Chapter 216 — The Garden
Pouring bag after bag and crate after crate of soil mixed with water and fertilizer into the courtyard, Luo Xun and his team felt immensely grateful that they had stockpiled so much dirt beforehand. It was perfect for this project; otherwise, if they had run short, wouldn’t they have had to scramble downstairs to dig up several new pits’ worth of soil on the spot?
The work of filling the pits was not much more efficient than the excavation itself. It took Luo Xun and the team a full two days of hard labor just to cover the entire open plaza with moist, fertile, fresh soil. During this process, they intentionally shaped a few areas into miniature rolling hills. Right now, they were compressing the surface dirt as firmly as possible so they could soon transfer the fruit trees and berries waiting in the basement up to the surface.
Once this layer of soil was laid out, it created a look vastly different from the original paved ground. Because a complete metal dome connected to the basement enclosed the exterior perimeter, Luo Xun and the others had simply lowered the baseline elevation of this open plaza, leaving just enough depth in the soil for the roots of the trees, flowers, and plants to spread. This way, even if their completed greenhouse didn’t look exceptionally tall from the outside, they wouldn’t have to worry about a lack of clearance preventing the fruit trees inside from growing freely.
Before filling and compacting the soil, Luo Xun and the team released at least over half of their home-bred earthworms across the entire courtyard, letting them slowly reproduce in the garden on their own. Once the soil was firmly packed, they paved paths through the courtyard using the marble slabs, bricks, and cobblestones they had casually salvaged from the property or gathered during their excursions.
With these tasks sorted out, they shifted their focus to the roof once more—they intended to install the roofing as quickly as possible. This included the glass panes, the protective metal shutters, and mounting a portion of their solar panels onto the roof structure. Fluorescent light fixtures also had to be installed along the interior ceiling, lest the greenhouse suffer from insufficient lighting whenever it was overcast or raining.
The group went out a few more times, harvesting a sufficient amount of metal to construct the structural framework of the roof. The open gaps left in the framing were a perfect fit to install the glass windows they had brought back from the glass factory. Naturally, metal shutters would be mounted over the exterior of these windows; if an emergency arose, these protective frames could immediately enclose the entire greenhouse to prevent the massive panes of glass from being shattered.
Furthermore, while Yan Fei was constructing the metal framing and roofing, Luo Xun and the team used their remaining paint to sketch and paint patterns across the metal sheets, creating highly convincing camouflage patterns that would cause anyone scanning satellite photos to completely overlook the structure.
This work was incredibly time-consuming. Luo Xun split his forces into two groups: one dedicated exclusively to painting the patterns onto the metal sheets, while the other began systematically transplanting the various fruit trees they had gathered, along with the berry bushes and saplings originally kept in the basement. They planted them throughout the greenhouse in a scattered, categorized layout—it was best not to expose newly transplanted vegetation to blistering, direct sunlight, and the ongoing roof construction handily served to block a portion of the sun.
Yan Fei focused primarily on mounting the glass and assembling the framework, and once Luo Xun and the others finished painting the patterns, he would “fuse” the metal plates onto their proper coordinates.
This entire sequence of tasks consumed a massive amount of time. By the time they finished every last detail—sealing the roof and successfully transplanting all the vegetation—a full week had slipped away. And that didn’t even account for the prior days spent filling the pits, scavenging for metal, and mixing the soil.
By now, the calendar had marched into early July, rapidly advancing toward the middle of the month, and the weather had reached the absolute peak of summer heat.
The newly constructed greenhouse completely encased the first and second floors of the small building within its perimeter. The lone structure still left exposed to the outside was the third-floor apartment. Luo Xun and the team had previously installed all their scavenged air conditioners into the third-floor rooms. Right now, they took the remaining air conditioning units, mounting the outdoor compressors onto the greenhouse roof and running the indoor cooling units into the living spaces, ensuring everything could operate normally whenever required.
Enclosing the rooms from the second floor down meant that Luo Xun and the team no longer needed to maintain so many heavy metal frames along the lower exterior walls for protection. The solar panels originally mounted along the sun-facing side of the second-floor wall were now completely transferred onto the greenhouse roof and the exterior of the third-floor walls and roof. Under the cover of the camouflage plating, these panels—combined with the surplus solar units stashed at home—were all successfully put to use.
Now, whenever Luo Xun and the team stood by the second-floor windows, they could look out at their newly established greenhouse. It looked like a beautiful blend of an orchard and a garden, teeming with vibrant life everywhere. Aside from the absence of wildlife and insects, it was a genuine, bona fide little garden paradise!
With this new little garden complete, no one was more ecstatic than little Xinran and the puppy. Luo Xun and the guys explicitly left a patch of temporarily unutilized ground open, constructing a swing set for little Xinran. They also transplanted the grapevine trellis from their old apartment terrace right alongside it, arraying stone stools, a stone table, and a wooden bench they had retrieved from a nearby roadside park underneath.
When the group finally caught a breather to rest beneath the shade of this foliage, they even began to wonder—should they track down a pre-apocalyptic amusement park on one of their excursions and haul back a few compact, manageable pieces of playground equipment?
Watching the little girl giggle and laugh as she soared on the swing, with the puppy sprinting back and forth alongside her, while the little baby watched the child and the dog play with wide, intensely curious eyes, everyone felt this idea was worth putting on the agenda. If they passed any children’s parks or indoor play zones on future supply runs, they should casually retrieve some fun gadgets to decorate their home.
