Elder Qiu was remarkably efficient at processing their transfer paperwork.
By noon the next day—their second day in the Instance—Song Yue and She Wen had already received their official documents.
“Senior Sister Song, it’s official! We’re actually joining Elder Qiu’s team!”
She Wen had celebrated wildly in Song Yue’s dorm the night before, but the formal notice sparked a fresh wave of excitement.
Song Yue offered a knowing smile, genuinely happy for her junior. But privately, she couldn’t help but wonder.
Elder Qiu had long since vanished from the public eye. Rumors in the field claimed he’d retired from agricultural science after his team disbanded thirty years ago—a fact even her own university professors had confirmed.
So why was he suddenly and urgently recruiting them?
Her instincts told her Elder Qiu meant no harm, but there were still questions she needed to ask.
His laboratory was located in a secluded farm, right next to the same forest where they had been collecting plant samples.
From a distance, the hillside looked vaguely gray-white. Only upon closer inspection did they realize it was covered in the experimental greenhouses Elder Qiu had built himself.
They hadn’t noticed them when they took the other mountain trail to collect samples. Now, guided by Elder Qiu along a winding side path, the greenhouses came into clear view.
“Wow, Elder Qiu, you’re amazing!” She Wen exclaimed, genuinely impressed as she looked around. “How do you manage to keep all these greenhouses so clean and organized on your own?”
Qiu Rongyao waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. I just chipped away at it year after year, and eventually, it all came together.”
“But Elder Qiu,” Song Yue said, her curiosity getting the better of her, “forgive me for asking, but without a steady source of funding, how did you manage to build so many experimental projects?”
Seeds cost money. Specially formulated soil, water, fertilizer—it all cost money.
Everything about this operation reeked of expense. Song Yue had done some quick math the night before. Based on the funding Elder Qiu had received thirty years ago, he could only have sustained a private lab for five years.
At Song Yue’s blunt question, She Wen stiffened. She glanced warily at Elder Qiu, terrified he might lose his temper.
But Qiu Rongyao wasn’t angry. In fact, he was far gentler than the rumors suggested.
He gazed out over the vast expanse of land on the hillside. “The funding was never enough,” he said slowly. “So, in addition to my research, I took on part-time teaching and a few small, profitable projects. But…”
He paused, his expression turning grave. “Those projects only ever brought in quick money. They do nothing for the long-term development of agriculture. If I can, I hope to see Star Nation change in my lifetime.”
She Wen nodded vigorously, like a diligent student listening to a lecture.
Song Yue remained silent, lost in thought.
I’m just a passerby in this Instance, she reminded herself. Complete the mission, then leave.
She didn’t want to get entangled in too many of its rules unless absolutely necessary.
So she kept her mouth shut.
After they had toured half the greenhouses on the hillside, Song Yue finally asked, “Elder Qiu, what are you trying to develop this time?”
The theme of this Instance was high temperatures. As she asked the question, she already had a faint suspicion of the answer.
Sure enough, Elder Qiu’s response confirmed her guess.
“I want to develop a new, heat-resistant grain.”
“What?!” She Wen’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Heat-resistant? Why would you need that?”
The Star Nation’s temperatures weren’t even that high. Aside from this year’s slight anomaly, summer highs usually only reached 31 or 32 degrees. Why would Elder Qiu…
Noticing She Wen’s confusion, Elder Qiu clasped his hands behind his back and led them to the back of the mountain. He pointed to a canyon below. “Do you know what used to be here?”
“A waterfall!” She Wen offered eagerly.
“No,” Elder Qiu said. “Try again.”
“A river?” she guessed.
“Still no.”
“A lake?”
“No,” Elder Qiu said, his gaze fixed on the canyon below, his expression grave. “A glacier.”
“What?!” She Wen was completely bewildered. “A… a glacier?”
You’ve got to be kidding.
The Star Nation’s summers weren’t hot, but its winters weren’t cold enough to form glaciers either. She Wen felt her mind unravel, unsure if she was still awake or dreaming.
Song Yue walked over and patted She Wen’s shoulder. “These glaciers might not have formed here,” she said, half-explaining, half-speculating. “I suspect there are snow-capped mountains or ice fields upstream. Because of the high altitude, they’re permanently covered in snow and ice. Every summer, a portion melts and flows down into this area. Am I right, Elder Qiu?”
“Indeed, a top student from the First Agricultural College,” Elder Qiu said with a satisfied nod. “Just as Song Yue says, the glaciers here didn’t form naturally—they floated down from upstream.”
