Chapter 118: Mistaken Encounters and Shifting Boundaries

On the Lord’s Channel, Tang Zhengbo from Plot Twelve began sharing his peanut recipe: “No oil needed—just toss the cleaned peanuts straight into the pan. Stir them over a low flame for three or four minutes. Once the skins rub off halfway, they’re done. Let them cool, remove the skins, winnow them out, then crush the peanuts using a flour mill…”

As soon as Tang Zhengbo finished, Zhao Ze chimed in, “Truly impressive, Director Tang. Even something as simple as peanut butter becomes an art under your guidance.”

Before the apocalypse, Director Tang dominated the business world. Now he was stuck in his territory, reduced to teaching them how to make peanut butter. Was that really so praiseworthy? Zhao Ze’s compliment missed the mark and sounded a bit sarcastic.

Having finished her noodles, Xia Qing pressed the button. “Director Tang, would roasting the peanuts a little longer make the peanut butter taste better?”

Tang Zhengbo spoke in an unhurried, pleasant tone. “You’re right, Xia Qing. That’s something I overlooked. Before the disaster, we used a gentle flame mainly to keep the peanut flavor from overpowering the other seasonings. But now we’re short on spices, so it’s actually better to roast them until all the skins come off—that way, the flavor will be richer.”

“Thank you, Director Tang,” Xia Qing said sincerely.

Xia Qing held a grudge against Tang Sufeng but not Tang Zhengbo. Tang Zhengbo always had a great reputation as a businessman before things went south. Even after Tang Sufeng forced him out, he and his daughter Tang Ning still ran Tang’s Restaurant with honesty. If Xia Qing hadn’t been worried about being recognized by Tang Sufeng, she would’ve applied there herself, learned a few practical cooking skills, and made life a bit sweeter.

Suddenly, Li Si spoke up. “Xia Qing, I remember you once asked if peanut vines could be composted. You have peanuts in your territory too, right?”

Xia Qing had never mentioned the peanuts in Plot Three on the Lord’s Channel.

Unfazed, she pressed the button. “You have a great memory, Si-jie. I did find two small patches of redlight peanuts in my territory, over eighty plants in total. More than half of them underwent Xiang Evolution during the second Xiang Rain. The rest also absorbed more Xiang elements. After you mentioned composting, I pulled them all up to add to the compost pile.”

Li Si didn’t say anything more, and the topic naturally shifted to the seeds and seedlings everyone just received from the Safe Zone.

After washing the dishes, Xia Qing wandered over to the low slope plantings with Boss Sheep. She moved the big stone blocking the spring, filled a bucket with water, and had Boss Sheep—who was munching grass near the stone cave—stand guard. Then she headed to the highland to check if the passionfruit and Sichuan pepper seedlings she’d planted last night had wilted in the sun.

She’d just reached the old barrier when footsteps echoed from the west. Just one person. Their steps were soft and unhurried, as if they were scouting something.

Xia Qing ducked behind a tree and listened closely.

At the fork where Plot One and Plot Three met the northern barrier, the person stopped for a few seconds—then, amazingly, walked right into Plot Three. Entering a territory without the lord’s permission? That was reason enough to shoot.

Still, she had to figure out this person’s intent first. Xia Qing pressed her gun close, prepared for anything, but then the intruder stopped less than ten meters away, their breathing suddenly ragged. They must have sensed her presence—maybe a Scent Evolver.

Xia Qing raised her gun slowly, ready to pull the trigger.

“I was just passing through on my way to gather firewood. I didn’t mean to enter your territory.” The intruder’s voice was calm as she explained herself.

It was a woman, young by the sound of it. Xia Qing waited a few moments, then stepped out from behind the tree, her gun trained on the stranger. “You’re already in my territory.”

Seeing the gun, the woman—dressed in a protective suit—lifted her machete defensively. Still composed, she replied, “You’re Xia Qing, the lord of Plot Three? I’m the lord of Plot Eight. Where I’m standing is still in the barrier. It’s not your territory.”

