Chapter 96 — The Grand Planting Plan
The team’s coordinated division of labor continued for a full week. At last, all the preparatory work for the apartments on the fifteenth and sixteenth floors was complete…
“Hey, look up there. Didn’t only the sixteenth-floor windows used to have metal frames outside? How come it feels like I blinked, and now even the fifteenth floor is full of them?”
“You call that just one day of not paying attention? There was already a metal railing outside that fifteenth-floor window before, wasn’t there?”
“But what about the other rooms?”
“Who knows? Anyway, there’s nothing hanging on the racks.”
Solar panels were flat. On their own, they were quite conspicuous when placed outside, but once covered by a fairly dense layer of metal grating, they didn’t look nearly as eye-catching.
Over the past few days, Luo Xun and the others had used the points everyone pooled together to exchange for quite a few more solar panels. Even so, they still hadn’t managed to cover all the exterior walls of the two floors completely—there was more work to be done.
Xu Mei and her companion had, like ants moving house, gradually brought back all the soil needed for these two floors back in the middle of last month. By now, it had all been dried and placed into neatly arranged planting racks.
In the fifteenth-floor corridor, there was a row of planting racks only near the doors of rooms 1503 and 1504. Along the outer side stood two freezers and a washing machine.
The washing machine had been exchanged earlier by Li Tie’s group, specifically as a communal washer for everyone—except for Luo Xun and his partner. The two freezers were placed here to store harvested vegetables later on and weren’t yet connected to power.
The refrigerator they’d brought back earlier had been placed in Li Tie’s place, since the crops they’d planted before were now being harvested one after another and needed storage.
Now, Luo Xun was leading Xu Mei and her companion, with Yan Fei following behind, as they carried out boxes of sprouted seedlings from Xu Mei’s home.
Inside were all rice seedlings. What they were about to do now was—transplant rice!
On the fifteenth floor, aside from Xu Mei’s room, the remaining rooms were all prepared to have a shallow layer of rice planted in the middle tier. This would be their future staple food source!
The “otaku squad” now had quite a few members, but if these three rooms, plus the rice Luo Xun had planted earlier, could all grow successfully, then by rotating them with other grain crops, they would be more than capable of supporting the entire group’s food needs. Luo Xun’s goal was high-quality mutated rice varieties; of course, even if they couldn’t produce premium mutated strains, simply growing normal, non-mutated rice would still sell for far more in the base than the bad-tasting but high-yield common mutated rice.
Luo Xun and Yan Fei themselves had at least one meal a day that didn’t rely on their own food supplies. Li Tie, Zhang Su, and the others who worked outside could eat two work meals a day at the base. The only ones fully relying on home-cooked food were the three women, whose appetites weren’t large to begin with. So if their crops could grow smoothly, then no matter which type of rice they harvested, it would all translate into pure profit. And besides—those profits wouldn’t stop there.
Originally, the quantity of seeds and seedlings prepared by Luo Xun’s household wasn’t enough to plant all of these rooms. Fortunately, everyone was extremely lucky to run into the base’s ongoing promotion of household farming—the exchange prices for planting supplies were astonishingly low. On top of that, both Luo Xun and Li Tie had some connections they could leverage, which made the prices of the seeds they obtained even cheaper. Supplying these two floors for cultivation posed absolutely no problem.
The group walked into Room 1504. Like 1501, this apartment had three bedrooms, with a relatively large interior space. By now, it was already filled with rows upon rows of iron shelving. These racks were divided into three tiers, though at first glance they appeared to have only two.
The bottom tier went without saying: it consisted of unremarkable drawers full of small holes. Inside the drawers were blocks of processed wood that had already been inoculated with mushroom mycelium, just waiting for the mushrooms to grow slowly. This level required no special attention or care during normal times.
Above the mushrooms were tiers already filled with soil, shaped into neat rows of “fields,” waiting for seedlings to be planted. Once planted, these beds would be flooded with clean water.
Of course, all these iron racks had been designed by Luo Xun himself. He had incorporated water inlets and outlets so that water inside could drain and circulate in a timely manner. Beneath the top tier of each rack was a row of daylight lamps—these served as the lighting system. Soil had also been placed on the upper racks, and if anyone wanted to tend or harvest the crops, they could easily climb up using the ladders installed beside each rack.
The upper-tier space was slightly lower than the lower one, so it could only accommodate crops that didn’t grow too tall—such as potatoes, onions, or various leafy greens. On the racks along the walls, the upper tier followed the same design as Luo Xun’s Room 1603, with iron pipes installed for climbing plants. These vines could grow all the way up to just below the ceiling, forming a dense canopy—truly making full use of every inch of usable space in the room.
