Meng Sheng tossed the second-generation seeds she had been keeping to him. Her expression remained indifferent as she said, “That’s the only pouch there is. Don’t waste them during your experiments.”
Zhou Shuhan stared at her, dumbfounded. “You’re… giving them all to me?”
For a moment, he couldn’t tell if he had hit the jackpot or if she had finally lost her mind.
Meng Sheng let out a soft hock and settled onto a sofa. She watched him with a meaningful look. “Well, we do share a common goal, don’t we?”
Zhou Shuhan stared back, unable to understand why she had suddenly become so driven. Only yesterday, when they had headed out to collect samples, she had looked utterly lethargic, as if everything was a chore.
Still, he wasn’t complaining. He felt a secret sense of relief; it was better for her to find her own motivation than for him to have to crack the whip every day to get her moving.
Wiping the shock from his face, he regained his composure. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. You provide the seeds; I provide the technology.”
This year, he was determined to produce an agricultural breakthrough that would change the Star Nation forever.
“By the way,” Meng Sheng said, breaking his train of thought, “which department handled our team’s funding last year?”
Zhou Shuhan paused, his voice dropping a few notes. “The Green Frog Finance Bureau…”
“Green Frog, huh…” Meng Sheng leaned back on the sofa, her long legs swinging idly.
Zhou Shuhan lowered his gaze, unable to hide his embarrassment. In the Star Nation, government funding was categorized into five tiers. In ascending order, they were White Cat, Green Frog, Blue Whale, Orange Melon, and the prestigious Amethyst Finance.
Having secured only the second-lowest level last year, his B-rank team had struggled to hold their heads high.
Meng Sheng, however, didn’t seem to find anything unusual about their past. Instead, her lips curled into a faint smile. “Let’s go big this year. We’re going straight for Amethyst.”
Zhou Shuhan’s composure, which he had only just managed to regain, shattered once more.
“I thought you were aiming for Blue Whale or Orange Melon,” he stammered. “I never imagined… you actually wanted Amethyst!”
It was an astronomical leap. Amethyst funding was almost exclusively reserved for S-rank teams. For an obscure little group like theirs to claim it, they would need to produce results that were nothing short of extraordinary. Without a miracle, it was simply impossible.
As if her words had peered directly into his thoughts, a light chuckle reached his ears a second later. “Then just produce something world-shaking. Wouldn’t that put the Amethyst right in your hands?”
Zhou Shuhan had to admit that, in that moment, he was tempted.
Amethyst.
If he could secure it just once in his life, he would have more wealth and status than he could ever spend. A golden path had been laid out before him; there was no reason to shrink back now. With his blood boiling and dreams of overnight riches dancing in his head, Zhou Shuhan left the room with a smile.
Once she was certain the doors and windows were shut, Meng Sheng sank back into the sofa. She raised a hand, lazily tracing patterns in the air.
“Survival, saving someone, and an Amethyst reward… S-rank Instance really are a hassle.”
She paused for a few seconds, her expression flickering with impatience. “I know, I know. It’s the last Instance. Once it’s over, I can finally go home.”
“Attention, passengers. We regret to inform you that flights ASX9420 and ASX9421 have been canceled due to extreme weather. Please proceed to the service counter to arrange a rebooking or refund. We apologize for the inconvenience and wish you a pleasant journey.”
The announcement repeated three times, sending a wave of anxiety through the waiting travelers.
Some people clutched their tickets with grim expressions. Others paced the terminal, restlessly slapping their foreheads, while some had already begun calling home to pour out their anxieties.
“Mom, the flight was canceled. It’s a Solar Storm. Yeah, the news says it’s really bad this time… What am I going to do? Linda is only twelve. She’s so young, and she’s all alone over there. I’m scared, Mom…”
“Dad, did you hear about the Solar Storm breaking out in Aisai Nation? Old Liu is there by himself. What if he can’t get back?”
“I’m fine, big brother… I’ll just cancel the wedding for now. Zoe? I… I can’t get a hold of her right now. It’s fine, really, I’m okay…”
Choked sobs, frantic pleas, and low murmurs filled the air.
To prevent the panic from spreading, airport staff were quickly dispatched to offer explanations and comfort the crowd.
