The viewers in the Livestream Room followed her gaze and also noticed those disgusting stares.
【Holy shit, it can’t be what I’m thinking, right?】
【Are they even human? Human flesh has prion viruses—don’t they know that?】
【In ancient times during famines, there were plenty of cases of people exchanging children to eat. This is the Wasteland, where food is scarce and resources are depleted.】
The Bullet Comments fell into a brief silence again.
“They won’t resort to cannibalism. The government distributes food regularly to meet basic survival needs,” Lu Liuhe explained to them before raising her voice to shout, “Soldier, someone has collapsed here!”
A soldier patrolling with a gun, about two hundred meters away, ran toward them.
The hidden gazes from the shadows, like sharp swords, glared at Lu Liuhe with resentment and ill intent for meddling.
Lu Liuhe acted as if she hadn’t noticed them. Only after the soldier had spotted the child did she turn to leave, continuing her explanation: “They won’t eat human flesh, but the skin, hair, bones, and organs of the dead can be sold for money on the Black Market.”
【What will happen to him after the soldier takes him away?】
Lu Liuhe replied, “He’ll be collected and buried.”
【What use does the Black Market have for corpses?】
Lu Liuhe said calmly, “Although this is the Wasteland, some technologies are quite advanced. Skin, hair, and bones can be used on robots, organs can be transplanted, and blood can be extracted and traded.”
【Isn’t human trafficking illegal?】
One advantage of having few viewers in the Livestream Room was that Lu Liuhe could answer whatever questions came up. “It is illegal. To prevent corpse trading, the laws are very strict. Those caught desecrating corpses face the Peanut Bullet.”
The viewers understood, but legislation couldn’t stop those willing to take risks. Where there’s profit, there’s danger—it’s the same everywhere.
Someone in the Bullet Comments warned her.
【Host, be careful. You’ve ruined their plans, and they seem to have their eyes on you now.】
Lu Liuhe remained calm. “They don’t dare cause trouble for me. On my first day here, when I was begging for food and planned to take it home to eat slowly, they targeted me. When we reached a secluded spot, they tried to rob me, but I fought them off. They haven’t dared bother me since.”
【Really?】
【It’s true. The host is amazing. You’ll see when she goes home and tends to her crops later.】
Newcomer: Going home to farm? How does that prove she can fight?
Lu Liuhe smiled and continued walking forward.
The viewers in the Livestream Room watched as she passed through low, dilapidated, and chaotic shacks, walking along roads flooded with sewage.
Finally, she arrived at a ten-meter-high High Wall.
Lu Liuhe explained, “Inside this High Wall is a Private Planting Base. My family’s cultivation base is in there. To prevent plant Mutation, this High Wall was built to isolate the Planting Base.”
If there’s one job in this world that’s the most dangerous, it’s definitely working with plants and animals.
Because you never know when the plants you’re growing or the animals you’re raising might undergo Mutation.
If you don’t deal with them immediately, you’ll be the one who dies.
The original host’s parents were killed by a Mutated Plant ten years ago.
The original host’s grandfather was killed by a Mutated Plant half a year ago.
The original host had encountered a mutated plant a month ago and was killed by the toxic gas it released.
Fortunately, that mutated plant had no interest in eating humans, so when she transmigrated over, she obtained an intact body.
While the Livestream Room audience was still marveling at the High Wall,
Lu Liuhe had already walked to the entrance of the High Wall. After completing the Iris Recognition, she greeted the two guarding soldiers and entered inside the High Wall.
What met her eyes
was a beautiful four-lane cement road.
On both sides of the road were large, white, neatly arranged, semi-circular structures.
Lu Liuhe pointed at the structures and introduced, “These are all Planting Bases, varying in size.
The largest covers five hundred mu, the smallest ten mu. My family’s Planting Base is medium-sized, about one hundred mu.
Bases are applied for individually, and the government provides them for free.
However, every year, the harvested grain must be sold to the government.
If the yield per mu falls below two hundred jin for three consecutive years, the government will reclaim the land.”
Without waiting for newcomers to ask, the Livestream Room proactively provided information.
[The host’s base has had a yield of less than one hundred jin per mu for two consecutive years already.]
[The money from selling the grain at the host’s base has all been spent on buying seeds and soil fertilizer. She’s so poor that all she has left is land that will be reclaimed in eight months.]
[Last night, she planted her last handful of seeds. Now, she has nothing left.]
“Ah,” Lu Liuhe sighed deeply, playing along with the bullet comments.
The audience expressed sympathy but felt powerless to help.
That damn platform—if a single seed cost ten, a hundred, or even a thousand yuan, they could grit their teeth and buy one to tip her.
But with prices starting at hundreds of thousands or even millions, they couldn’t afford it, they just couldn’t!
Lu Liuhe walked forward for about fifteen minutes before stopping in front of a structure labeled “Planting Base No. 3.” She said, “This is my family’s Planting Base.”
After speaking,
she walked to the entrance, performed Red Membrane Recognition on the identification system, and the heavy iron door opened.
Once she entered,
the iron door quickly closed.
At that moment,
the Livestream Room audience felt a strange sensation—this structure seemed like a massive tomb.
Lu Liuhe pointed at the vast expanse of empty land before her and declared with grand ambition, “Look at our kingdom! I’ll slowly plant every bit of this empty land.”
Those who had previously mentioned crowdfunding genuinely pitied her.
[Host, I’ve already started a one-million-yuan crowdfunding campaign. Once we raise enough, I’ll tip you for a seed. What do you want?]
Lu Liuhe answered without hesitation, “Sweet Potato.”
High yield, easy to grow.
[Alright.]
Since Lu Liuhe started streaming a month ago, she had no viewers in the first week. In the second week, one finally joined, followed by a slow increase of about one per day.
However,
because the gift prices seemed like a scam, no one had tipped her—not even empty promises or lies to trick her.
Now, finally, a kind-hearted person said they would crowdfund to buy her a seed.
She couldn’t even imagine how happy she would be if she actually got a seed.
To repay the kind-hearted person, to show them a glimmer of hope, and to demonstrate her determination and attitude toward farming well,
she smiled even more brightly. “Everyone, I’ll now take you to see the handful of unknown seeds I planted yesterday. Guess what they’ll grow into?”
As she spoke,
she picked up a gleaming kitchen knife from the nearby table.
The newcomers saw a clear glint of excitement in her eyes, and for some reason, they felt their scalps tingle, their spines chill, and a shiver run down their backs.
Something felt off—it seemed like things were gradually taking a twisted turn.