.
Fortunately, before his spiritual and telekinetic energy were completely depleted, the pouch was finally emptied of its seeds!
Just before exhaustion overtook him, Li Sinian retrieved the pouch into the ship and held it tightly in his hand.
The storage pouch, though able to hold far fewer items than a spatial button, had a distinct advantage—it could store living beings! This single feature far surpassed the spatial button in utility.
If his mistake had resulted in the loss of the storage pouch, Li Sinian would have regretted it for the rest of his life. Confirming its safety, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Still, the thought that every child in the nursery possessed one, and that Caretaker Su seemed to have plenty more, left a complicated feeling in his heart.
After all, if these pouches could be mass-produced, they could revolutionize the battlefield in ways unimaginable. And yet, the caretaker appeared indifferent, as if these pouches were as common as stones, casually handing one over just for the purpose of scattering grass seeds.
Shaking his head, Li Sinian carefully stored the pouch and closed his eyes to recover some spiritual energy. Unfortunately, by the time the ship reached the skies above Base 26 and began descending, his energy had barely recovered.
Still, he thought optimistically, Surely, we won’t be unlucky enough to run into monsters immediately, right? But unease gnawed at him.
Covered in blood mist, Base 26 had poor visibility. Only the vague outlines of its structures were discernible, but from the scale and range, it was evident that the base was much larger than Base 24.
Instead of landing on the outer tarmac, the ship hovered momentarily in the air before continuing toward the base’s interior landing zone.
This ship carried not only the young ones and Li Sinian but also a mutated garlic plant—a highly precious resource.
Under no circumstances could anything happen to it.
From the moment they approached Base 26, Lang Ze had pressed himself against the window again, staring wide-eyed at the scene below. Suddenly, he pointed outside and asked, “What’s that?”
Before anyone could answer—
BOOM! BOOM!
Two explosions erupted, accompanied by the sharp wail of alarm sirens. The fiery blasts pierced through the red mist, bathing everything in an atmosphere of tension and chaos.
Amid the flames, figures moved in a frenzy below.
What they were surrounding was a giant monster emerging from the mist. Towering at 30 to 40 meters, its body was covered in grotesque pustules of varying sizes, oozing viscous, corrosive fluid.
The liquid dripped onto the ground, sizzling as it burned through the surface, leaving pits and craters behind.
“It’s a mucus colossus!” exclaimed Song Zehe, his voice trembling.
Yun Zixu’s face turned grim. Without needing an order, the ship began an emergency ascent. However, by this time, it was already too late.
