“Do you know her?” Li Zhenzhang’s tone softened slightly. After all, the person he was speaking to was the most respected figure in the current guard army, not to mention the significant family background behind him.
Ye Changming didn’t answer directly. Instead, he lowered his eyes and said, “Team Leader Yan and Dean Zhou should know her.”
“Zhao Linong… I remember now,” Zhou Qianli said after a pause. The name sounded familiar, and it finally clicked. “Her grandfather is Zhao Xian, one of the earliest researchers.”
Sitting in the conference room, Yan Shengbian logged into the Central Official Forum. After scanning through all the bounty questions that Zhao Linong had answered, he looked up at Li Zhenzhang and said, “It’s normal for a descendant of Researcher Zhao to answer these questions.”
Li Zhenzhang felt a lump in his throat. She was a researcher’s descendant?
Though the name Zhao Xian wasn’t particularly famous, since he was a first-generation researcher, it meant that his strength must be good.
“Dean Zhou, let’s take a look at your student’s answers,” Yan Shengbian said, raising his hand. Suddenly, dozens of small split screens rose in the middle of the conference table, forming a circle so the researchers in the room could view them.
Although Zhou Qianli specialized in animal studies and wasn’t as knowledgeable about plants as the other researchers, Zhao Linong was a student of the Ninth Agricultural Base—and, technically, his student.
As he flipped through the light screens, Zhou Qianli was shocked. How many questions had this student answered in one night?
The other researchers had similarly baffled expressions, their hands growing sore from scrolling. No wonder Shan Yun said that this student slaughtered all the bounty boards.
Not sleeping, answering questions like mad on the forum—what kind of student was this?
“This student covers a broad range of topics,” Yan Shengbian remarked, flipping through the screens faster than the others. “But the foundation is very solid.”
Researchers on the forum had slightly more permissions than regular users. While Yan Shengbian didn’t open the backend permissions to view specific answers, he could directly see which users the bounty holders had selected.
Most researchers leaned toward specialized fields, but Yan Shengbian could instantly tell that the questions Zhao Linong answered spanned the basics of every subject.
He was certain: this was an exceptional agricultural student.
“Researcher No. 40?” Shan Yun, lazily leaning back in her chair, suddenly spotted an ID on one of the pages. She turned to Luo Fanxue, seated nearby, and asked in surprise, “Xiao Luo, did you compete with that student for answers?”
Luo Fanxue stiffened, immediately recalling what had happened that night. After a brief moment, she nodded. “Yes, Planting Officer No. 34 didn’t choose my answer.”
“They didn’t choose your answer?” Li Zhenzhang’s curiosity was piqued.
Not just him—everyone in the conference room was intrigued.
As the youngest researcher in the room, Luo Fanxue had grown up under their watchful eyes. Her talent was undisputed. While she still had room to grow, given two or three years, she’d undoubtedly be able to lead on her own.
Though forum identities were anonymous, it was hard to imagine a planting officer rejecting a researcher’s answer.
Yan Shengbian dismissed the other split screens, leaving only the question in front of Shan Yun visible for all to see.
After reading the bounty question, he turned to Luo Fanxue. “How did you answer?”
Luo Fanxue repeated her response. She had considered reaching out to Zhao Linong through Yan Jingshui that night but got too busy with Shan Yun’s team to follow up.
“There’s nothing wrong with this answer,” Li Zhenzhang said, frowning. “The medicine is clearly outlined.”
Yan Shengbian looked at Luo Fanxue. “What do you think the other party’s answer might have been?”
“…Maybe they listed all the possible medicine combinations?”
Luo Fanxue occasionally replayed this moment in her mind before sleeping. She regretted not taking the question more seriously at the time.
“Is that so?” Yan Shengbian said, turning to Zhou Qianli. “Dean Zhou, can we contact this student, classmate Zhao, and ask her directly?”
Zhou Qianli was stunned, quickly realizing that Yan Shengbian was trying to guide Luo Fanxue.
He contacted the director, who in turn reached out to Kang Anru. Eventually, they obtained Zhao Linong’s contact information. Instead of sending a message, they used the public optical computer in the conference room to initiate a video call with her.
Zhou Qianli had his reasons. He wanted to showcase this Ninth Agricultural Base student to the researchers, especially Yan Shengbian. If Zhao Linong left an impression, it could benefit her future development greatly.
However, it took nearly a minute of waiting time for Zhao Linong on the other side to connect the video.