So this was the elusive lord of Plot Eight, the one who never spoke up on the Lord’s Channel? She’d only gotten her walkie-talkie after the second Xiang Rain and likely had the original territory map. No wonder she didn’t realize the highland now belonged to Plot Three—easy enough to accidentally wander across the new lines.

Xia Qing kept her weapon at the ready but let most of her killing intent fade. She explained, “This used to be the barrier, but now it’s been absorbed into my territory. If you head north from the fork, that’s the current barrier.”

“I honestly didn’t know—sorry.” The woman thanked her, still keeping her machete raised as she slowly retreated from Plot Three, then turned north at the fork.

When she was finally out of sight, Xia Qing lowered her gun and pulled the machete from her back. Uncle Huo had warned her it was too battered from cat scratches to last much longer, but she couldn’t bear to throw it away. She kept it for chopping firewood instead.

Nobody but the Inspection Team and Ji Li ever used the northern barrier, and they all knew the highland was Xia Qing’s. That’s why she’d never bothered to block off the old barrier at the east and west ends.

But that had been careless. Since there was a weakness, it was time to fix it. She cut down two thigh-thick saplings and dragged them across the western fork leading into the old barrier, blocking that path. As she headed to the eastern fork to do the same, another set of footsteps reached her ears.

After a moment, the woman from before reappeared, following the barrier past the Wild Boar Breeding Center along Plot Three’s edge.

Xia Qing frowned. The breeding center had its own northern barrier. Why avoid it, circling all the way around her territory? Was this lord just that bad with directions—or was she up to something?

The firewood excuse felt pretty flimsy too. Even if Plot Eight had no woods or buffer forest, with a thousand acres, there had to be plenty of trees. Why take such a risk just to chop firewood?

Still, the Wild Boar Breeding Center had been allocated to the Azure Dragon Unit by the Safe Zone and wasn’t officially part of Xia Qing’s land. The woman could walk there as much as she pleased—no matter how close she got, it wasn’t trespassing and Xia Qing had no grounds to interfere.

Before long, the two women met at the fork, each carrying a machete and standing about the same height. Xia Qing looked a bit stronger, both as a Strength Evolver and with the bigger blade.

Unlike earlier, the other woman barely nodded before continuing east along the barrier, her back fully exposed to Xia Qing.

Ten years into the apocalypse—who in their right mind would casually turn their back on an armed stranger?

This woman was either incredibly strong or hopelessly naive. When she’d gone, Xia Qing chopped down a tree and dragged it across the eastern fork to block off any more ‘accidental’ entries into Plot Three.

Her territory wasn’t fenced or wired off. If someone wanted in, it was easy. But trespassing meant putting your life in the lord’s hands—anyone without enough power stayed clear, and anyone strong enough wouldn’t care about the small-time loot here or risk being hunted by The Base. For now, her land was safe.

Still, it was worth asking Hu Zifeng’s squad to start patrolling around the borders.

Xia Qing crossed the highland planting zone and reached the big Chinquapin Tree.

Even though the highland sat above the rest, its soil was deep enough for apple, jujube, passionfruit, and Sichuan pepper seedlings—all of which she’d planted here. There were only five fruit trees; although the Chinese toon and pepper trees had greenlights, they didn’t bear fruit and didn’t count. Still, Xia Qing decided to give this spot a name: Green Orchard.

Only the two self-pest-fighting jujube trees carried more than a hundred green dates. If she wanted real fruit freedom, she’d need to keep planting: loquat, orange, pear, plum—she wanted them all. After ten years of disaster, she could hardly recall the taste of fruit.

Both the Sichuan pepper and passionfruit seedlings looked a little wilted but not dead. They’d recover. Xia Qing relaxed.

A rhythm of footsteps grew louder. Xia Qing strolled toward the edge of her territory to meet them.