Chapter 78: When Everything Goes Wrong, It Pours

If you ever wondered what it means for disaster to pile on top of disaster, this is it.

“I’m on my way.”

Xia Qing stepped outside, squinting under the harsh beam of the floodlight. She spotted from afar—the rainproof tarp covering the spinach field on the north side of the riverbank had already torn open. Three arching support rods jutted straight up, like three middle fingers thrust toward the sky.

Damn it! Couldn’t those spinach seeds mature at any other time? Of course they had to pick now.

She bit back another curse, forcing herself to stay calm, then dashed north with Boss Sheep at her side.

Crossing the river, Xia Qing barely slowed as she slapped away a few leaping river creatures trying to attack. She dashed right beneath the damaged rainproof shelter in the low fields.

A flustered Chen Zheng fumbled to explain, “Qing-jie, this was all my fault. I brushed past the spinach by accident while walking through the terraces and suddenly everything just exploded!”

He wasn’t kidding. The carnage all around—completely thanks to the spinach seed bombs going off.

Honestly, Xia Qing couldn’t blame Chen Zheng. Zhang San had warned her—you only have to yank off a leaf when the seeds are mature for them to fire. That’s what she’d reminded Chen Zheng too. But who could’ve guessed the spinach growing in their territory would blow up at the slightest touch? “The seeds were supposed to mature any day now anyway. Are you hurt?”

Chen Zheng shook his head so hard his protective mask went crooked. “I’m fine! What do we do now?”

Chen Zheng was a squad fighter, never handled chores like this before. He had no clue how to clean up such a mess.

Xia Qing gave orders right away. “Grab the rainproof tarp from over there and cover the spinach stalks. I’ll fix the frame.”

“Got it,” Chen Zheng answered, hurrying off to lug the tarp over.

Once the two of them had patched up the shelter and cleared out dozens of evolved Xiang insects that had gotten inside, Chen Zheng looked even more apologetic. “Take a break, Qing-jie. I’ll check on the upper field and come back to pick up the fallen seeds.”

While Chen Zheng went to inspect the upper shelters, Xia Qing grabbed her sprayer and blasted insecticide outside the low slope shelter in every direction, driving away swarms of evolved insects drawn to the seeds. Then she knelt in the muddy ground, combing through the Xiang grass to collect spinach seeds scattered outside the tarp.

If she didn’t do it now, it would be even harder to find them once it started raining again.

Every buried seed got picked up—ones shot into the Xiang grass stems were dug out, others wedged into tree bark or stone crevices pried free.

After Chen Zheng finished checking the upper shelter, he came back to help pick up seeds, and Da Jiang, making his patrol rounds, joined them too.

Working together, all three managed to gather every seed they could before the next wave of Xiang rain—or another insect attack—could hit.

The seeds inside the shelter? No time to worry about those for now. They’d just have to stay covered.

Morning crept in bit by bit. By eleven, the sun—missing for what seemed like an eternity—finally broke through the clouds, spilling golden light everywhere.

The second Xiang rain of the Tenth Year was finally over after a grueling fifty hours. Exhausted, the lords collapsed on the ground, some numb, some weeping, others laughing—or trapped somewhere in between.

Xia Qing just felt numb. She was too worn out, too sore, to feel anything else.

After Da Jiang and the other two confirmed that no more plants were showing aggressive Xiang mutations, they offered to help clean up the spinach field too. But they’d already done more than enough, so Xia Qing insisted they go rest.

Dragging herself and Boss Sheep—limping all the way—back to her room, Xia Qing shook as she removed both their protective masks. She set out food and water for Boss Sheep, swallowed two painkillers with a swig of nutrient solution, set a timer for one hour, and collapsed without moving again.

Boss Sheep finished his feed, too spent to even chew his cud. He let his head drop across Xia Qing’s legs and fell asleep.

An hour later, Xia Qing crawled out of bed, only half revived. Aching all over, she forced herself up to open the shelter vents and let the plants finally breathe fresh air after two long, stifling days.