The picture was still shaking. Zhao Linong had just finished selling goods at the trading market. Halfway through riding the three-wheeled motorcycle, she had stopped in an open space to take the call.
When the video connected, she was distractedly picking leaves off her clothes.
Everyone in the conference room could see her.
In the distance, a vast field of rice swayed in the wind, and there was a three-wheeled motorcycle parked nearby. The young girl on the screen had her head slightly lowered. Her clothes were stained with gray-yellow patches, her cuffs and chest dirty, and her hands covered with dust and mud.
What stood out, however, were her surprisingly clean and composed eyes when she raised her head.
Shan Yun stared at the screen and didn’t know what she thought. She turned back to look at Yan Shengbian. The two… had a similar temperament.
Zhou Qianli coughed, breaking the silence. “You’re Zhao Linong?”
Everyone in the room watched closely as the girl on the screen nodded slightly.
Luo Fanxue finally saw what Zhao Linong looked like. Subconsciously, she glanced at Ye Changming, standing nearby, wondering when he had come to know her.
Ye Changming’s expression remained calm, giving nothing away.
“…Dean?” Zhao Linong asked hesitantly, looking at Zhou Qianli.
Zhao Linong had met Zhou Qianli once in the audience, but he had changed so much that she didn’t recognize him at first.
“This is the leader of the Central Agricultural Research Institute, Yan Shengbian,” Zhou Qianli nodded and got straight to the point. “He has some questions for you.”
Zhao Linong paused, her hand still picking at a leaf, before looking at the screen calmly.
The conference room was packed. Apart from Zhou Qianli, she recognized only three people: Yan Shengbian, Luo Fanxue, and Ye Changming.
Usually, at such high-level meetings of researchers, there would be a team of alien killers guarding to prevent accidents.
At this moment, the other members of the team were waiting at the door, but Ye Changming, who had a special identity, could come in.
Zhao Linong’s attention fell on Yan Shengbian in the middle. He was considered the top researcher in the central base. She was a little nervous and couldn’t help but wonder whether she had exposed herself.
Yan Shengbian nodded and displayed the question from Planting Officer No. 34 on the screen. He spoke gently. “Student Zhao, we’d like to know how you answered this question.”
He added, “A researcher also answered it and would like to discuss it with you.”
Li Zhenzhang sat at the conference table, feeling dissatisfied.
Yan Shengbian sometimes did things in a procrastinating way. She was just a student. He could have just used his authority to get the details from her. But, he had taken a long route.
It was a pity that he did not have such high authority, otherwise he would have called it out long ago.
Zhao Linong on the opposite side had already calmed down and told the answer truthfully. She answered calmly. These were the basics so there should be no problems.
Besides, the people in the conference room seemed to be mostly curious.
She answered in a clear and organized manner.
Yan Shengbian listened to Zhao Linong’s answer, looked at her for a while, and then asked Luo Fanxue: “Did you understand?”
Luo Fanxue was silent for a while, and slowly said: “…I only mentioned the treatment.”
“Prevention and treatment—prevention comes first,” Yan Shengbian said. “Xiao Luo, it’s important to think beyond the treatments and understand the pathogenesis. That’s the essence of studying plant mutations.”
Turning to Zhao Linong, he added with a rare note of approval, “You answered very well.”
Zhou Qianli, noticing Zhao Linong’s lack of response, nudged her anxiously. “Team Leader Yan is praising you.”
Zhao Linong finally reacted. “…Thank you, Team Leader Yan.”
“Which class are you in?” Yan Shengbian asked.
Lately, Yan Shengbian was busy studying plant mutations, so he didn’t have time to read the weekly diary sent by his daughter. He didn’t know which Zhao Linong was in.
“A freshman in Class C of Agronomy,” she replied.
The whole conference room was stunned.
Shan Yun raised her hand lifted the bright red cape that was about to slide down, and spoke first: “Why are you in Class C?”
“Didn’t you take the exam?” Yan Shengbian asked Zhao Linong again.
Zhao Linong didn’t remember anything from before she gained consciousness. Feng He hadn’t given her the information at that time, so she probably couldn’t take the exam, so she shook her head: “No.”
“Dean Li.” Yan Shengbian suddenly looked at Li Zhenzhang, “Is there a planting officer assessment at the end of the year?”