“Attention passengers, please do not be alarmed. Solar Storm occur every eleven years; they are a natural phenomenon. Please do not be overly concerned. Once the storm passes, flights will resume. We will keep you updated via the public address system.”
“The airport has arranged for a nearby hotel, and staff will be escorting everyone there for a complimentary stay shortly.”
The airport’s prompt response succeeded in calming the majority of the frustrated travelers. As the passengers from the two canceled flights were being evacuated, Song Yue waved the staff off when it was her turn.
“The three of us won’t be staying. We’d like to refund our tickets instead. Is that possible?”
“Certainly,” the staff member replied professionally. “Please follow me to the counter.”
Just as the notification for the refund arrived on her phone, Song Yue booked new tickets.
She Wen stared at the new order on the screen. “Are we really taking the international high-speed rail?”
“The Solar Storm affects planes, but not the trains,” Song Yue replied, exiting the booking system. “If we want to get there as soon as possible, the high-speed rail is our best option.”
She was thankful that the countries in this world were interconnected by rail; otherwise, there was no telling how long it would take to reach the Aisai Nation.
Since the international rail station was close to the airport, the three of them prepared to hail a taxi. But just before they climbed into the car, Elder Qiu spoke up.
“She Wen, if you feel this isn’t necessary, you can stay behind.”
She Wen gasped, not understanding why Elder Qiu was telling her this.
“Going abroad this time is no game,” Elder Qiu said solemnly. “There is a real risk of injury. You’re still young, and you have plenty of opportunities ahead of you here at home. I’m just an old man; danger doesn’t matter much to me anymore. If you’re unwilling to go, tell me now. I’ll understand, and I’ll arrange a position for you in a team even better than Zhou Shuhan’s.”
He hadn’t mentioned any of this before because no one had expected the sunspots to erupt over the Aisai Nation. But things had changed. With the sunspots flaring in the sky and the ground temperatures still soaring, anything could happen. Song Yue understood why Elder Qiu was bringing this up now; he was simply being responsible.
She Wen bit her lower lip, lost in thought for a long moment. When she finally looked up, her eyes were swimming with tears.
“Elder Qiu,” she choked out, “do I still not meet your requirements?”
Otherwise, why would he only ask her if she wanted to stay behind and not Song Yue? She felt she was still too lacking. Even with Song Yue speaking up for her and pulling her into the team, Elder Qiu clearly still didn’t want her.
Elder Qiu was caught completely off guard. “What makes you think that?”
Song Yue let out a soft laugh and patted She Wen on the back. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked gently. “Elder Qiu said that because he’s worried about your safety.”
“Then, Senior Sister Song, you…”
“I have family in Aisai Nation,” Song Yue explained. “I’ve already cleared it with Elder Qiu. No matter what, I have to go.”
She Wen’s eyes widened. “Is that why?” She had truly thought Elder Qiu was politely rejecting her.
Relief washed over her, and her tear-brimming eyes instantly brightened. “Don’t worry, Elder Qiu! I grew up in an orphanage and don’t have any ties holding me back. I’ll go anywhere!”
Satisfied that she was willing to take the risk, Elder Qiu nodded and said no more.
The three took a taxi to the international high-speed rail station. After clearing security and identity checks, they reached their seats an hour later.
They weren’t the only ones who had switched to the train. Song Yue recognized several familiar faces from the airport: a mother worried about her daughter, Linda; a wife pining for her husband, Old Liu; a man rushing to see his fiancée. These were travelers who would rather endure dozens of hours in a hard seat than spend a single night in a hotel while their loved ones waited.
Temperatures in Star Nation had been higher than usual this year, but even at their peak, they couldn’t compare to the neighboring Sita Nation.
Half an hour later, the train crossed the border.
A chorus of gasps erupted from the passengers.
“The ground is actually cracking!”
“I remember a river being right here. How is it gone?”
“Look over there at the foot of the mountain,” someone else pointed out. “There used to be a massive lake. I brought my family here on vacation just two years ago, and now… it’s completely dried up.”
Song Yue followed their collective gaze, turning her head toward the window.
