Chapter 36
When the child leaned closer, Su Ci lazily opened his eyes a crack.
Sensing the boy’s approach, he didn’t push him away. Instead, he allowed it and closed his eyes again, using the light nap to recover his soul energy.
With his eyes shut, the lighting in the bus cabin seemed to soften, as if drawn into his calm demeanor.
Gradually, more passengers boarded the bus.
When they glanced at the tranquil and beautiful scene in the middle of the cabin, most couldn’t help but stare in a daze. After the initial amazement, however, they were quickly struck by the audacity of the handsome youth.
Yesterday, the blood rain had descended, and monsters from the red mist had invaded the base, damaging the logistics building and attacking the repair team leader who was taking refuge in the first-floor lobby. The news had already spread across Base 24.
Now, fear gripped the base. Unless absolutely necessary, no one was venturing outside.
Even those who had to leave were heavily armed, on high alert for extreme weather or potential monsters, skittish as startled birds.
And yet, here was this young man, sitting on a hover-bus that had already witnessed an incident the day before, seemingly able to sleep soundly. Not only that—he appeared to be sleeping quite well!
As they took a closer look at his uniform’s color, realization dawned on the passengers.
Oh, so it’s that new caretaker!
The story of the repair worker almost being taken by a giant spider had spread alongside tales of the new caretaker’s extraordinary performance during the ordeal.
There were plenty of people with access to the surveillance footage from the logistics building. Everyone who had watched the video couldn’t help but marvel at the caretaker’s composure under pressure.
What made it even more striking was the comparison to Luo Shengfei, who had been sobbing uncontrollably in the same footage. The caretaker’s calmness stood in stark contrast, highlighting his extraordinary steadiness.
How could someone remain so composed in the face of such danger? He looked so slender and delicate—shouldn’t he have been trembling, his legs giving out beneath him?
Though some suspected that the caretaker had simply frozen in shock or lacked the common sense to panic, it didn’t stop them from admiring his courage.
This sentiment was especially strong among the warriors who had to face monsters themselves. They understood better than anyone how hard it was to maintain calm in the presence of such overwhelming threats.
Of course, they would have preferred if their officers hadn’t used the caretaker as a comparison during reprimands…
Yes, during today’s routine training and battle debriefs, every officer had brought up the caretaker’s example to admonish soldiers who couldn’t stay composed under pressure—especially those who had made mistakes out of fear during yesterday’s battle. These soldiers were scolded harshly.
At first, some soldiers were unconvinced, thinking the officers were exaggerating. Then someone—no one knew who—shared a short clip of the footage.
Thus began Luo Shengfei’s endless cycle of social death, while Su Ci, the new caretaker, became a name everyone at the base remembered.
The video even spread to other bases, becoming a favorite training material for officers.
Base 26, in particular, went a step further. Some officers recorded their reprimands and made new recruits store the footage in their communication devices, requiring them to watch it three times daily as a lesson in humility.
“Even a caretaker can stay calm and composed during a crisis. And you, a bunch of spineless cowards, dare call yourselves military academy elites?”
“Do you think the prison star is a vacation spot? Next time you screw up, it’ll cost you your life! If you can’t even compare to a caretaker, you’d better pack up and go home to babysit!”
Eventually, this recording made its way back to Base 24. It wasn’t just the guards and operatives sharing it—employees from other departments saw it too.
On the prison star, entertainment was scarce, which fostered a naturally gossip-prone atmosphere.
Although it seemed like no one paid much attention to Su Ci after his arrival, many people had already gathered detailed information about him. They knew that this new caretaker had been recruited through a special program with lowered entry requirements.
The surveillance footage further highlighted this fact. Compared to Luo Shengfei, Su Ci’s slim and delicate frame was starkly apparent—almost laughably so.
This only made the composure he displayed during the crisis more impactful, leaving the soldiers with no room for rebuttal.
After all, standing right beside him had been a tall and burly Luo Shengfei, sobbing uncontrollably.
Now, the passengers aboard the hover-bus had the privilege of witnessing Su Ci’s unshakable calm firsthand.
No one dared to disturb him, but many quietly took out their communicators to share the encounter in their group chats. Some even suggested to their department heads whether this legendary caretaker could be poached to join their team.
After all, no caretaker at the nursery ever stayed longer than a month.
*
When Su Ci arrived at the plantation and had just helped A-Yan off the bus, his communicator chimed.
