TNAB Ch 29

As August came to a close and the weather began to cool, the Ninth Agricultural Base welcomed the start of a new semester. Agricultural students were gearing up for another round of twig planting. He Yuesheng sat at a table, flipping through two bags of newly sprouted twig seeds labeled with a black marker: bitter melon¹ and Chinese cabbage².

“What are you planting next year?” Zhao Linong asked, holding two similar bags of twig seeds, as this was their assigned task for the semester.

He Yuesheng thought for a moment before responding, “Next year, we’ll move to the East District, so it’ll probably be rice and other twig grains.”

At the Ninth Agricultural Base, students were provided with different twig seeds throughout their four years, and their planting officer teachers guided them through the growth process of basic crops. Students learned how to plant in spring and autumn, witnessing the seeds’ journey from germination to full bloom and fruit-bearing. Other, more specialized twigs had to be studied at their own expense.

The first class of the new semester concluded after the seed distribution. Nudging Zhao Linong, He Yuesheng nodded toward the door. “Wei Li.”

Looking up, Zhao Linong saw Wei Li standing in the doorway, waving. The two quickly packed their things and walked over to her.

“Hey, junior sister, let’s go eat!” Wei Li said, still harboring some unease about the first canteen, preferring to stick with friends she trusted, especially after having shared roasted chicken and melons, moments she felt bonded them deeply.

Zhao Linong agreed, “Tong Tong should be done by now. Let’s go together.”

The first floor of the round building was enormous. It took them more than ten minutes to walk from their agronomy class to the horticulture class. After a short wait, they found Tong Tong walking toward them, holding two bags of fresh seeds.

“Senior sister?” Tong Tong blinked in surprise upon seeing Wei Li, but before she could say more, Wei Li had already pulled her toward the second canteen.

“Are you growing flowers?” Wei Li glanced at the seeds in Tong Tong’s hand. “Some flowers can be used as dyes. If you’re planning to focus on that and want to head to the Eighth Base, I can help.”

Wei Li wasn’t shy about showing off her connections. The Eighth Base specialized in growing spices and dyes, and her mother, Shan Yun, was a prominent researcher there, giving Wei Li plenty of sway in that field.

Tong Tong hesitated, then said, “I… haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Well, if you do, just let me know.” Wei Li puffed out her chest proudly. “I can access my mother’s study anytime. It’s packed with information.”

Wei Li left out the part that her mother intentionally kept the study door open, hoping to nurture her daughter’s intellect, despite her focus on raising chickens.

The second canteen, though less impressive than the first, served them their meals. Zhao Linong and Tong Tong picked at their food with little appetite, but He Yuesheng seemed content, occasionally ordering slightly better dishes. Wei Li, however, was always enthusiastic about food. She returned with a full plate and sat next to Tong Tong, eyeing Zhao Linong across the table.

After scrutinizing him for a moment, she asked curiously, “Have you lost weight?”

He Yuesheng and Tong Tong both glanced at Zhao Linong when they heard that. “Have you?” He Yuesheng asked, puzzled, as he had spent the most time with him and hadn’t noticed any difference.

Tong Tong, however, looked more closely and nodded. “Yeah, you do look a bit thinner.”

“Maybe it’s just the heat,” Zhao Linong shrugged, cutting off the conversation.

Wei Li dropped the topic, but as she ate, she couldn’t help but notice that her schoolmate not only seemed slimmer but also looked like something was weighing on his mind.

In the quiet of the evening, Tong Tong sat at her desk, seemingly studying the newly developed seeds in front of her. However, her mind wandered as her fingertips idly swiped through the screen, her gaze distant. She had been pondering a piece of simple yet valuable knowledge she wanted to share with her classmates—the concept of the co-prosperity plant system.

The co-prosperity plant system was based on the idea of planting two different types of plants together or intercropping, so they could promote each other’s growth and offer natural pest control. Tong Tong knew that planting leeks alongside tomatoes, for instance, could help alleviate bacterial wilt, reducing the need for pesticides. Similarly, onions planted with bitter melons could control various diseases, like melon vine blight, making it a cost-effective and natural prevention method. Even thyme could be planted with Chinese cabbage to repel cabbage worms.

Yet, when she thought back to the previous semester, she realized she hadn’t introduced this concept to her classmates. She had been too preoccupied with adapting to her new environment and hadn’t considered how to effectively share her insights. Now, as she stared at the seeds on the table, she realized she needed a reason to bring it up—something she had missed during her initial planting.

Suddenly, Tong Tong turned to Zhao Linong, who was seated nearby, with a question. “Li Nong, do you think these seeds could mutate suddenly?”

Zhao Linong lost in her thoughts, snapped back to attention. “The chances are slim,” she replied. “Didn’t the central base say the seeds were screened and given protective measures?” She referenced a rule in the Pastoral Code, stating that seeds could be carried on public transport, but only after being secured in a special container. This was to prevent accidental mutations during transit, a problem the Ninth Agricultural Base had faced in the past.

Tong Tong sighed, “I’m going to plant them tomorrow. We have to turn the soil again.”

Their class had received a new plot of land for planting this semester, whereas the agricultural students had pulled out their crops from last semester but hadn’t yet been assigned new land.

Just as they were talking, Zhao Linong’s light brain buzzed, signaling a new message. She glanced at it and frowned—it was yet another notification from the city express. Despite not ordering anything recently, she had been receiving these messages since the start of the month, dismissing them as mistakes. However, this time, the express company sent her a photo of a delivery slip, with her name printed on it: Zhao Linong received.