Under the setting sun, she saw fractured mud, scorched grass, and the skeletal remains of riverbeds. If she hadn’t overheard the other passengers, she never would have imagined this had once been a lush, vibrant grassland. The extreme heat had withered Sita Nation’s plains, leaving behind a landscape of yellow sand and stone where no sign of life remained.
Then, a dozen faces suddenly flickered into view.
They stood outside a station platform in tattered clothes, their skin sallow and their bodies gaunt from hunger. As the train roared past, a desperate sense of longing and expectation filled their clouded eyes.
But the train didn’t stop. Like a cold, unfeeling machine, it whistled past, leaving them behind in the dust.
The express train Song Yue had booked was a non-stop service heading straight for Aisai. While it was the best option for the passengers, it felt like a cruel twist of fate for the starving, thirsty citizens of the Sita Nation—a beam of sunlight curving away at the last moment to shine elsewhere.
Song Yue recalled passing a restaurant back in the Star Nation. The kitchen staff had been dumping large trays of leftovers into the trash. Since the Star Nation had not yet been hit by the extreme heat and its crops were still producing, the entire country remained comfortable and complacent. No one there seemed to care about the food crisis.
Except for Elder Qiu.
Despite his age, he had traveled all this way to find suitable soil for cultivation.
“I hope Elder Qiu can save his country,” Song Yue murmured, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon.
After a night of silence, the train was still traveling through the Sita Nation the following morning. According to the intercom, it would be another eight hours before they crossed the border into Aisai.
Song Yue finished the breakfast provided by the train and stared out the window. She Wen looked out as well, letting out a heavy sigh.
“It’s still just desert… I can’t believe the Sita Nation has become like this. Is their government doing anything at all?”
“The government? Haha, little girl, you don’t follow international news much, do you?” the man sitting across from them laughed. “Ever since the Reform Party took power three years ago and overthrew the original administration, this place has been a total mess. Those radicals use ‘reform’ as an excuse to massacre civilians and burn down towns just to establish their own autonomous zones. Do you really think a government like that can get anything done?”
The woman sitting next to him chimed in. “You can hardly call them a government. They don’t even have international recognition. They’re just playing house behind closed doors—it’s a farce.”
“Exactly,” the man nodded. “I saw on the international news that once the heatwave spread across Sita, the Reform Party didn’t bother trying to increase food production or solve the water crisis. Instead, they’ve been plundering the people’s grain and hiking up taxes.”
“But if I don’t even have enough to eat myself, how can I pay?” She Wen asked, her eyes wide.
“You don’t have to,” the woman said, shaking her head in sympathy for the local populace. “But then your only options are working as a slave for scraps or waiting to be hanged.”
Song Yue listened in silence, mentally drawing parallels between Sita and the war-torn countries of her own world.
By late afternoon, Song Yue finally caught sight of a town that hadn’t been completely leveled. Yellow walls lined the horizon, and streets intersected between scattered shops. Men and women moved about the alleys; it finally looked somewhat like a functioning country.
At that moment, a deafening explosion shook the heavens.
The entire train buckled under a violent jolt. The screech of brakes tore through the air, and everyone not wearing a seatbelt was hurled from their seats. In an instant, the carriage was filled with a cacophony of wails, curses, and the piercing cries of children.
“Are they trying to kill us? What is that conductor doing?”
“There isn’t even a station here! Why did we stop?”
“Ow, my leg! It hurts so much. Can someone help me up?”
Song Yue had kept her seatbelt fastened and remained safely in her seat. Sitting on the aisle, she reached out to pull up an elderly woman who was crying out in pain. The woman looked at her with deep gratitude, murmuring her thanks.
A small boy had also tumbled to her feet. Song Yue quickly leaned over to help him up. His mother, an Aisai woman, came staggering over. Seeing Song Yue helping her child, she smiled and made a gesture of blessing: “May the Lord God protect you.”
The other fallen passengers slowly picked themselves up, clutching their waists or rubbing their foreheads as they limped back to their seats.
Then, the intercom crackled to life.
The announcement began in Star Nation language, followed by Sita Nation language, and finally, Aisai Nation language.
“Attention, passengers. A massive explosion has occurred in the town ahead. To ensure the safety of this train, emergency brakes have been applied. The conductor is currently negotiating with the local authorities. We expect to resume our journey in approximately half an hour. Please remain calm.”