“Is it really okay for those vehicles to be perched right over our heads like that?” The question came from Li Tie, who pointed behind the building toward several agricultural vehicles resting on a metal platform cantilevered out into mid-air. Perched on the absolute outer edge was a tractor, which looked genuinely perilous.
Luo Xun raised his eyes to look at the platform, feeling a bit conflicted himself. “When we return from our next run, Yan Fei will fabricate a metal guardrail around the perimeter. Don’t worry, the chassis of those vehicles are thoroughly fused and anchored onto the walls and metal plating; they won’t fall down.”
Those machines did look quite terrifying. Although they sat at least a full head higher than a person’s height off the ground, having them jut out from the side of the wall was daunting. If everyone didn’t know for a fact that the metal platform Yan Fei fabricated was exceptionally thick and sturdy, likely no one would dare draw near that sector.
If possible, Luo Xun would have preferred to move them down to the underground parking garage, but currently, there was no elevator or tunnel between the surface and the basement large enough to accommodate them! Right now, the above-ground plaza was entirely hemmed in by the mutated plants, making it impossible to drive these machines out across the fields and into the subterranean tunnel entrance. They could only compromise by leaving them suspended in mid-air for the time being. If it looked intimidating, so be it.
The silver lining of excavating a substantial amount of new storage space underground was that a great number of items originally cluttering the surface could now be shifted into the subterranean storage rooms. This cleared out massive patches of open ground to cultivate flowers, wild grass, fruits, and vegetables, except for the heavy gear that was truly impossible to move.
Flanking both sides of the paths paved with marble and brick grew lush, thriving rows of green scallions, cilantro, garlic sprouts, and chives. Aside from the uniquely pungent aroma, a casual glance revealed no difference from a standard garden layout.
The garden also featured a deliberately excavated miniature stream, filled with fresh water solely to increase the humidity of the entire enclosed space; it served no other purpose for the time being.
Luo Xun and the team had also dedicated a specific patch of land to plant the watermelons they had continuously dreamed of, while peach, pear, and apple trees stood arrayed across the newly constructed rolling hills. There were also lemon thickets, kumquat trees, massive expanses of strawberries, cream fruit, and so on.
Naturally, along the roadsides, corner alcoves, and edges of the trees and flowerbeds, Luo Xun and the team explicitly positioned boxes for cultivating mushrooms. The exteriors of these boxes were designed to look like chairs and benches, allowing them to support decorations or flowerpots. Whenever someone took a stroll nearby and grew weary, they could sit down to rest their feet—though in reality, these units were deployed to absorb toxic substances and prevent the garden plants from undergoing secondary mutations.
Although it wasn’t perfectly refined yet, the construction of this greenhouse counted as a fundamental success.
Luo Xun had briefly considered whether he should release their flock of quails to let them roam and live freely throughout the garden. However, considering they hadn’t verified whether these mutated quails possessed dangerous superpowers yet—and they hadn’t even had the chance to slaughter a few to satisfy their cravings—he had to shelve the idea until they confirmed the birds posed zero threat. Who knew if these ballooned quails would completely wreck the garden they had worked so hard to organize? If they were going to destroy it, the team would much rather keep them cooped up in a dedicated room upstairs.
The grand engineering project at their new base had finally ground to a temporary halt. The tasks awaiting their focus next consisted of—heading out to find digital hardware, furniture, and children’s toys to decorate their living spaces.
At the same time, He Qiankun and Wu Xin lived up to expectations by once again intercepting internal documents from the Southwest Base. Yes, this time it wasn’t communications sent to other bases, but encrypted files broadcast through satellite signals to specific internal personnel within their own base. Because Li Tie and the guys had previously worked in the military, they knew several internal encryption keys. Previously, they simply hadn’t realized a dedicated channel existed for transmitting these files, meaning they lacked the opportunity to access them. Now that they were aware of both elements, these files naturally held no secrets from them.
The Southwest Base was indeed preparing to restructure according to the model of those small, disciplined bases. However, because they worried that the population baseline of the Southwest Base was far too massive, an excessively aggressive policy shift might trigger severe internal backlash, thereby threatening the absolute safety of the base leadership. Consequently, the administration decided to transition gradually. The method of transition was—completely dividing the city into an inner and outer base, enforcing a strict double-standard management system.
The inner city would implement thorough military-style governance. Those unwilling to comply could pack up and relocate to live in the outer city. However, if the base ever encountered an overwhelmingly catastrophic crisis, the military would consider prioritizing abandoning the outer city and retreating into the inner city. Therefore, regarding absolute security and safety guarantees, the outer city was nowhere near as secure as the inner city.
Following the restructuring, the inner city would temporarily prioritize military personnel and superpower users, while absorbing specific civilians who were willing to submit to governance. The outer city would serve as a temporary living zone for latecomers and independent survivors who refused to integrate.
However, once the inner city’s restructuring succeeded, the outer city would inevitably face the exact same fate sooner or later. The shift would simply hit the outer city a bit slower than the inner city.
Luo Xun thought about the apartment his family used to occupy—situated smack in the middle of a prime, golden location within the inner city. Letting out another soft sigh, he set the document down and cast the matter aside, turning to look at the group. “Is everything fully packed? Once breakfast is finished, everyone leaves the base together—move out!”
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