Chapter 37
A-Yan tilted his head back, gazing at the fruit-laden vines above.
He had thought the sky full of blossoms was the peak of beauty, but this surpassed even that.
This was his first time seeing the plantation’s plants grow so rapidly and so well. The star-chain fruits, round and large—bigger than he could hold in one hand—were something he’d never encountered before.
Previously, the fruits in the plantation had been small, with a greenish-yellow hue and wrinkled skins. They were nothing like these vibrant red, fragrant, and plump fruits.
How magical!
Even though the plants couldn’t speak, A-Yan could sense a kind of joy radiating from the lush vines.
Especially when the caretaker reached out and plucked a fruit.
Were the plants welcoming the caretaker? Did they, like A-Yan, adore him that much?
His gaze turned toward the fullest cluster of fruits. Though red symbolized misfortune on the prison star, the sight didn’t make him feel uneasy. Instead, it filled him with a sense of happiness, delight, and contentment.
Rising onto his tiptoes, A-Yan stretched out a small hand, wanting to touch one of the glossy fruits and feel its smooth surface.
But just as his fingertips were about to brush against a fruit, the scene changed dramatically—
The star-chain vines that had covered the glass walls in vibrant green suddenly began to wither. Starting from the leaves, they turned yellow and brittle, falling away like flakes of ash. The vines themselves followed, decaying at the same frenzied pace they had grown, collapsing into dry, lifeless remnants.
In less than a minute or two, the verdant display transformed into a desolate tangle of dead vines. Only the clusters of bright red fruits remained. No longer supported by the weakened vines, they fell to the ground one by one with soft, hollow thuds.
Startled, A-Yan retracted his hand, staring in confusion and dismay at the unfolding scene. As the fruits continued to drop, he instinctively stepped back until his small frame bumped into something solid.
Looking up, he met a pair of warm, dark eyes.
Su Ci gazed down at the child’s obvious distress and sorrow. Reaching out, he gently ruffled the soft hair atop A-Yan’s head, then extended the fruit he had picked moments before.
Dazed, A-Yan accepted the red fruit with both hands. His gaze flicked back up to Su Ci.
The youth’s expression remained as calm and nonchalant as ever. Yet, his composure had a soothing effect on A-Yan, easing his turmoil.
Lowering his head, A-Yan examined the fruit in his hands.
This was the first time he had touched a fruit.
It was heavy, smooth to the touch, and its vivid red hue didn’t evoke fear but rather a sense of vitality. He felt an inexplicable urge to take a bite.
Leaning closer, he hesitated to actually eat it. Instead, he let his nose brush against the skin, savoring its sweet fragrance. Even that was enough to lift his spirits immensely.
Su Ci watched him closely, about to say something when the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted him.
Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming had arrived, rushing over.
Their hurried footsteps mirrored the erratic pounding of their hearts.
“Are you okay?” Wei Ming was the first to speak, scrutinizing Su Ci with a sharp tone. “That was dangerous! Why didn’t you move when we shouted? And you just grabbed the fruit bare-handed without any precautions—are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Su Ci stood upright, gazing at him with an expression of innocent bewilderment.
Zhuang Shisong tugged at Wei Ming’s sleeve, reminding him that Su Ci was unharmed. Wei Ming exhaled deeply, trying to suppress his frustration, but he ultimately failed to hold it back.
“This time, you were lucky. The mutation wasn’t aggressive. But who’s to say that’ll be the case next time? What you did just now blatantly violates base regulations!”
After finishing his tirade to Zhuang Shisong, Wei Ming turned his glare toward Su Ci. “You’re not part of the plantation staff. How did you even get in here?”
Apparently, they hadn’t seen the earlier moment when Su Ci handed the fruit to A-Yan. From their perspective, it looked as if Su Ci had simply tossed the fruit onto the ground.
Hearing Wei Ming’s question, Su Ci didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the entrance.