After graduating from the Ninth Agricultural Base and being assigned to various bases, the planters can come to the central base to take the planting officer assessment at the end of each year. Once they pass the assessment, they can get a planting officer number and a work badge. However, the number was not large. Thousands of planters took the assessment, but in the end, fifty-something planting officers passed.
Li Zhenzhang frowned: “…Yes.”
“Student Zhao, I recommend you take the planting officer exam,” Yan Shengbian said seriously.
“No,” Li Zhenzhang rejected immediately. “She’s still a freshman, not even a planter yet. According to central regulations, she cannot take the exam across levels.”
The meeting room fell silent.
Shan Yun tutted impatiently, leaning heavily on her chair, which creaked loudly in protest.
Yan Shengbian’s expression remained gentle. “Student Zhao’s abilities are evident to everyone here. With the strange developments in plant mutations, no one knows what challenges the future holds. The Central Agricultural Research Institute needs exceptional agricultural talent to join us in studying mutant plants.”
“I agree,” Shan Yun chimed in.
“You agree to everything,” Li Zhenzhang snapped, glaring at Shan Yun before turning to Yan Shengbian with barely suppressed frustration. “Team Leader Yan, it was you who proposed the rule against cross-level exams. You said that at a minimum, candidates must begin as planters and pass the planter officer assessment before advancing. And now, you want to make an exception?”
Over the years, many at the central base had harbored dissatisfaction towards Yan Shengbian. He had once taken the researcher exam through a family quota, but once he succeeded, he closed that path for others, ensuring no exceptions for any family.
Their lingering bitterness had lessened over time, but moments like these reignited old grievances.
Yan Shengbian’s tone remained gentle. “Times have changed with these new plant mutations, and we need to adjust accordingly. Student Zhao’s capabilities are clear, and she has the potential to make valuable contributions to the base in the future.”
“I disagree,” Li Zhenzhang countered. “Team Leader Yan, the Central Agricultural Research Institute isn’t a one-man show.”
“What does Dean Li suggest?” Yan Shengbian asked.
“A vote,” Li Zhenzhang proposed. “All senior researchers should cast their votes.”
“I agree,” a researcher in the room immediately said.
Shan Yun stood up. “A vote is fine.”
There were currently nine senior researchers at the Central Agricultural Research Institute. Researchers No. 1 through No. 9 held voting rights, while Researcher No. 10’s position was temporarily vacant.
Only four senior researchers—Yan Shengbian, Shan Yun, Li Zhenzhang, and Zhou Qianli—were present at the meeting. The rest were conducting research in various cities outside the base and hadn’t returned in months.
“Let’s bring them in via video call,” Li Zhenzhang said, contacting the senior researchers one by one.
A few minutes later, Senior Researchers No. 7, No. 8, and No. 9 joined the call. Researchers No. 2 and No. 5 were unavailable.
Shan Yun raised her hand first. “I vote in favor of allowing Zhao Linong to take the cross-level assessment.”
Yan Shengbian and Zhou Qianli both followed with votes in favor.
“I disagree,” Li Zhenzhang said firmly.
Senior Researcher No. 7, Yao Xuzhi: “I disagree.”
Senior Researcher No. 8, Peng Boping: “I disagree.”
Senior Researcher No. 9, Cao Wenyao: “I don’t agree either.”
With four votes against and three in favor, the result seemed clear.
Just then, the communication line for Researcher No. 2 connected, and a handsome man in his forties wearing a military uniform appeared on the screen. “What’s this about?”
Yan Shengbian repeated the proposal.
Without hesitation, the man said, “I agree,” and promptly ended the call.
Li Zhenzhang complained in his heart, but he didn’t dare to show it on his face: “There’s still one vote left.”
All eyes turned to Luo Fanxue, seated at the end of the conference table.
Senior Researcher No. 5, Luo Lianyu, had been working in a lab outside the base for years and rarely returned. Since the previous year, if she couldn’t vote in time, her daughter, Junior Researcher Luo Fanxue, was allowed to cast her vote on her behalf.
“Xiao Luo, what’s your vote?” Yan Shengbian asked.
Luo Fanxue glanced at the screen, where Zhao Linong sat quietly, her eyes lowered, as though the debate had nothing to do with her.
“Xiao Luo?” Yan Shengbian called again.
“Researcher Luo, you don’t have to feel pressured,” Li Zhenzhang interjected. “If you don’t think this is right, then don’t agree.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Luo Fanxue looked up and said seriously, “The Luo family votes in favor.”