Song Zehe: (Thumb up) (Thump up)
Su Ci: ?
Song Zehe: Bro, you’re amazing! How do you manage not to feel even a bit scared in front of a giant spider?
Su Ci tilted his head in thought. Why would he be scared?
If he returned to his original form, that tiny spider wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gap between his teeth.
He replied with a simple, Not too bad, before turning his attention to the plantation ahead.
The entire plantation was encased in sturdy metal. There were no windows, and the main gate was a seamless, airtight metallic door. Without the three words Plantation engraved above it, Su Ci wouldn’t have even known where the entrance was.
He strolled forward, A Yan following closely at his side.
They stopped in front of the plantation’s gate.
A-Yan obediently stood next to Su Ci, but as he lowered his gaze, he noticed Su Ci’s shadow on the ground.
Clad in his little cub shoes, A-Yan’s feet subtly shuffled into the shadow until he was entirely within it—pretending it was his own shadow, overlapping perfectly with Su Ci’s.
His face remained serious, but the slight upward curve at the corners of his mouth betrayed his playful mood.
Su Ci ignored A-Yan’s little game. Standing at the entrance, he waited. Soon, a hover vehicle approached from the distance, stopping nearby.
The cabin doors opened automatically, and a line of cargo robots began unloading supplies destined for the plantation.
*
“Xiao Song, are the water sample results ready?” Wu Yunqin asked anxiously as she entered the lab.
Zhuang Shisong nodded. “They just came in. Take a look.”
Taking the test results handed to her, Wu Yunqin flipped through the pages rapidly. Her expression brightened with each line. “The pollutant levels in these samples are this low?”
“Yes,” Zhuang Shisong confirmed.
Zhuang Shisong’s voice carried a hint of incredulity. “It’s likely that some of the pollutants in these samples were reintroduced during the collection and testing process.”
The air on the prison star was laden with pollutants. Unless a purifier was constantly working to cleanse the environment, it was inevitable for equipment to become contaminated.
This meant that the original pollutant levels in the water samples might actually be even lower than the test results indicated!
Yesterday’s blood rain should have, based on past experiences, significantly increased the concentration of pollutants in groundwater. Yet now, it seemed as though the water had been purified instead.
Wu Yunqin nodded. “You’re right. Something we don’t understand must have happened during the blood rain. We need to figure out the cause of this change immediately.”
Setting the report aside, she added, “Contact the repair team right away. Ask them to help collect groundwater samples from the underground tunnels for testing.”
“I’ll get in touch with the plantation managers at Bases 21 and 26 to see if they’ve noticed any changes in their water quality.”
“Understood!” Zhuang Shisong immediately sprang into action. But just as he prepared to contact the repair team, his communicator buzzed.
Glancing at the screen, he said, “It’s the logistics department delivering supplies. Dr. Wu, I’ll go with Wei Ming to receive and store the materials.”
“Go ahead,” Wu Yunqin replied.
Zhuang Shisong left the lab and called another assistant researcher, Wei Ming, to join him. Together, they drove toward the plantation’s entrance to receive the delivery. However, as they passed by one of the greenhouses, their vehicle slowed and eventually came to a stop.
Inside the greenhouse, everything from lighting to airflow and oxygen levels was meticulously controlled to simulate natural conditions. Even in this completely enclosed, soil-free cultivation environment, plants were provided with the best possible growing conditions.
Of course, these measures could only reduce the amount of airborne pollutants; they couldn’t completely eliminate them.
The greenhouses were made of transparent glass, allowing the plantation staff to easily monitor plant growth. What caused Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming to stop, however, was the sight before them—
Every plant inside the greenhouse was lush and vibrant, with a verdant green hue that was almost dazzling. Their thriving state radiated an uplifting energy, completely erasing any memory of their prior droopiness.
Zhuang Shisong, who was intimately familiar with every greenhouse’s contents, couldn’t resist getting out of the vehicle to inspect them. Wei Ming followed suit, and together they stepped inside to investigate.
After a quick look, the two exchanged a glance and silently agreed to check the other greenhouses.
To their astonishment, they found that all the crops across the greenhouses were growing better than usual! Interestingly, the closer a greenhouse was to the plantation entrance, the more vigorous the plants appeared.
They pulled up data from the greenhouses nearest to and farthest from the entrance, and the disparity was striking. Crops in the closest greenhouse outperformed those in the farthest one across every metric!
