Although the land was expensive, Jiang Luokui had no choice. She mourned her wallet for half a minute, then resolutely transferred the money to Teacher Lu and rented the plot.
[Teacher Lu: The plot number is 147. It’s already linked to your student ID. When you go there for the first time, remember to scan the QR code at the edge of the plot using LingXun, otherwise it will trigger an alarm.]
[Jiang Luokui: Got it, thank you, Teacher Lu.]
After buying soil and renting land, she still needed seeds and fertilizer—but Jiang Luokui only had 744.5 yuan left.
Placing Bubu on the dormitory windowsill, she opened LingXun to search while picking up a small shovel, preparing to dig out her pot of scallions to make space for Bubu.
Although a natal spiritual plant wasn’t exactly a normal plant, it still shared plant-like traits. If left outside too long, it needed to absorb the earth’s energy from soil and required regular watering.
However, after checking the current market prices for seeds, she silently put the shovel back down.
Damn it—1 gram of lettuce seeds cost 10 yuan!
Half a fen of land required at least 10 grams!
Then she looked at oil lettuce seeds—4 yuan per gram. Though cheaper, it required more quantity, making it even more expensive overall.
Since she wanted quick yields, Jiang Luokui focused on fast-growing leafy vegetables. But after browsing them all, none were cheap.
The prices were suffocating. She closed LingXun and looked at the half-dead but heavily sprouting scallions in front of her.
“…Why not just plant this?”
Back before the wasteland era, people used scallions as seasoning to remove odors and enhance flavor. Now, they had fallen so far they were mainly used as tools for ability testing—but these scallions… were free.
And for Jiang Luokui, free was best.
She recalled the wonderful days in the cultivation world where she feasted freely. “I could make scallion oil. If I cultivate them into spiritual plants, the oil would have special effects. It should sell just fine.”
Scallion oil noodles—that aroma was irresistible!
Wait… how much did cooking oil cost now?
The cheapest edible oil was 180 yuan per liter, made from wild mutated rapeseed. It had a strong earthy and grassy smell, weak fragrance, but its biggest advantage was that it was cheap.
The strange taste didn’t matter—spiritual scallions would definitely overpower it.
However, there was still one problem. Even after dividing the mother plant, it wouldn’t occupy much space, leaving most of the thirty-square-meter plot empty.
Her gaze shifted to another pot of scallions.
It belonged to Lin Zihan. It was in even worse condition than hers—though it had sprouts, it was short and looked like it was on the verge of mutation.
After drawing spiritual energy into her body, Jiang Luokui’s senses had become sharper. She heard heavy footsteps approaching Dorm Room 501.
She quickly picked up Bubu and placed it on her bed, whispering, “Someone’s coming. Hide yourself and don’t make a sound.”
Bubu softly chirped “A-boo” and slipped into the folded blanket.
Lin Zihan burst in, face flushed from the heat, shouting, “I’m going to fight those rich kids from the next class! Each of them wanted three to five bags—I almost couldn’t buy any! Huh? Why are you the only one here?”
“The combat department is probably busy. Have you eaten? Here, have some.” Jiang Luokui handed over one of her remaining flatbreads.
Lin Zihan didn’t hold back. She set down the bag of soil, sat under the fan, and ate while glancing at their other roommates’ beds. “The combat department doesn’t even get a lunch break? That’s brutal.”
Jiang Luokui had no idea what those roommates were doing—she hadn’t been close to them in her previous life either. So she asked instead whether Lin Zihan still wanted her scallion pot.
“Probably not. It’s about to mutate anyway. Might as well free up the pot for this semester’s assignment. Do you want it? You seem to like growing scallions—don’t be shy.”
Hearing that, Jiang Luokui stuffed her remaining flatbread into Lin Zihan’s hands. “Then I won’t be polite. Eat more. When I get rich, I’ll take you with me!”
Lin Zihan knew her limits well. She was a C-grade, and Luokui was D-grade. Graduating smoothly would already be an achievement.
As for “taking off,” that was something only someone like Li Jue Ming from Class One could do. Still, she nodded enthusiastically while chewing. “Okay, okay! I’m counting on you this life, sis! Work hard!”
With the mother plant issue resolved, Jiang Luokui couldn’t sit still anymore and wanted to check out her land.
The midday sun was scorching, making it hard to keep her eyes open. After just a short time under it, her scalp felt like it was burning. The campus was nearly empty.
The Third School’s farmland wasn’t inside the campus. Walking southwest from the school gate, there was about 80,000 square meters of experimental land.
Jiang Luokui walked while breathing steadily. The distance was nothing to her.
Bubu poked its head out of her sports pants pocket, clinging to the edge like a tiny puppy, panting heavily.
So hot! I want water!