The same design had been adopted in two other vacant rooms on the fifteenth floor. In other words, aside from everyone’s living quarters and Room 1603—where various vegetables and fruits were already planted—all remaining rooms were devoted to both grains and vegetables, with not a single inch wasted.
Even the corridors and stairwells were planned for growing vegetables that didn’t require long hours of sunlight, such as lettuce or asparagus. With supplemental lighting each day, that would be sufficient.
As for the rooms where other people lived, Luo Xun had already decided that if their own fruit plants managed to produce seeds this year, those rooms would primarily be used to grow fruit and fast-maturing vegetables. For now, they would naturally be used for vegetables, which were easier to care for and yielded faster.
They carefully inserted the seedlings into the soil one by one. Since only this many seedlings were ready for planting today, Luo Xun took the opportunity to use them to teach Xu Mei and the other woman. Once more seedlings were ready later, they could hand the work directly over to the two ladies.
After all the seedlings had been planted, Song Lingling stood by the water tank in the bathroom that was dedicated to supplying water and began filling it. When the water reached a certain level, Luo Xun waved his hand. “Release the water.”
Streams of clear water flowed into each planting box with seedlings already in place, adding a sense of vitality to the room.
Looking at the rows of planting racks that had been completely set up, Xu Mei and Song Lingling’s eyes were filled with joy. The feeling of planting and cultivating with their own hands was truly wonderful. Though they were only small seedlings, the vitality they represented allowed people to feel life itself deeply and vividly.
“Alright, that’s about enough for today. We’ll go back and sprout some other vegetable seeds, then plant them gradually later,” Luo Xun said, turning around with a smile toward the two women.
On the fifteenth floor, the small bedroom shared by Xu Mei and the others had also been converted into a seedling nursery. All seedlings were cultivated there. In addition, Luo Xun had allocated about half of the small quails as team-wide communal resources and let Xu Mei and the others raise them on their balcony—it was far more reliable to entrust these fragile little creatures to the two girls than to Li Tie and the others.
All of this was considered team property. As for Luo Xun’s own Room 1604 and the items in each person’s private rooms, those still belonged to each individual. Regarding this batch of communal assets established by the “otaku squad,” Luo Xun and his partner contributed the most. Although one of them was the team leader and it was only natural for him to shoulder more responsibility, everyone still discussed it clearly and agreed that once these ventures began generating returns, aside from retaining some profits to expand communal assets, Luo Xun and his partner would take the largest share. The rest would receive shares based on their individual contributions, some more, some less.
With Yan Fei—someone who had already been quite well-versed in such matters even before the apocalypse—around, there was naturally no chance for anyone to harbor objections.
Xu Mei and Song Lingling, smiling happily, walked out of the room with Luo Xun and his partner. “Then we’ll go buy some food first, and later pick up Xinran to eat together.”
“Be careful on the way.”
After seeing the two women off, Luo Xun and his partner returned to the sixteenth floor. When they opened the door to Room 1603, the little creature, having heard the noise, came trotting over to the doorway with Xinran on its back, the little girl laughing and giggling.
“Uncle, uncle! The little guy just peed over there!” The little girl immediately tattled. The little creature, of course, couldn’t understand a word and had no idea that its playmate had sold it out with her very first sentence.
Luo Xun twitched the corner of his mouth and looked in the direction Xinran pointed. Sure enough, there was a suspicious patch of liquid on the corner of a rack, slowly drying. Although this stuff could technically be used as fertilizer, this bad habit absolutely couldn’t be indulged! He had clearly already taught this guy to pee and poop in the bathroom!
Raising his hand, Luo Xun flicked the little creature on the forehead. It closed its eyes in confusion and staggered back two steps. The wagging of its raised tail slowed down, yet it still had no idea why it had been flicked.
“You’re a german shepherd! A smart german shepherd! Not a husky! Where did you learn that expression?” Luo Xun pointed at the increasingly dopey-looking dog face, exasperated. Then he snapped back to reality—now wasn’t the time to scold it for being dumb, but to make it understand that it couldn’t pee randomly inside the room.
Yan Fei watched with a smile as Luo Xun led the little creature over to the metal rack, scolding it while explaining things, yet unable to bring himself to flick it again. How could punishing a dog with the intelligence of at most a four- or five-year-old child—one that had recently shown clear signs of getting even dumber—possibly work?
Back when the little creature lived in Room 1604, it had always been very well-behaved. Aside from treating slippers like a dining table and occasionally hiding a few of them, it never relieved itself indiscriminately. But ever since being moved to Room 1603, where it could occasionally run around and play everywhere, it somehow picked up this bad habit. Though not very frequent, it would sneakily do it once every few days, making Luo Xun regret whether buying a female dog back then might have been more worry-free.