Confused, Zhao Linong decided to go to the express point to collect the mysterious package.

—

At the city express point, the owner tossed the package on the table, visibly annoyed. “This has been here for nearly a month. Why would you fill in this address if you weren’t at the base?”

The owner assumed Zhao Linong had been away for summer vacation. Without bothering to explain, she picked up the package, her eyes scanning the delivery slip. Aside from her name and contact number, the sender’s details caught her attention:

Fenghe, 9th floor, negative 21st floor, Lower City Resettlement, Central Base, 134****9898.

The Central Base? she wondered, growing more puzzled. Instead of opening the package, she called the number listed on the delivery slip.

At 8:19 PM, a video call connected. The screen shook violently before a hand reached out, steadying the device. Finally, a pale, thin woman appeared on the screen, her background dim and her clothes simple and worn. Her hair was slightly disheveled, as though she had rushed to answer the call. Yet, despite her frail appearance, the woman smiled gently at Zhao Linong.

“Xiao Nong, long time no see,” the woman greeted.

Zhao Linong remained silent, her mind racing. She didn’t recognize this woman at all. However, as the woman adjusted her camera, revealing that she was sitting in a wheelchair, her thin legs barely moving, something stirred in Zhao Linong’s memory. The woman’s messy appearance seemed less due to neglect and more to the effort it took to get to the optical computer.

“Are you still angry?” the woman asked softly. “You didn’t even come home for summer vacation.”

“Home?” Zhao Linong was stunned. She had no record of anyone in her contact list—no family, no one.

The woman continued, one hand gripping her thigh tightly as she spoke, “Xiao Nong, Mom was only afraid that you’d become like me. I never meant to stop you from becoming an agricultural student.”

*Mom?* Zhao Linong’s thoughts screeched to a halt. She had a mother?

The woman’s face softened, though she looked as though it took all her strength to maintain her composure. “I know this isn’t the life you want,” she admitted, a flicker of pain crossing her face before she regained her gentle expression. “But I just want you to be safe at the Central Base.”

Then, with a sudden intensity, the woman’s eyes lit up. “Xiao Nong, I won’t stand in your way if you want to pursue your path.” Her voice grew more determined. “Everything important to the Zhao family is now in your hands. I want you to move up.”

What did she want from Zhao Linong? Where was she asking her to go?

As confusion overwhelmed her, Zhao Linong felt like she had been thrust back into the state of disorientation she had felt when she first arrived in this new world, with everything around her foreign and unfamiliar.

The woman coughed, her frail body shaking as she suppressed her discomfort, but she still smiled at Zhao Linong. “Mom will be waiting for you to come pick me up.”

Zhao Linong felt overwhelmed as she held the old record book in her hands. The title—Zhao Family Agricultural Research Materials—echoed in her mind, causing her pulse to quicken. It felt surreal, the weight of her family’s legacy suddenly thrust upon her, a responsibility she hadn’t been prepared for.

She leafed through the pages, noticing the meticulous detail with which planting methods, prevention techniques, and solutions to common crop problems were documented. These weren’t just notes—this was knowledge passed down through generations. The thought that these materials could easily serve as a textbook for the Ninth Agricultural Base made Zhao Linong’s hands tremble slightly.

“I started writing from the day you left,” the woman in the video, Fenghe, said bitterly, her frail fingers motioning to her head. “Mom’s health hasn’t been good. I’m too slow, and I didn’t finish it until last month.”

Fenghe’s voice continued, but Zhao Linong remained silent, processing what she had just learned. The woman—her mother—had suffered from betrayal, and her life changed after someone stole the Zhao family’s research. She had been left physically crippled, yet her memory had held onto what had been taken. And now, everything she remembered, every bit of knowledge, had been written down for Zhao Linong.

“You’re my daughter, Xiao Nong, and these research materials from the Zhao family are yours now.” Fenghe’s tone became stern, her eyes pleading. “After you’ve read them, destroy the book. Don’t let it fall into the hands of outsiders.”

Zhao Linong closed the notebook, her mind whirling. Generations of her family’s research, a forgotten legacy, was now hers to protect. “Generations of research materials?” she finally asked, her voice low but steady.

Fenghe nodded, her frail form barely able to hold the gravity of her words. “Yes, the Zhao family held a significant place among researchers during the mutation years. Everything you learn, everything you know, comes from our family’s legacy.”

Zhao Linong absorbed the information, her mind racing. She had always felt out of place in this world, unsure of where she fit. Now, she had a clearer picture—her roots, her family’s history, and the reason for the strange express deliveries.

“I didn’t tell you earlier because I was ashamed,” Fenghe continued, coughing weakly. “I felt I wasn’t worthy of the Zhao name after what happened. I even gave up my surname. But you, Xiao Nong—your surname is Zhao. You are meant to carry on this legacy.”

Zhao Linong’s thoughts circled back to the name on the express slip. The mysterious sender had now revealed herself. “…Your name is Zhao Fenghe?” she asked quietly.

Fenghe’s eyes softened with a touch of nostalgia. “Yes, that was my name once.”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, and Zhao Linong’s grip tightened on the notebook. The answers she had been searching for, the confusion and doubt, had all stemmed from this hidden truth. If only she had received this express earlier, she might have been able to take action sooner.

But as she sat there, staring at the notebook, she realized that it wasn’t too late. There was still time to embrace this legacy and use the knowledge within to move forward. And though it was strange to think of having a mother in this world—a world that had once felt foreign—Zhao Linong now understood that she wasn’t entirely alone.

With renewed determination, she nodded to herself, ready to face whatever came next.

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