Even the plant heights were noticeably different, with the nearest crops standing one to two centimeters taller.
What on earth was going on?
“Have the water in the cultivation containers been replaced?” Zhuang Shisong asked Wei Ming.
Wei Ming shook his head. “After noticing the anomaly in the water quality, Dr. Wu halted all water replacement.”
Hearing this, Zhuang Shisong frowned.
If all the water had been replaced, the unusual growth could have been attributed to the water quality. But now, even greenhouses that hadn’t had their water changed were exhibiting significant changes, which defied explanation.
What other reason could there be besides the water?
The two exchanged puzzled looks, momentarily at a loss. Just then, Zhuang Shisong’s communicator buzzed again.
“Let’s go finish receiving the supplies first,” Zhuang Shisong said.
“Got it,” Wei Ming agreed.
The distance was short, so instead of driving, the two began walking toward the plantation entrance.
However, before they reached the entrance, Zhuang Shisong suddenly stopped in his tracks. A step behind him, Wei Ming also halted, following his gaze.
There, outside the greenhouse nearest to the entrance, stood an unfamiliar figure.
It was a slender, pale young man in a gray-blue work uniform. In the bright light of the plantation, his almost luminous white skin drew all attention to him.
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he leaned lazily outside the greenhouse, gazing through the glass walls at the plants inside.
And within the greenhouse, the plants looked as though they’d gone wild!
In the few minutes since the two had last been there, the vegetation had not only visibly grown denser, but some plants had even begun flowering and bearing fruit.
Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming were too stunned to speak. Yet, what happened next shocked them even further.
In their haste to leave earlier, they hadn’t checked whether the greenhouse door was properly closed. Now, the nearest star-chain vines to the door were still growing wildly.
Under their disbelieving eyes, a few of the vines forced their way through the gap in the door, rapidly spreading across the entire glass wall of the greenhouse.
This kind of phenomenon could only mean one thing: the plants inside the greenhouse had mutated!
“Danger! Get away from there!” Zhuang Shisong shouted as he saw the vines creeping closer to where the slender young man was standing.
But it was already too late.
As he called out, the entire glass wall became enveloped by the flexible, rapidly expanding star-chain vines. The vines climbed up nearby streetlights and utility lines, weaving a green net over the pathway.
Amidst the dense and overlapping foliage, clusters of pale yellow flowers resembling tiny stars began blooming in quick succession.
Standing next to Su Ci, A-Yan tilted his head back to marvel at the blossoming spectacle above, his mouth slightly agape. It was the first time he’d ever seen such a stunning sight, and he suddenly understood why Number Five loved flowers so much.
Yet his gaze inevitably returned to Su Ci.
Even amidst this floral wonderland, A-Yan still thought—
The caretaker was the most beautiful of all.
While A-Yan stood dazed, the flowers quickly shed their petals. Round, green fruits emerged from the vines, growing larger and heavier until they dangled and swayed gently in mid-air.
What was even more astonishing was that the best, largest cluster of fruit happened to dangle directly in front of Su Ci. The deep green, unripe fruits ripened in the blink of an eye, turning a vivid, tempting red. It was clear at a glance that they were perfectly ripe.
The sweet aroma of ripe fruit wafted through the pathway, and only then did the plants’ rampant growth come to a halt.
Silence returned.
Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming stood frozen, staring in speechless awe.
The young man standing casually outside the greenhouse, contrary to their expectations, had not been attacked. As the frenzy subsided, he leaned forward slightly, his gaze curious as it settled on the bright red star-chain fruit in front of him.
The fruit dangled temptingly, vivid and glossy, swaying gently in mid-air as if beckoning the young man to pluck it.
And pluck it he did.
Reaching out, his pale, slender fingers gently pinched one of the fruits and detached it with ease.
As he did so, the leaves connected to the vines trembled ever so slightly, and the sound of rustling filled the air. The scene gave the impression that the vast network of vines covering the walls and weaving across the walkway were rejoicing, as though celebrating his touch.
Zhuang Shisong stared dumbfounded at the sight.
He knew this must be a coincidence—there was no scientific basis for such thoughts—but his mind couldn’t help but conjure a singular notion:
Perhaps the plants had grown wildly, all for the sake of greeting the youth outside, offering him this humble fruit as a gift.