Another batch of vegetables in Room 1603 was almost ready for harvest. After checking them, the two of them sent a message to Captain Li of the military camp cafeteria, saying they could deliver another batch of vegetables the next day, and quickly finalized the arrangement.
Not long after, Xu Mei and the others returned home with the food they had bought. Luo Xun gave the two of them a head of butter lettuce—this was from his own private produce, not communal property.
After thanking Luo Xun for the vegetables—clearly intended to supplement Xinran’s vitamins (the little girl, for some unknown reason, liked eating lettuce just as much as the little creature did, and wasn’t very interested in other vegetables)—they added, “On the way back, we saw that another patch of open ground under Building No. 2 has been dug up.”
Luo Xun wasn’t surprised. “Mutated plants again?”
Xu Mei shook her head. “We didn’t get a clear look, but I remember there used to be quite a lot planted there, and the fencing around it was pretty dense. Now even the fence has been torn down.”
Ever since the base began encouraging people to lease plots of land and grow vegetables, the actual benefits and results hadn’t yet appeared, but plenty of problems already had.
Because there were pioneers like Luo Xun and his group, when the base sold seeds it also included a planting manual. Printed inside were basic cultivation tips, along with an important reminder: to reduce the chance of plant mutation, it was best to use distilled, clean water for planting.
But who would go to the trouble Luo Xun did—processing water day in and day out, and then extravagantly using it just to grow vegetables? Many people, for the sake of convenience, would at most boil the water once before using it, and even then some still felt it was a waste of coal. The vast majority simply chose ordinary tap water. Only groups that had water-type ability users would deliberately use purified water for cultivation.
As a result, before these plants could even grow to maturity and be harvested, they had already begun to mutate. Among mutated plants, some were still edible, just with poor taste. But others were aggressive mutated plants. At the seedling stage, these weren’t very conspicuous—only looking slightly different from normal plants. Once their roots took hold firmly and they could draw large amounts of nutrients from the soil, however, mutation could occur overnight.
After just one night, the surrounding vegetables would all be strangled and absorbed as nutrients by the mutated plant. Its grotesque, clawing branches would lash about, attacking anyone who entered its range. Some could even spray venom to strike targets farther away.
In such cases, unless the plant was uprooted completely and thoroughly burned, the land was unusable—and it also posed a danger to passersby.
That was why, these days, in every residential area, outdoor planting sites were constantly being dug up here and cleared out there. As for those growing vegetables indoors or on balconies—well, no one was really paying close attention to that, and in any case Luo Xun and his group didn’t know much about the situation.
Early the next morning, the couple loaded the vegetables into the vehicle, with Li Tie and the others helping to carry things. This time, what needed to be sold wasn’t just the harvest from Luo Xun’s two apartments; the vegetables grown in Li Tie and the others’ homes had also matured. After settling on the team’s production model, Luo Xun had counted his own Room 1603 as part of the shared cultivation area. However, this particular harvest still counted as his private yield; from the next one onward, it would be merged into the team’s overall profits and distributed according to each person’s contribution. Likewise, by then the crops from the other rooms would also be producing some returns.
Even so, Luo Xun had already decided that after they returned this time, he would give Xu Mei and Song Lingling some crystal cores. After all, although this month’s produce technically counted as his private property, the daily watering and management had relied heavily on the efforts of those two women.
Everyone got into the vehicle and drove out of the residential area together. As they passed the entrance of a nearby complex, they saw a group of people fighting noisily at the gate—several of them locked together in a rolling brawl, tumbling from inside the compound all the way onto the sidewalk outside. A ring of idle onlookers surrounded them, pointing and commenting with schadenfreude written all over their faces.
“So lively this early in the morning?” Wang Duo, who loved gossip and was only barely restraining his inner curiosity after the queen’s ‘training,’ plastered himself against the car window, itching to jump out and ask what was going on.
“That’s enough. Whatever it is, ask about it tonight after we get back. Don’t be late,” Luo Xun said. He was curious too, but they had more important things to do right now.
“Mm, mm! I’ll just look, I won’t get out…” Wang Duo said, pressing his face to the window so hard his features were distorted. Beside him, Zhang Su didn’t even bother giving him a glance, arms crossed over his chest. Judging by his expression, Li Tie and the others had no doubt that he might kick Wang Duo at any moment.
The vehicle drove into the military camp and stopped at their usual spot behind Cafeteria No. 1. Since the harvest was larger this time, the other side brought out a small trailer to weigh and transport the goods.
Captain Li stood chatting with Luo Xun and Yan Fei as they watched others move the produce.
“Lately, hasn’t there been quite a few people growing things at home or by their doors? Are you accepting vegetables from outside here?” Luo Xun asked casually, using the question to gather information.