Silence fell over the carriage.
Those who had been shouting and complaining about the sudden stop moments ago were now speechless. They sat bolt upright in their seats, eyes wide with terror.
An explosion. It was actually an explosion.
How could they be this unlucky? They had run right into the middle of the Sita Nation’s civil war. The Reform Party members were notorious for their ruthlessness—they didn’t let anyone go without drawing blood. If they stormed the carriage, what would the passengers do?
The air in the train thick with fear.
Song Yue glanced toward the window. The yellow walls she had seen standing outside moments ago had been reduced to rubble. Thick smoke drifted over the rooftops, and the rhythmic rattle of gunfire echoed from every direction.
With every shot, the atmosphere in the carriage grew heavier, as if each bullet brought them a step closer to their end.
Beside her, She Wen was trembling. Song Yue took her hand and mouthed silently, “Don’t be afraid. Trust the conductor.”
The announcement that the conductor was handling negotiations suggested this wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred. While the Reform Party members were certainly terrifying, Song Yue was confident they weren’t foolish enough to openly provoke the entire Star Nation.
After an interminable wait in a cabin that had grown as cold as an ice cellar, the overhead speakers suddenly crackled to life. As the announcer finished speaking, a wave of jubilation swept through the train.
“The conductor did it! The negotiations were successful!”
“Long live the conductor! Long live the Star Nation!”
At the sound of a lone shout, the icy tension finally shattered, and tears of relief began to flow.
The train gave a long whistle and slowly lurched forward. As the scenery outside began to move, She Wen turned back, her eyes wet with tears.
“You were right, Senior Sister. We had to trust the conductor!”
At 4:00 PM, the International High-Speed Rail reached its final destination, thirty minutes behind schedule. Passengers surged toward the exits, and Song Yue, Elder Qiu, and She Wen were swept along by the crowd as they disembarked.
The moment they stepped onto the platform, a wall of heat slammed into them.
“It’s so hot!” She Wen grimaced. She pulled a small rechargeable fan from her pocket and pointed it at her face, but after a few seconds, she dejectedly tucked it away. “Forget it. It’s just blowing hot air. It’s worse than nothing.”
“You’re right. In fifty-degree weather, the wind is like a sauna. It doesn’t matter if it’s blowing or not.”
“Let’s take a taxi to Gabriel,” Elder Qiu suggested, having done his homework well in advance. “It’s the closest town to the desert.”
A line of cars sat parked just outside the main terminal. They picked one at random and climbed inside. Even though the process took less than a minute, Song Yue felt a sudden, sharp sting against her skin, as if she had been scorched.
She kept quiet and slipped into the front seat. When the driver asked for their destination, Song Yue used a translation app she had downloaded earlier to communicate.
The driver took one look at their luggage and immediately waved his hands in dismissal. “No, no. Don’t go there for sightseeing. It’s too hot!”
“We aren’t tourists,” Song Yue said with a smile. “We’re agricultural researchers. We’ve come specifically to collect and study your desert soil.”
The driver stared at her, mouth agape, struggling to process the claim. “Desert soil? Why study that? You can’t grow food in it.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” She Wen interjected once the translation came through. “Agricultural technology in the Star Nation is very advanced. We’ll definitely find a way to make crops grow in desert soil!”
The driver listened, a look of envy surfacing in his eyes as he started the engine. “Your country is so fortunate, Star Nation, to send you abroad for research like this.”
She Wen sat in the back, tilting her head curiously. “What about your country? Isn’t the President doing anything?”
The driver caught her eye in the rearview mirror and gave a helpless smile. “The President’s stance is that everyone should get used to a low-carbon diet and stop wasting food like they used to.”
“Huh?”
She Wen was stunned. She leaned forward and whispered to Song Yue, “Senior Sister, what does he mean by that?”
Song Yue looked straight ahead, her expression calm. “It means they’re being left to fend for themselves.”
She Wen stared at her. A national crisis was unfolding, and instead of finding a solution, the government was simply giving up? Worse, they were gaslighting the public into accepting it.
The driver couldn’t understand their language, but he could guess the nature of their hushed conversation. Perhaps truly disillusioned with the government’s actions, he didn’t speak another word about it for the rest of the trip.