“Look, none of them…” Li Zhenzhang started, then froze mid-sentence as her words registered. His face paled. “Your mother would have voted against it!”
Luo Fanxue remained calm. “I believe Team Leader Yan is correct. Exceptional individuals should be allowed to take the assessment early.”
Li Zhenzhang and some other researchers looked extremely ugly.
Let alone the planting officers, the Central Academy of Agricultural Sciences can make an exception and recruit as many junior researchers as they want. It’s not like they can’t accommodate them. But Yan Shengbian blocked their way back then, and now he wants to make an exception and squeeze in people. How can it be that simple?
“Fine,” Li Zhenzhang changed his words, “You can take the assessment at the end of the year, but you must achieve an excellent rating. If not, forget about skipping levels to become a planting officer.”
Privately, he resolved to make the exam questions especially difficult this year. After all, the assessments were designed by intermediate researchers from the Yao, Li, Peng, and Cao families.
Yan Shengbian turned to Zhao Linong. “Student Zhao, if you wish to take the cross-level exam and obtain the planting officer certification, you’ll need to achieve an excellent score. Are you willing?”
Zhao Linong stared at the ground under her feet and said nothing.
Zhou Qianli couldn’t wait any longer, and answered for her directly: “This child is too excited and can’t speak. She is willing.”
Zhao Linong: “…”
Everyone else: “…”
“That concludes today’s meeting,” Yan Shengbian announced, standing up and signaling for everyone to leave.
The researchers filed out of the room.
Zhao Linong looked up and accidentally met Ye Changming’s eyes, who was standing sideways behind Yan Shengbian.
Though they didn’t know each other and hadn’t exchanged a word, he had once saved her.
She nodded to him.
Ye Changming met her gaze and finally looked away calmly as if he had not seen it.
Luo Fanxue, still lingering in the room, noticed Zhao Linong’s subtle gesture. She stepped closer to the screen and asked, “Do you know him?”
“No,” Zhao Linong replied without hesitation.
They hadn’t spoken a word to each other, and this was the first time they had exchanged glances.
Outside the conference room, Ye Changming overheard her answer. He paused mid-step, recalling the time she had dismissed him with an absentminded “um, um.”
So he turned around again, looked at Zhao Linong in the video, and reminded him: “Base Post Road, I saved you.”
Zhao Linong was stunned. It turned out that he remembered.
“Thank you.” Zhao Linong thanked him solemnly.
“…”
Ye Changming, unaccustomed to this kind of aphasia-inducing interaction with someone other than Wei Li, turned and left without another word.
“You should be able to pass the planting officer assessment at the end of the year.”
After a little hesitation, Luo Fanxue encouraged Zhao Linong, “Don’t be too nervous.”
After everyone left, Zhou Qianli, who was left at the end, looked at Zhao Linong with dissatisfaction and stopped her from hanging up the video call.
“What’s wrong with you?” Zhou Qianli looked at the young agricultural student and frowned and asked, “Team Leader Yan is trying to make an exception for you to take the cross-level exam, and you are in a daze?”
Zhou Qianli worried she’d waste this chance.
Zhou Qianli always wanted the Ninth Agricultural Base to have a researcher in agronomy. Luo Fanxue was not like other researchers who were clinging to their family information, so he, a senior researcher, treated Luo Fanxue, a junior researcher, with unusual courtesy and paid special attention.
The last time Luo Fanxue went to the Ninth Agricultural Base, he did not dare to slack off, hoping that if Luo Fanxue became Senior Researcher No. 10 in the future, she would be willing to guide the agricultural students of the Ninth Agricultural Base.
Now Zhao Linong suddenly appeared, and Yan Shengming made an exception to let her take the cross-level assessment. It was a great opportunity.
But his student was dazed in front of Yan Shengming. Fortunately, Team Leader Yan did not care.
“We have to thank Researcher Luo for this,” he added. Luo Fanxue was indeed not like a member of the Luo family, she was more willing to share her knowledge and provide opportunities for others.
“Too exciting,” Zhao Linong replied evenly.
If not for her calm tone, Zhou Qianli might have believed her.
“If you want to take the researcher exam directly across levels, it’s impossible.” Zhou Qianli thought Zhao Linong was too ambitious, “Even Luo Fanxue passed the exam step by step.”
Zhao Linong listened quietly, her mind had already wandered.