Captain Li sighed. “It’s not that we aren’t. You probably know that the exchange counters outside are also taking vegetables now. But a lot of the vegetables brought in are mutated, and we don’t really dare use them. I hear a few of the other cafeterias have used some that were tested and confirmed to be fine, but the quantities are pretty small.”
Not only small—in fact, they didn’t even match the yield of the vegetables grown inside the camp or along the walls. After all, most people grew vegetables mainly to feed themselves. Unless prices skyrocketed, very few were willing to exchange them for points or crystal cores.
Luo Xun and Yan Fei benefited from the fact that most of their homegrown vegetables were normal, which allowed them to use connections early on to find suitable channels for sale.
“Recently, a lot of people growing vegetables outside have run into mutated plants. Near our residential area, many folks have dug up their planted plots entirely. That must affect output too, right?” Luo Xun added.
To his surprise, Captain Li suddenly turned serious and lowered his voice. “It’s not just the vegetables grown in residential areas. The grain crops sown in the fields last month—more than half of them are said to have run into problems!”
“What? Problems? What kind of problems?” Luo Xun froze and quickly asked.
Captain Li glanced around, and only after confirming that no one nearby was paying attention did he speak quietly. “Didn’t it rain a while ago? After that, at least half of the seedlings that had originally been fine in the fields started turning yellow. At first, they thought it was pest damage. But after checking, they found the plants were growing just fine—the only change was the color. They’d all become mutated plants.”
Luo Xun raised his brows in surprise and asked softly, “Didn’t they say the military had found a way to reduce plant mutation rates?”
“They did, but that method can only be used during the seedling stage…” Captain Li said, then smiled at them. “I hear the research institute has already tested them. Although the plants have changed color, there’s nothing wrong with their composition—no toxicity, no aggressiveness. It’s just a cosmetic mutation. As long as they can still mature and produce seeds in the end, there shouldn’t be any real problem.”
No real problem—aside from the taste being worse. Luo Xun nodded at that and didn’t press further. Even if he did, Captain Li probably wouldn’t know more. This kind of rice, with the entire plant turning yellow, had been the most common mutated grain in the previous apocalypse: yield unaffected, nutritional value unaffected, just inferior in flavor and texture.
“These are today’s crystal cores,” Captain Li said, handing over the prepared bag after confirming the weight. After counting and settling accounts, Luo Xun and Yan Fei drove back toward their work area.
“So growing crops indoors may cost more upfront, but at least it ensures the safety of the harvest,” Yan Fei remarked. And fortunately, they had deliberately brought back some wood to use—even placing it in the cultivation rooms—which should help ensure the plants didn’t mutate during growth, or at least reduce the risk. Since the beginning of spring, the area where the base was located had seen only a single spring rain—and it had been a light drizzle, so gentle you didn’t even need an umbrella. Yet that single rain had been enough to cause mutation in crops the base had carefully cultivated to avoid it. No wonder the mutation rate was so high for vegetables grown in open community plots.
Yan Fei nodded. “Later on, we should still trade for some more solar panels and lamps to keep at home, just in case something breaks and needs replacing.”
Growing crops indoors had another advantage as well. For example, Luo Xun and the others were currently growing rice. As long as it was managed well, even if the yield couldn’t match that of specialized research test fields, it would still be quite respectable. And with proper care, they might not even need to rotate crops midway—continuing to plant rice over and over. Still, Luo Xun had decided that after the autumn harvest, they would plant corn or wheat instead. That would depend on the situation at the time.
The topics they chatted about in the car came to a halt once they reached the place where the team would regroup. After Captain Guo and the others arrived, they began the day’s work.
The otaku squad’s grand farming endeavor was progressing smoothly. Not only were the crops at home growing healthily and vigorously, even the little quails were growing at an astonishing rate. The earliest batch had already matured and had even started laying eggs!
Little Xinran spent every day pressed against the large glass tank at home, staring eagerly at the quails inside and the tiny quail eggs they produced. The little girl desperately wanted to take out a couple to play with her, but the creatures were far too fragile—how could Xu Mei and the others dare allow that? With no other choice, they could only ask the little creature to come keep the child company. As a result, when Luo Xun and his partner came home, they almost always saw the same scene: in Xu Mei’s apartment on the fifteenth floor, on the balcony, sat a large glass tank they had specially traded for earlier. Inside, just like the one in Luo Xun’s home, were soil, vegetables, and small wooden shelters, housing a flock of egg-laying quails.
Yu Xinran and the little guy lay side by side on the outside of the glass tank, pressing their little faces and dog faces tightly against the large glass tank until their faces were distorted, but they still refused to move.
Fortunately, although the quails are rather timid, once they get used to certain daily occurrences—like the two peeping tom—they quickly adapt to the scene. They continue eating, laying eggs, and defecating as usual.
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