A cargo robot was unloading supplies onto the nearest open space inside the plantation. Noticing the commotion, a burly man in an orange-red uniform began running over.
“Shisong, Wei Ming, what’s going on?” the man called out as he approached.
This was a logistics worker responsible for delivering supplies. He had contacted Zhuang Shisong earlier, and when there was a delay, Zhuang had given him access to unload the goods first.
It was during that window that Su Ci had walked in through the open gate.
As the man got closer and saw the greenhouse, he let out an audible gasp of surprise. Quickly pulling out his communicator, he began snapping photos, focusing on the fruit.
“Wei Ming, is this a new variety from the plantation? These look amazing! Even though the vines have withered, the quality of the fruit is incredible—it’s way better than any star-chain fruit I’ve ever had back home!”
“Can I have one? I’ll trade my points for it. Name your price!”
The plantation primarily supplied fresh produce for the warriors, but staff from other departments were allowed fresh vegetables once every three days.
However, he had never seen fruit of this caliber before. Was this some special provision for the operations division?
His eyes brimmed with envy and pleading as he clung to Wei Ming’s sleeve, resorting to exaggerated antics. Wei Ming, flustered and overwhelmed, quickly surrendered with a sigh of defeat.
This unexpected interjection disrupted the tension, and Zhuang Shisong’s earlier suspicions of Su Ci began to wane.
He glanced at the slender young man, now watching the scene with a faintly amused expression. Silently, Zhuang shook his head. He realized he had overthought things—how could the strange plant behavior be connected to this unassuming figure?
Even he, someone who worked closely with crops every day, felt an irresistible urge to pluck one of those perfect fruits. It was only natural for someone unfamiliar with the plantation to do the same, especially someone who rarely had access to fresh produce.
And then, Zhuang finally noticed the color of Su Ci’s uniform. His eyes lit up as he exclaimed, “You’re Su Ci? The new caretaker at the nursery?”
Su Ci raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Do we know each other?”
Zhuang Shisong: “…”
No, they didn’t know each other. But by now, practically everyone at the base knew of him. Even at other bases, his name had likely spread.
If this really was the infamous new caretaker, it would explain why he had remained so calm during the bizarre plant outburst. After all, this was the same person who had stood unshaken in the face of invading monsters.
Zhuang Shisong had seen the video. If Su Ci could maintain his composure against such formidable threats, what were a few mutant plants in comparison?
Of course, Su Ci’s luck had also played a role. If the mutated plant had been of an aggressive variety, the situation could have been drastically worse.
“My colleague was right earlier,” Zhuang said gravely, ignoring the question of whether they were acquainted. “In the future, when you encounter situations like this, you must follow the base’s safety manual guidelines.”
No matter how bold someone might be, they needed a clear understanding of their own limits. This was a hard-earned lesson Zhuang had learned through direct encounters with mutant species on the Prison Star.
The reason Su Ci hadn’t been attacked by the giant spider was that it hunted using sound detection. But what if he encountered a different type of monster? Staying still and not fleeing in the face of danger would eventually lead to trouble!
Su Ci nodded to show he understood and thanked Zhuang Shisong for his concern.
Meanwhile, Wei Ming had summoned a robot to assist in salvaging the fruit, enlisting the help of the logistics worker. Together, they worked to catch the fruits before they hit the ground.
Seeing their urgent efforts, Zhuang Shisong set aside his earlier concerns and joined the harvest as well.
These fruits were visually exceptional. Whether they were safe to eat or posed any danger would require testing, but collecting and preserving them first was the right call.
Su Ci watched the flurry of activity and then glanced at the scattered fruits on the ground. With a small sigh, he bent down and began picking them up one by one, placing them into the collection baskets.
He wasn’t familiar with this plant. Just now… he hadn’t even used any spiritual arts.
These were ordinary plants born from the planet. Yet, upon sensing the presence of the earth Spirit that had given them life, they had poured all their strength into presenting him with this offering.
Compared to spiritual plants, ordinary plants had far weaker foundations and much shorter lifespans.
