Chapter 211: A Subtle Exchange in the Face of Xiang Rain

While the other lords fired off a barrage of questions, Li Si singled out Xia Qing and pressed her for an answer. No one found this strange. Even before Li Si got caught, she’d always been interested in Xia Qing—or more precisely, whatever mysterious crops thrived in Xia Qing’s territory.

Xia Qing responded calmly, “Out of all the seeds I drew from the Produce Trade Fair, only the sunflowers—even more than the corn—grow the tallest and sturdiest.”

The bulkier and taller a plant’s stalk, the harder it is to deal with once it undergoes Xiang Evolution. Xia Qing’s answer was flawless.

Before Li Si could ask anything else, Zhang San chimed in lazily, “Captain Tan, did you do a surprise inspection of Territory Nine this month?”

Everyone fell silent.

Tan Junjie answered seriously, “Not yet.”

“Good.” Zhang San’s tone held a teasing edge. “Remember to let me know before you go, will you?”

Yep, Zhang San hadn’t changed at all—he clearly still had it out for Li Si. With Zhang San keeping a close eye on things, Li Si couldn’t get away with anything shady. The rest of the lords could relax and focus on their crops, bracing for the next Xiang Rain.

Li Si shot back coldly, proposing a deal. “Third Brother, can I swap fifteen grams of your special third batch hemostatics? If you come by, take any plant you fancy from my greenhouse.”

There was bad blood between Territory Seven and Territory Nine. Would Zhang San agree?

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see whether the notoriously petty Zhang San would respond.

Zhang San asked in a half-hearted tone, “How many plants?”

Li Si had no clue about points and promptly went offline. Nine’s assistant, Liu, stepped up—gentle and professional, “Lord Zhang, our lord had an urgent matter and asked me to handle the exchange. Would three plants be all right?”

A few pens over, Xia Qing absentmindedly stroked Boss Sheep and said, “I’m guessing Assistant Liu booted Li Si out of the negotiation.”

Zhang San replied just as lazily, “Fifteen plants.”

Knowing Zhang San’s temper, Assistant Liu didn’t bargain. “Of course. Thank you, Lord Zhang. Would it be all right if we fetched the medicine right away?”

Being in such a rush for the medicine meant someone in Territory Nine was hurt badly—so badly, no ordinary medicine would work. But who was it? Li Si? Xia Qing narrowed her eyes, switching from Boss Sheep’s wool to the thinner fur of the Wolves, deep in thought.

Zhang San’s answer came. “Dig up fifteen of those black-flowered plants from the middle section of your easternmost greenhouse. Make sure they’re healthy and bring them roots and all.”

Assistant Liu paused for a few seconds before responding with that same gentle air, “Understood. Thank you, Lord Zhang. We’ll dig them up now and have them over at the Territory Seven signpost in fifteen minutes.”

That brief silence told Xia Qing just how much Assistant Liu hated parting with those black-flowered plants. Zhang San must’ve targeted something really valuable.

Which plant had black flowers and was worth so much? Xia Qing combed through her memories, finally recalling two rare evolved plants that had once been posted for a reward at the Safe Zone’s Mission Hall:

Musclebone Herb and Black Bat Flower.

If Zhang San wanted either of those, no wonder Liu was so reluctant. But it just emphasized how precious Zhang San’s special hemostatic medicine really was.

The batch of special medicine Li Si was after wasn’t the same type the other lords got by trading greenlight crops or animals with Zhang San.

Xia Qing jotted a careful note about this new lead in her notebook, then jumped into planning out her next three days. She wasn’t about to let anything slip through the cracks.

Halfway through writing, she got a call from Luo Pei. “Xia Qing, is there something weird going on with your sunflowers?”

Luo Pei was laid up in Plot One and rarely visited Territory Three, so she had no idea what Xia Qing had been dealing with.

Xia Qing said, “Tests show a bunch of my sunflowers have Xiang element levels above 0.1 percent. I’m worried when the Xiang Rain falls, they’ll be at risk for Xiang Evolution.”

The line between yellowlight and redlight plants is 0.15 percent Xiang. Anything above that hits redlight status, and between 0.05 and 0.15 is yellowlight.

With seventy hours of non-stop Xiang Rain looming, the Xiang element in the air would only rise. When the roots, stalks and leaves take in too much, once their internal balance teeters, they can’t flush the excess out fast enough. Then, greenlight crops turn yellow. Yellowlight turn red.

Redlight crops aren’t guaranteed to undergo Xiang Evolution, but they’re far more likely than yellowlight or greenlight ones. And even if redlight crops in the greenhouse don’t evolve, they’re useless for eating and must be culled. If they bloom, their pollen can cross with yellow or greenlight crops, ruining seed quality.

Only cotton’s exempt—no one plants that to eat anyway.

Luo Pei saw Xia Qing’s point and replied, “Our planting crew mentioned the same thing. We’re planning to uproot any sunflowers with Xiang content over 0.13 percent before the rain starts.”

“Smart plan. I’ll do the same and pull mine out,” said Xia Qing.

Then Luo Pei checked, “Are you planning to use Yi Stones? Want me to warn Hu Zifeng in advance?”

Hu Zifeng’s squad had no clue she had Yi Stones and Xia Qing meant to keep it that way. “Just two little stones. I’ll use ’em to shield my greenlight spinach and rice. Already cut holes in the greenhouse supports for both plots—no one’ll spot ’em.”

When the call ended, Xia Qing sketched a bold line under her freshly-written ‘pull the dangerous sunflowers’ to-do.

The explanation she gave Li Si was just the surface—Luo Pei only got part of the truth too. The real reason for Xia Qing’s obsession with sunflowers? That, she’d tell no one.

The reason she’d grilled Li Si about the risk of Xiang Evolution in sunflowers was because several in her own fields were acting strangely—far stranger than she’d admit.

Back at the Produce Trade Fair, Xia Qing spent points trading for two hundred yellowlight sunflower seeds. She planted them in her terraced fields and on a hillside plot—yielding 120 sunflowers, ninety in the terraces, thirty under greenhouse cover.

Luck was on her side: of those 120, two turned out to be greenlight sunflowers—one in the terraces, one under the greenhouse.

As with all greenlight crops, she tied a bold red thread around both so they’d stand out. Pest control, fertilizer, weeding—she pampered them through it all.

Half a month ago, Xia Qing noticed the greenlight sunflower in her field—along with several neighbors—wasn’t growing as fast or as tall as the others.

That shouldn’t have happened. Greenlight plants always get the best water and fertilizer. They’re supposed to be thriving.

Looking closer, she found a yellowlight sunflower among these laggards that felt… off.

At first, she blamed ‘weakness,’ expecting it to have slipped down to redlight status. But tests said this yellowlight’s Xiang content was just 0.07 percent—a safe distance from the danger zone.

It looked normal. On the surface, it was just a regular yellowlight sunflower. But Xia Qing couldn’t shake the sense that something about it was fundamentally wrong.