The air still carried more Xiang element than usual because it had just rained, but Xia Qing had to open the vents. She didn’t have any oxygen equipment for the shelter, and keeping them sealed too long was bad for the plants’ growth.

Next, notepad in hand, Xia Qing tallied up the damage from this second round of Xiang rain.

Territory Three lost: 300 stalks of wheat, 240 mung beans, 220 cotton plants, 50 cuttings of sweet potato seedling, 40 yellow-light potatoes, 6 green-light sweet potatoes, 5 yellowlight pumpkins, 2 yellow-light eggplants, 2 yellow cucumbers, and 1 yellow-light tomato.

The eggplant, cucumber, and tomato mutated because the exploding spinach blew open the tarp, letting the evolved insects inside to gnaw on the plants.

Most of the potato casualties? Blame it on those four aggressive Xiangified potatoes that trashed over twenty normal potato plants.

Losing a quarter of the sweet potato cuttings was about what Xia Qing expected. The rest of the crops weren’t hit too badly, which let her breathe a sigh of relief as she dragged herself to keep salvaging spinach seeds.

Thankfully, she’d already followed Zhang San’s advice, barricading the spinach field with four layers of rainproof tarp and only leaving the top open. That let in enough sunlight and air for normal growth. So when the spinach seeds exploded this time, most were stopped by the tarps—only up top did seeds get loose. If not for those precautions, it could’ve been a hundred times worse.

So picking up the seeds wasn’t too hard now.

Xia Qing peeled away the tarp from the spinach terraces, checked that every plant was still glowing green-light, and let out a long, relieved breath.

If the plants stayed green-light after the explosion, it meant these seeds belonged to the green-light batch. The only unknown was whether exposure to the Xiang rain as the seeds blasted out would affect them.

Logically, it shouldn’t. The hard shell of the spinach seed ought to keep the Xiang element from soaking in. A brief exposure isn’t enough to reach the embryo inside.

Each green-light seed was worth twenty points—the same as four days of hard labor in the Safe Zone construction crew. She couldn’t afford to lose even one.

Any seeds trapped in soil? She shovelled the soil, sacked it up, and hauled it home to dry and sort later. If they were stuck in tarps or jammed into the support framework, she pried out every last one.

An hour later, Xia Qing loaded up a sack onto Boss Sheep’s back and hauled another one herself. Together, limping a little, they brought the dirt and seeds home through the Xiang grass.

First thing, she lugged both sacks up to the second floor living room, spreading the soil out on the sunny balcony to dry. The balcony was protected by glass, so no birds or insects could sneak in to steal the seeds.

Too tired to stand, Xia Qing plucked the last two strawberries—one for her, one for Boss Sheep.

The strawberries were so delicious that Xia Qing felt her energy return in an instant.

She forced herself to ignore the pain and checked every corner of her home and warehouse for snakes, bugs, rats, or ants that might have chewed through the walls or roof. Only after confirming all was safe, she left the damaged solar panel on the roof for later and got to work making dinner.

Tonight’s meal was cornmeal spinach porridge with compressed rations on the side.

She ate the spinach leaves and tender stems—the ones riddled with seed holes. The tougher stems and roots she chopped up with some compressed rations for Boss Sheep’s special feed.

With full bellies, Xia Qing and Boss Sheep dropped off to sleep the moment they lay down.

Should she put medicine on her whip wounds? Not a chance—not enough strength left.

Take a bath? She could only dream. Way too tired.

The next time Xia Qing opened her eyes, it was already six the following morning—and Boss Sheep was gone from the room.

Even as a Level 6 Hearing Evolver, she’d missed hearing when Boss Sheep got up. That jolted Xia Qing: If anyone—or any evolved beast—had attacked her overnight, she’d have died eight hundred times by now.

She could not let something like that happen again. Ever.

As she sat up and got dressed, Xia Qing noticed something: the whip marks left by those dancing potato vines didn’t hurt nearly as much.

A potato vine’s lashing strength was nothing to sneeze at—it hit as hard as a level three Strength Evolver. She should’ve been in agony for a week even with medicine. How could two painkillers make her feel this much better?