After her cultivation improved, Jiang Luokui’s five senses became much sharper.
For example, right now she was sitting in a corner of the cafeteria eating, yet she could clearly hear everything everyone on the first floor was saying.
“Don’t you wonder what Jiang Luokui’s ability actually is? How can a mere D-rank grow rice that well?”
“She’s from a welfare institute, right? Even if her ability is special, she only awakened it last year. Her control shouldn’t be this strong.”
“What’s there to guess? Don’t we have ability class this afternoon? Just challenge her during training.”
It seemed Class One just couldn’t let it go. A whole day had passed, and they were still discussing that photo of Jiang Luokui’s rice seeds.
On the other side of the cafeteria, the upperclassmen from the Agronomy Department were also gathered together, looking quite frustrated.
“Did you ask your class? Who’s making that scallion oil? Can’t they just make more and sell it at once? We’re getting mocked by other departments because of this.”
“We’ve asked every class except the freshmen. As for the others… anyway, no one admits it was them.”
“It can’t be freshmen. They just enrolled—no way they’re already working the fields.”
“Someone among us is lying! That bastard will definitely sell scallion oil again. When they do, I’m catching them red-handed!”
Jiang Luokui silently took a sip of soup. Sigh… I’d like to sell more too, but I simply don’t have the capacity.
The land she could rent was limited, and she couldn’t share fields with others—otherwise she’d have no way to explain why the radiation levels were mysteriously dropping.
You all happily joined in the betting, so you can carry this blame. Consider it karma.
She treated herself well today—three steamed buns with one meat dish and one vegetable dish.
But because all the ingredients carried some radiation, she didn’t enjoy the meal much. It even felt like she was wasting money.
There was no helping it. Animal feed in farms contains a large proportion of plants, and plants themselves carry radiation, which accelerates mutation in animals.
Low-level mutation was already considered top-quality meat on the market.
Jiang Luokui stuffed a piece of meat into her mouth. Another small goal added to life.
Once her cultivation advanced enough to support large-scale vegetable farming, she would definitely raise some pigs and chickens herself.
After eating, Jiang Luokui picked up the fertilizer she had just bought and planned to collect a package from the dorm supervisor. Bubu’s new nest had arrived today.
But as she left the cafeteria, she ran into Chu Zi’an, who was limping.
Only then did Jiang Luokui realize she had forgotten something—
—the twice-mutated cucumber vine!
“Xiao Jiang, are you saying that in the experimental fields, a student’s crop may have developed a situation similar to the one at Forward Farm?”
Jiang Luokui nodded firmly. “When I passed by a few days ago, I just thought that cucumber vine looked strange. But thinking about it now, its characteristics are indeed similar to the rice plant at the farm.”
“Teacher Li, I’m worried something like an injury incident might happen on campus, so I came to report it.”
Teacher Li took a deep breath, his expression serious. “Do you remember which area you saw it in?”
“Somewhere on the east side of the experimental fields, in a plot starting with the number 2.”
After hanging up, Teacher Li ran out of his office while calling Researcher Dong from Forward Farm.
“Old Dong, quick question. Are you sure secondary mutations only occur in high-radiation environments?”
Dong had just been woken from a nap and was a bit irritated, but the moment he heard this, he jolted awake.
“You found a secondary mutation plant inside the base?”
“Not sure yet. A student just reported it. I’m going to check now.”
“That’s unlikely,” Dong said, relaxing slightly. “Our farm has been operating for five years, and we’ve only seen two cases. And the latest plant we tested had radiation levels reaching level seven.”
Based on past experience, secondary mutations occur when a plant absorbs a large amount of radiation in a short time due to unknown causes. Research was ongoing, but the mechanism remained unclear.
Hearing this, Teacher Li also relaxed a little. “Then maybe the student was mistaken. The experimental fields here usually only have radiation level two—not enough to trigger a secondary mutation.”
To be safe, Dong initiated a video call instead of hanging up.
As Teacher Li approached the field, he enabled perspective sharing.
The experimental fields were mostly empty at this time, but when Teacher Li found the plot Jiang Luokui mentioned, a male student was there, wearing headphones and humming while taking photos of a cucumber.
The moment Dong saw the vine through the feed, cold sweat broke out.
“Get that student out of there—now!”
As an agronomy instructor, Teacher Li immediately recognized the abnormality—the vine showed not one, but two mutation traits.
Zhuo Bo was admiring the giant cucumbers he had grown. He was trying different angles to capture their size, and just as he leaned in to use his head as a reference—
he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and yanked back.