Producing fruit once could exhaust all their vitality. In such a harsh environment, growing away from soil and deprived of nutrients, they had strained themselves to grow so quickly.
Yet, they still chose to do so.
Silly, naïve, and stubborn. Even after 100,000 years and a trip to another planet, their nature hadn’t changed.
It was frustrating, yet strangely… it tugged at Su Ci’s heart.
He had seen countless cycles of life and death. Such things shouldn’t affect him anymore. But looking at the withered vines and the ground strewn with bright red fruit, he felt a flicker of emotion at their pure, selfless dedication.
With the combined efforts of the group and the harvest robots, all the fruits were soon collected, even the ones that had fallen and been damaged. These were carefully packed for testing.
As they worked, the greenhouse door was securely closed again, and two robots were stationed outside to guard it.
Although the greenhouse’s primary material was glass, this wasn’t ordinary glass. It was stronger than metal, and so far, no mutant plant had managed to break through its walls.
The security department had also been notified, and guards were already on their way.
Once the fruits were collected, Zhuang Shisong immediately sent a robot into the greenhouse to investigate. By the time the guards arrived, the robot had completed a preliminary safety check, sparing the guards from entering immediately.
When the robot confirmed the interior was safe, Wei Ming prepared to enter the greenhouse with the guards for a closer inspection. He donned protective gear while Su Ci’s contact, Gu Qingchen, finally arrived, fashionably late.
Seeing the scene, Gu Qingchen couldn’t hide his surprise.
“What happened here? Another plant mutation? No one was hurt, right?”
Zhuang Shisong, who was a friend of Gu Qingchen, had called him over to handle some diseased plants requiring purification. Gu Qingchen, with his passion for agriculture, had eagerly accepted.
After a brief explanation of the situation, Gu Qingchen’s curiosity was piqued. He began to examine the surroundings with interest.
“Mutated star-chain fruit? Its mutation seems to involve rapid growth, and it even influences nearby plants?” Gu Qingchen observed as Wei Ming stepped into the greenhouse. He couldn’t help analyzing the phenomenon with Zhuang Shisong.
Zhuang Shisong nodded. “Judging by the earlier behavior, that’s likely the case.”
Standing nearby, Su Ci listened to their discussion in silence.
The “mutated plants” they were referring to must be either spiritual plants or demonic plants. Given the harsh conditions on the prison star, the probability of producing demonic plants was undoubtedly higher.
Demonic plants, as their name suggests, were notoriously difficult to deal with. Highly aggressive and often extremely toxic, they posed a mortal danger to ordinary humans—just inhaling their scent could be fatal.
However, some human alchemists used demonic plants in pharmaceuticals, where their potent properties could work wonders against certain diseases.
As for spiritual plants, they were much more gentle and friendly in nature. They rarely attacked living beings proactively, had significant medicinal and nutritional value, and—most importantly—could channel spiritual energy back into the soil.
The more spiritual plants in a location, the more abundant its spiritual energy became.
Yet, this greenhouse that Zhuang Shisong and the others were so cautiously investigating was filled with nothing but ordinary plants. Though…
Su Ci raised his eyes, gazing into the distance.
He could sense the presence of a budding spiritual plant in that direction, recently born after he had purified the water. The little thing was calling out to him incessantly, its voice filled with urgency.
A-Yan heard it too.
The soft, immature cooing sound echoed distinctly through the quiet plantation, making it impossible to ignore.
The resonance was very similar to what the spirit seeds emitted but was much clearer and more pronounced.
Was that a talking plant? A-Yan tilted his head curiously, straining to listen. He couldn’t quite make out the meaning of its cries, though the emotions of urgency and yearning were unmistakable.
It didn’t seem like the plant was hungry—it felt more like a call for closeness, a plea for someone to approach it.
A-Yan instinctively looked up at the caretaker.
The plantation had never had talking plants before. Was it the caretaker’s arrival that had brought this one into existence?