“I’ve lived here for over twenty years,” he continued. “For the first decade, glaciers floated down every summer. I was deeply shaken the first time I saw them. But in the second decade, I noticed the glaciers getting smaller and the water levels dropping.
“That’s never a good sign, so I began to investigate. Last year, I finally discovered the cause: global warming.”
“Global warming…” She Wen muttered, frozen in place. It was as if a switch had flipped in her mind. “I see! Elder Qiu, you mean global temperatures will keep rising. If the Star Nation doesn’t hurry and develop heat-resistant crops, the country will face a food crisis!”
“Yes,” Elder Qiu said, his gaze warm with approval. “She Wen has finally caught on.”
Blushing, She Wen smiled shyly. This was her first time receiving praise from such an important figure.
Song Yue, however, was lost in thought, wondering when Elder Qiu’s project would officially begin. She still had a mandatory mission to complete: rescuing the original owner’s younger sister.
I should tell him I need to go abroad for a short trip, Song Yue decided. I’ll join the breeding project as soon as I return.
But before she could speak, Elder Qiu beat her to it. “The two of you might need to accompany me to the Aisai Nation.”
“Huh?” She Wen gasped.
“Their desert soil is ideal for this research and cultivation,” Elder Qiu explained.
Song Yue’s eyebrows twitched slightly. What a coincidence, she thought.
Tickets were purchased without hesitation. The nearest flight was scheduled for 8:00 p.m. that evening. With a four-hour flight and a one-hour time difference, they would land at 11:00 p.m. local time.
With more than half the day to spare, Song Yue planned to use the time to stock up on supplies. Her space had expanded significantly and could now hold much more.
Her first stop was the supermarket. The original owner’s card held over 300,000—100,000 from last year’s salary with Zhou Shuhan’s team and 200,000 earned through frantic part-time jobs and high scholarships during her four years of college.
Due to the Star Nation’s limited grain and vegetable production, Song Yue found that even an ordinary cooked meal was far more expensive than in her own world. A single portion cost at least 180 yuan.
She bought roughly 50 kg of cooked food, which came out to exactly 100 portions. That alone wiped out 20,000 yuan!
Too expensive! I can’t afford this!
Song Yue decided to stop there. She already had over 300 takeout meals in her space; together with the new 100 portions, they would last her and her parents several months. And that was just the cooked dishes. She hadn’t even considered staples like noodles, rice vermicelli, rice noodles, dumplings, steamed buns, or flower rolls. Her family of three couldn’t finish all that in a year.
Decisively, Song Yue switched to stocking up on water. With time running out, she skipped the wholesale market and went straight to the supermarket. She bought 100 cases of drinking water, each containing four 10-liter bottles. At 200 yuan per case, the total was 20,000 yuan—not expensive at all.
After stowing the purchases in her space, Song Yue headed to the mall.
She noticed a strange disparity: while food was exorbitantly expensive in the Star Nation, clothing was incredibly cheap. The tags on the garments listed a chemical material called Yinglun, something she’d never seen in her own world. It must have been easy to mass-produce, she figured, which explained the absurdly low prices.
Song Yue didn’t hold back. She stormed through the major department stores, clearing out entire sections of every season—spring, summer, autumn, and winter. The sales assistants beamed with delight, their eyes gleaming as if she were a walking gold mine.
Yet, after this shopping spree, the total at checkout was a mere 50,000 yuan.
So cheap! she thought. I could buy the whole mall!
Of course, she couldn’t. She needed to save her remaining funds for heat-resistant suits.
Elder Qiu had introduced her to a supplier who, out of respect for him, offered her an insider price: 40,000 yuan per suit. These were lightweight, high-quality garments that outperformed anything on the open market. More importantly, they could block solar radiation from sunspots and even most nuclear radiation.
Not only was this black-tech suit unavailable on the Star Nation’s open market, but even Country Z didn’t possess such advanced technology.
Since the price was far lower than she’d anticipated, Song Yue bought five suits in one go, spending 200,000 yuan.
She still had over 40,000 yuan left on her card. After a moment’s thought, she decided to leave it untouched for now. Just in case I need money in the Aisai Nation, she reasoned, I’d rather not be left staring blankly at an empty account.
The group arrived at the airport right on schedule at 6:00 PM.
Noticing they still had a bit of time, Song Yue made yet another attempt to call Song Wei, the original owner’s sister. But the recording still informed her that the subscriber was unavailable.
With a sigh, she switched off her phone and boarded the plane.
Just then, a global news flash flashed across the airport’s main screen:
#Aisai Nation Hit by Once-in-a-Millennium Solar Storm; All Flights Delayed#
The airport instantly erupted into a chaotic uproar.