43: Chapter 43 Next, Passing on the Torch

"Clatter."

The notebook in Chen Yan's hand, filled with data from countless failed attempts, fell to the ground.

But he couldn't care less. Like a madman, he rushed out of the control room, completely unaware that he had lost a shoe. He slammed open the airtight door and dove headfirst into the rice field.

This wasn't a hallucination.

The stinging sensation of the rice leaves brushing against his cheeks was real.

The weight of the heavy ears of rice pressing into his palms was real.

Even the mouth-watering aroma of rice in the air was real!

"This is... this is..."

Chen Yan's knees buckled, and he knelt on the damp soil of the ridge. With trembling hands, he held up a cluster of rice; every grain inside was as large as a peanut, so plump they seemed ready to burst through their husks.

Ignoring the mud and the fact that it was raw, he shiveringly peeled a grain and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing vigorously.

"Crunch, crunch."

The sweetness of the raw rice, mixed with the fragrance of the earth and a surging life energy, instantly exploded in his mouth.

There was no bitterness, no musty smell—only the purest aroma of grain.

"It's real... it's real... and these are definitely no ordinary grains!"

Chen Yan chewed the raw rice, his face blank with shock.

How was this still a mere crop?

Even Spiritual plants grown by immortals wouldn't be much better than this!

And at this moment, it wasn't just the Beijing Suburb Base.

This golden storm was sweeping across the entire land of Dragon Summer with an unstoppable force.

Northeast, the Heijiang border.

At this time, temperatures here had plummeted due to the global cataclysm; as far as the eye could see, it was a frozen wasteland of snow.

However.

From beneath the thick layer of snow, a heart-pounding cracking sound suddenly echoed.

The border guards, about to rotate shifts and evacuate, turned back in shock to see the iron-hard permafrost being pushed open by a brute force.

Amidst splashing ice and snow, tender green wheat sprouts stood tall and proud against the thirty-degree-below-zero winds and the swirling blizzard.

Then, in that thirty-degree-below-zero cold, on that storm-lashed border line, amidst the dancing snowflakes, a golden wave of wheat rose Heaven-Defyingly!

Golden wheat in the snow, waves of grain dancing in the wind.

It was a scene of such exquisite beauty that it would drive any painter mad and bring any biologist to their knees in worship.

The Great Northwest, the edge of the desert.

The eyes of the forest farm workers responsible for windbreaking and sand fixation nearly popped out of their heads.

The Sea buckthorn trees, which had been half-dead with withered yellow leaves, suddenly seemed to receive a shot of adrenaline. Their branches twitched and extended frantically, weaving into a massive green net in the blink of an eye. Bright red fruits instantly covered the branches, their heavy weight pressing the limbs down to the sandy ground.

Even more absurd was what was happening in the sand.

Watermelon vines slithered like green pythons, the sound of their climbing rustling in the air. Watermelons as large as washbasins appeared out of nowhere, "thump-thump-thump," bursting open from ripeness. Their ruby-like flesh stood out starkly against the grayish-yellow desert, and sweet, sticky juice instantly soaked into the dry sand.

Jiangnan, a parched paddy field.

An old farmer, wiping away tears over his failed crops, suddenly felt something tugging at his pant leg.

Looking down, the rice that had only reached his ankles was now shooting upward—it was literally "tugging" at his pants!

The old farmer was so startled he fell back into the paddy.

By the time he came to his senses, he was submerged in waves of rice taller than a man.

He stared blankly at the heavy golden grain above him, reached out to pluck a seed, and bit down, the hardness sending a jolt of pain through his teeth.

"The Heavens have opened their eyes... the Heavens have opened their eyes!"

The old farmer knelt in the water, kowtowing frantically.

The children at the edge of the village smelled the fragrance and rushed into the fields with cheers, rolling and playing hide-and-seek among the wall-like waves of grain. Their crisp laughter pierced through the heavy clouds and echoed far across the fields.

Even in the concrete jungles of the cities.

On the balconies of many citizens' homes, pots of green onions, garlic, and tomatoes that had long since withered suddenly burst their containers.

Someone watched a tomato grow to the size of a pumpkin, swaying precariously on the security bars; they hurriedly reached out to support it, fearing it would fall and crush a car below.

...

Beijing, Conference Room No. 1.

On the screen, Minister Liu Nong's face was pressed against the camera, his expression twisted almost into a grimace, making incomprehensible sounds of excitement.

"They grew! They grew! My goodness! This yield... this yield has at least quintupled! No, it's tenfold!"

"Chief! No more rationing! To hell with rationing! Let everyone eat their fill! If anyone still starves to death, I, Liu Nong, will twist my head off and use it as a football!"

In the background was a cacophony of cheers and howls. Those agricultural experts, usually as stiff as coffin boards, were now dancing a messy Yangko in the fields, with some even hugging and kissing the ears of rice.

Long Yi sat in his chair, holding a tea mug and looking out the window.

Even in the green belts of Kunlun Palace, the ornamental fruit trees were laden with heavy fruit, their branches bent low.

He gently blew on the floating tea leaves and took a sip, feeling that this tea was sweeter than any nectar he had tasted in decades.

"When the granaries are full, they know propriety; when food and clothing are sufficient, they know honor and shame."

Long Yi set down his tea mug and turned his gaze toward Su Yun, who sat at the conference table with a calm expression. His eyes were filled with admiration and relief.

This was a Pillar of the State.

He might not act often, but when he did, he stabilized the world and rebuilt the Divine Land.

Sensing everyone's gaze, Su Yun merely gave a faint smile.

"Don't be in such a hurry to celebrate, everyone. Get your Heart-saving pills ready."

"Now that everyone's fed, shouldn't we talk about how to make our brains work a bit faster?"

"For example... letting our scientists experience what an 'Epiphany' feels like?"

The conference room fell silent instantly.

In the next second, the Minister of Science and Technology's face shoved Liu Nong aside, nearly protruding from the screen, his eyes glowing green like a wolf's.

"Quick! Comrade Su Yun! I can't wait any longer! Pour that knowledge, that inspiration, right into us!"

Su Yun: "..."

These old gentlemen certainly have a wild way of doing things.

"Alright then."

Su Yun shrugged and raised his hand once more.

A new Totem pole was already condensing in his palm.

"Next, The Passing of the Torch."