Was the plant calling out to the caretaker?
The caretaker had likely already noticed the plant, as A-Yan saw him also looking in the same direction.
However, the caretaker showed no other reaction. After a moment, he coldly averted his gaze and returned his attention to Dr. Gu and the others.
Seeing this, A-Yan didn’t pay the sound much more mind either. He stayed quietly by the caretaker’s side, shifting his focus to the star-chain fruit in his hands.
His hands were so small—if he accidentally dropped the fruit, it would be a disaster.
He thought of the other fruits that had fallen to the ground earlier, many of which had been smashed to a pulp. The idea of the fruit entrusted to him meeting the same fate was unbearable to A-Yan. He clutched it carefully, vowing to protect it.
A-Yan carefully tucked the red fruit into the pocket of his oversized cub uniform. The garment was already loose and roomy, so hiding the large, round star-chain fruit didn’t seem out of place at all.
Su Ci, who had been about to block out the incessant calls of the spiritual plant, caught sight of A-Yan’s small, furtive actions.
When he noticed how the boy’s belly now bulged from the hidden fruit, a faint, unnoticed smile tugged at the corners of Su Ci’s lips.
“Yeeyah! Yeeyah!”
The urgent cries of the tiny spiritual plant continued, yet Su Ci no longer found them overly noisy.
Even so, he didn’t change his decision.
There were still two unsprouted spirit seeds at the nursery. Spiritual plants required a tremendous amount of nutrients to grow, far more than he could currently afford to provide. It would be better to leave this newly born spiritual plant in the care of the plantation.
After all, both Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming seemed genuinely passionate about plants. They would take good care of it.
Moreover, given the attributes the little spiritual plant had displayed so far, it might even help the plantation’s crops grow more robustly.
Su Ci was well aware of his own limitations. Restoring the prison star’s environment to its former state and rejuvenating the land couldn’t be achieved through his efforts alone. He needed allies.
Perhaps the people at the plantation could be a good starting point. In his impression, the human race had always been adept at tending to the land.
Their ability to cultivate greenery under the harsh conditions of the prison star spoke volumes about their capabilities.
As for how to turn these humans into his allies… Su Ci decided he needed to give it more thought.
Before long, Wei Ming and the guards completed their exploration of the greenhouse. During the entire process, they encountered no unexpected incidents or attacks from mutated plants.
This greenhouse was dedicated to cultivating star-chain fruits. The plant’s leaves were shaped like five-pointed stars, and as a climbing vine, it resembled chains stringing together clusters of stars, hence its name.
The star-chain fruit’s flowers were also five-pointed stars, pale yellow with stamens tinged in shades of pink and orange. When the fruit ripened, it turned a deep, vibrant red, exuding a sweet fragrance and boasting high nutritional value.
After the rampant growth earlier, the greenhouse was now in shambles.
The robust roots of the plants had completely pierced and destroyed the cultivation substrates, while the star-chain vines sprawled across the ceiling, forming a near-seamless canopy.
However, only three vines near the entrance—those that had extended outward—had flowered and borne fruit. These three vines were now entirely withered, and the roots within their cultivation bases had decayed beyond recovery.
The remaining vines and leaves throughout the greenhouse, though not entirely dead, were clearly wilting and yellowing, a stark contrast to their previous flourishing state.
Despite this, the plants displayed no signs of aggression. Even when Wei Ming cut into some vines and leaves with a knife for closer observation, nothing unusual happened.
They appeared as ordinary plants, utterly unremarkable compared to their earlier explosion of growth.
As Su Ci had noted, the greenhouse housed only normal plants, not the anticipated mutations.
The three vines that had borne fruit were entirely dead, their roots irreparably damaged. According to the machine’s analysis, there was no chance of reviving them.
Faced with these results, both Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming felt dejected, and even Gu Qingchen lamented the loss.
If these three plants had survived and retained their ability to stimulate the growth of surrounding plants, the potential value they could have generated was immense.