It wasn’t until they reached Gabriel City and prepared to get out that he finally spoke. “The Lord God sent you here. You are saviors. I will not take your money.”
He pushed away the coins Song Yue tried to hand him.
The lives of the people in Aisai were far harder than those in Star Nation. Unable to ignore the pangs of her conscience, Song Yue swapped the money for food. She reached into her space and pulled out a bag of provisions and two bottles of mineral water, setting them on the passenger seat.
“This is what a kind person like you deserves,” she said. “May the Lord God bless you and your family.”
She finished with a local blessing gesture. It was a movement she had learned from the mother of the little boy on the train; though her execution was clumsy, it successfully earned the driver’s blessings and She Wen’s admiration.
“Wow, Senior Sister! You even know how to do that?” She Wen chirped. “Show me how—teach me!”
Song Yue smiled and demonstrated it again. She Wen watched with an expression of sudden realization and quickly mimicked the gesture.
Since the Aisai Desert was a famous local exploration site, the city of Gabriel was filled with shops selling various expedition equipment and tools. Seeing Song Yue’s gaze practically glued to the storefronts, Elder Qiu understood her intent immediately.
“Go on,” he said. “Finding your sister is what matters. She Wen and I will be collecting samples along the edge of the desert, so there’s no rush. We’ll meet you at the hotel in three days.”
“Thank you, Elder Qiu,” Song Yue said with a solemn nod.
She turned and vanished into the shop. Many items prohibited in Star Nation were openly available here: satellite phones, adrenaline injections, and even various weapons, both cold and thermal.
She purchased a satellite phone, ten vials of injectable adrenaline, a broadsword, a handgun with two boxes of thirty rounds each, and an assortment of other survival gear.
Surveying the submachine guns and sniper rifles lined up on the shelves, Song Yue felt a sudden pang of inadequacy. Relying solely on a pistol seemed risky. She resolved to learn how to handle more powerful firearms if the opportunity arose; bolstering her firepower was never a bad idea.
Pushing the thought aside, she hauled her gear to the counter to pay. Taking advantage of the transaction, she pulled out a translation app to ask the owner, “Is there anywhere around here to rent a desert off-roader?”
The shopkeeper was a man of typical Eastern European descent with deep brown skin and thick hair. He chewed his gum with a menacing scowl. “No.”
Song Yue picked up her bags and headed back out to look elsewhere.
At the threshold, a young man blocked her path, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Give me money.”
Song Yue glanced back, but the shopkeeper didn’t even look up. It was clear that this was simply how things worked here. Preferring to avoid a scene, she pulled two banknotes from her pocket.
The boy snatched them greedily. He checked the denomination, but he didn’t move.
Song Yue understood immediately: it wasn’t enough.
She sighed, offering him a “truthful” shrug. “That’s it. I don’t have any more.”
“Bullshit!” The young man gritted his teeth, his expression savage. “You people from Star Nation are loaded! What’s the harm in giving me some? Hand it over, or I’ll kill you!”
Kill her?
Song Yue’s lips curled into a smirk.
The smile only provoked him further. With a guttural roar, he lunged, his hand reaching for her pocket.
Song Yue stepped aside, dodging the grab with ease. In the same motion, she seized his arm and twisted it back. As the man howled in pain, Song Yue didn’t let up. She drew a knife from her space, pressing the cold edge of the blade against his throat.
“Your money or your life?”
She didn’t bother with a translation app, speaking instead in her native Star Nation language. Though he didn’t understand the words, the man recognized the murderous glint in her eyes and the bite of the steel. He shook his head frantically, shouting in the international tongue, “No! Don’t kill me!”
Song Yue understood that much. She gave a thin smile and retracted the dagger, then held out her hand, palm up. “Give it back.”
The young man didn’t dare utter another word. He scrambled to pull out the cash, threw it onto the ground, and fled.
The shop owner, who had remained silent throughout the encounter, finally dropped his earlier hostility. He looked at her with newfound respect. “I didn’t realize Star Nation had women like you.”
Song Yue gathered the money, ignoring him completely.
The shop owner cleared his throat awkwardly. “I know where you can rent a car.”