The oversized cucumbers hung quietly on the vine. Their spiky protrusions were longer and thinner than usual, almost unnoticeable.
But this was indeed a secondary mutation plant.
Teacher Li dragged the student out of the plot in one go.
“Teacher Li?” Zhuo Bo recognized her, shocked. “How do you have permission to enter my plot?”
“You can’t tell your cucumbers have mutated?” she snapped, pointing at the vine. “Didn’t I teach you that abnormal fruit enlargement is one possible mutation direction?”
Mutated plants should be uprooted immediately!
But Zhuo Bo looked confused. “But I was cultivating a large-fruit variety… Doesn’t this mean I succeeded?”
Teacher Li: “……”
Researcher Dong: “Which cohort is this student from?”
“Class of ’08,” Teacher Li replied weakly, waving Zhuo Bo off. “That plant has mutated. The school will handle it. You can leave.”
Dong pinched the bridge of his nose. Ah… the cohort where they lowered the admission score and still almost didn’t fill seats…
Zhuo Bo wanted to argue, but seeing Teacher Li’s grim expression, he began to doubt himself and left dejectedly.
As soon as he was gone, Teacher Li took photos and sent them to the department group chat, tagging Professor Qian.
[Li: @Professor Qian, are you available? A secondary mutation crop has appeared in a student plot. Cause unknown. Please come take a look.]
The entire agronomy faculty was alarmed and rushed to the fields. After confirming the vine was indeed a secondary mutation, they were in disbelief.
“The radiation level here is only two—how could this happen?”
“Where’s the student responsible? Did he use something with excessive radiation recently?”
After inspecting the site and speaking with Dong, Professor Qian turned to the others calmly.
“Those with afternoon classes may leave. We don’t need so many people here.”
Half the teachers departed.
Teacher Li asked worriedly, “Professor Qian, should we report this?”
“We must report it,” Qian sighed softly, “but carefully. I’ll speak to Principal Sun personally. You have Dong report it through his channels as well.”
“Understood.”
After lunch, Jiang Luokui brought Bubu’s new nest to the experimental fields, only to find the entire area sealed off.
Security staff said sternly, “The school is investigating mutated plants. Please come back this afternoon.”
Teacher Li worked fast.
Jiang Luokui nodded and didn’t approach further. But just to be safe, she sent Bubu a message from the perimeter:
“Inspection today. Return immediately.”
There was nothing in Plot 147 that couldn’t be seen—except Bubu.
It looked like a sentient radish. If someone mistook it for a mutated plant, that would be troublesome.
Bubu came running like a little dog. Jiang Luokui seized the moment, crouched, and tilted the new pot. Just before security could notice the white blur, Bubu leapt into the pot at high speed.
“Come to class with me today. This afternoon is a practical lesson—it should be fun.”
The agronomy curriculum was adjusted based on progress. Today’s two theory classes had been replaced with Ability Practice and Analysis, a combined theory-practical course.
A teacher in a floral dress entered the training room with a gentle smile, writing on the board as she spoke:
“Before class, let me introduce myself.”
“My name is Zhang Yao. My ability rank is…”
She wrote: C-rank.
Jiang Luokui remembered this teacher well. Teacher recruitment at Third School was even stricter than student admissions. Even counselors were at least B-rank—yet Zhang Yao was the only C-rank teacher.
More surprisingly, she taught Ability Practice and Analysis—the only non-major course all students had to take.
Zhang Yao was not yet forty but looked barely over thirty. She had a gentle demeanor and seemed easygoing.
“You’re not mistaken—my ability is indeed only C-rank.”
Her gaze briefly swept over Jiang Luokui’s attentive face, and her smile softened further.
“I’ve reviewed your assessment reports. Across both classes, the highest ability utilization rate belongs to Li Jueming—75%.”
“The testing equipment is new, so data is incomplete. But among faculty, the average utilization rate is about 93%.”
“My utilization rate… is 98%.”
She stepped down from the podium and clapped lightly.
“I don’t like lecturing from textbooks. Since this is a training class, pair up. Listen while I explain, and practice at the same time.”
“You have five minutes to find a partner. Also, training data will be included in your evaluation, so choose carefully.”
The moment she finished speaking, the freshmen rushed toward their chosen targets.
At least ten people surrounded Jiang Luokui.
All from Class One.
In unison, they said:
“Student Jiang, please be my partner!”
Jiang Luokui: …?