Even as it felt like it might dry into a radish chip, it still curiously observed this world.
The cultivation world emphasized nature, but this wasteland world was filled with concrete and faint radiation everywhere.
Jiang Luokui gently patted its head. “Hang in there. We’ll be at the field soon. I’ll soak you in water later.”
After crossing the street outside the school, a neatly arranged grid of farmland came into view. Some plots had sparse crops, others lush greenery, and a few even had golden rice fields.
The lush ones were clearly professors’ experimental plots.
Each plot was enclosed by wire fencing, with an electronic sign displaying its number and QR code. Professors’ plots were usually grouped together, surrounded by a larger enclosure.
Inside those areas, the crops looked decent—not exceptional, but not embarrassing either.
However, deeper inside, the scenery changed.
The crops became sparse and uneven—same species, but each looked different, growing in all sorts of irregular ways.
“Baby! Please don’t mutate! If you change too, what will I do about my thesis—!” a desperate cry echoed from nearby.
Jiang Luokui immediately knew—another agronomy senior whose thesis had gone wrong. She had heard such breakdowns countless times in her previous life.
“Damn it! I gave you fertilizer, water, took care of you every day—why did you still mutate?!”
Wang Meng was at her breaking point.
She had painstakingly cultivated a sweet-tasting corn, rated A by her teacher. It had seemed like a bright future.
But the corn’s traits were unstable and disease-prone. She should have graduated that summer—but her entire crop died, forcing her to delay graduation.
This June, she tried again.
Now, most had died or mutated. Only one plant remained—and it was starting to mutate too.
Was she cursed when it came to growing corn?
Even such an easy crop had been completely wiped out under her care.
She sighed. Maybe she really needed to switch crops.
Jiang Luokui couldn’t make sense of the plot arrangement. The layout looked neat, but the numbering jumped around strangely.
No choice—she had to ask someone.
“Senior, do you know if plot 147 is nearby?”
Wang Meng was startled and turned around. She didn’t recognize the girl.
“Why are you looking for 147?” she asked.
Jiang Luokui glanced at the corn. “I rented it. First time here, so I’m not sure if I’m in the right place.”
The corn looked just like Lin Zihan’s scallions—stuck at an unstable genetic threshold. No wonder the senior was so distressed.
Wang Meng was kind-hearted. She locked her plot and led Jiang Luokui toward 147.
“You got scammed! You dared to rent 147? The radiation there won’t go down—and it’s even spreading to nearby plots. Didn’t your teacher tell you?”
“He did. But it was the only plot left.”
“You still rented it knowing that?”
Wang Meng sized her up. She knew most third- and fourth-year students—this one looked unfamiliar. A freshman?
“That makes sense. Small plots are mostly taken by upperclassmen. Oh right—are you planting? I bought a lot of fertilizer I probably won’t use. I can sell it to you at half price—guaranteed safe.”
Unsafe fertilizer? Jiang Luokui had never heard of that.
Wang Meng shrugged. “Of course there is. The previous owner of 147 got ruined by unsafe fertilizer. You’ll see when we get there.”
Plot 147 was at the far end—remote indeed.
“We’re here. Scan it to enter.”
Jiang Luokui scanned the QR code with the Third School app. The wire gate clicked open.
At the same time, LingXun displayed the plot’s data:
Plot No.: 147
Radiation: Level 3
Crops: None
Observation Log: None
…
As expected, high radiation.
Most school plots had radiation levels between 1 and 2. This one had somehow reached level 3.
Worse, the soil needed to be dug out one meter deep and discarded outside the base.
She rubbed some soil between her fingers. The fertility was actually good.
“This doesn’t seem like dangerous fertilizer,” she said.
Wang Meng crouched beside her and chuckled. “It seemed fine at first. But with radiation this high… what do you think caused it?”
At such levels, anything planted would have a high chance of mutation.
“Fertilizer can really cause effects this extreme?”
“No idea. That’s just what people say. The seller was never caught. The school tried reducing the radiation, but whatever was in that fertilizer keeps making it rebound. Now no one bothers anymore.”
Radiation not only affected mutation rates but also human health over time.
But Jiang Luokui wasn’t worried—in fact, she felt like she had gained something.
Seeds could be saved on, but fertilizer couldn’t. Even toxic fertilizer was still fertilizer—saving her money on base fertilization.
“I see. Thank you for telling me,” Jiang Luokui said. Then she added, “By the way, what happened to your corn? It looks like the stalk is starting to lignify.”
“Don’t even mention it—that’s my thesis!”
Wang Meng sighed and shared her misfortune.
“Mutation is tricky,” Jiang Luokui comforted. “But I don’t think you should lose hope. Your corn might still be saved.”
Wang Meng froze.
…Really?