At the very least, Base 24’s future fruit and vegetable supply would have been secured!
But with the plants fully dead, even methods like tissue culture were unlikely to work.
When Wu Yunqin, the plantation’s head, arrived in a rush to hear their report and review the footage of the rampant growth, her expression turned to one of disappointment and heartache.
The unexpected hope, followed by its abrupt loss, was a heavy blow to the plantation manager.
Standing nearby, A-Yan observed the humans’ dejection and then glanced at the caretaker.
He didn’t think the plants had gone wild because of a mutation. To him, they had seemed happy simply because they had seen the caretaker.
If he were a plant, he too would bloom and bear fruit with joy upon seeing the caretaker.
And he’d make sure to offer the sweetest, most delicious fruit for the caretaker to enjoy!
Su Ci lowered his gaze to A-Yan, sensing the child’s mysterious thoughts. The boy’s bright eyes gleamed with an innocent admiration that Su Ci couldn’t help but find endearing.
As for the others’ disappointment, Su Ci didn’t concern himself with it.
Yes, he could accelerate the growth of these ordinary plants, but he wouldn’t. While the fruits were a gift, the plants had paid the price by withering and decaying.
If these plants had been grown in the soil, they would have quickly drained the land’s energy to fuel their rapid growth. In the current fragile state of the land, such actions would cause more harm than good.
“We can’t just give up!”
Wu Yunqin, however, was unwilling to let go of such an exceptional “mutation.” With a determined expression, she resolved to tackle the challenge head-on.
If conventional methods couldn’t propagate or cultivate the plants, could advanced technology succeed? While prior experiences suggested that the prison star’s mutations defied current scientific exploration and solutions, it was worth trying.
The decisive manager immediately rallied her team of assistants and began conducting comprehensive tests on the greenhouse’s plants. The three withered star-chain vines were also taken away for further analysis.
It was clear that the plantation staff wouldn’t let go of even the slightest chance for success. While the results might not be favorable, their perseverance was admirable.
At least, Su Ci thought so.
As the bustling group departed, only Zhuang Shisong and Wei Ming stayed behind to handle remaining tasks.
When Wei Ming left with the logistics worker to finish receiving supplies, Zhuang Shisong suddenly recalled something. Turning to look for Su Ci, he was surprised to find that the caretaker had vanished without a trace.
“Where’s that caretaker, Su?” Zhuang Shisong asked, turning toward Gu Qingchen.
Gu Qingchen was engrossed in examining the star-chain vines inside the greenhouse. While he couldn’t glean anything particularly insightful from his inspection, it didn’t stop him from enjoying himself.
Looking at the lush green plants alone was enough to lift his spirits. Moreover, star-chain fruits weren’t just highly nutritious and easy to propagate—they were also incredibly ornamental.
The star-shaped leaves were perfect for crafting bookmarks. Of course, on the resource-starved prison star, these vines and leaves would ultimately be repurposed into meals to provide dietary fiber for the warriors.
Hearing Zhuang Shisong’s question, Gu Qingchen recalled Su Ci’s earlier request. He glanced around in search of the trainee caretaker.
But before he could spot him, Zhuang Shisong had already found him.
Su Ci emerged unhurriedly from the greenhouse, entirely unbothered by the “mutated” plants he had just been around. In his hands was a small bundle of withered vines and dead roots.
These were leftovers from the three withered star-chain vines. Despite Wu Yunqin’s efforts to retrieve the plants intact, some scraps had inevitably been left behind.
Su Ci had collected those remnants.
As Zhuang Shisong approached, he heard the young man speak. “The nutrients in the cultivation substrate seem insufficient. It’s best to replenish them.”
Zhuang Shisong blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Understood. Thanks for the reminder.”
However, his gaze lingered on the withered vines in Su Ci’s hands. Hesitating for a moment, he asked gently, “Caretaker Su, what are you planning to do with those?”
Su Ci didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he looked down at the dried vines in his hand and asked, “May I take these with me?”
