Cornell University, the best agricultural university in all of America, leads the world in the field of biological ecology research.
Zhou Ziang chose Cornell University precisely because of its influence in biological research; many American agribio companies maintain good cooperative relations with Cornell. Ever since discovering abundant Spiritual Power in mutant plants, Zhou Ziang was no longer satisfied with obtaining Spiritual Power from simple genetically modified fruits and vegetables. His spatial Spiritual Power faced depletion, and by going to the United States, he would more likely utilize the scientific technology of this world to gain more Spiritual Power, even possibly to remodel his space.
"If I can’t return to Yunteng, then I’ll use these hands to change the pattern of this world," agriculture is the foundation of a country, and this point was also key in Zhou Ziang convincing Zhou Qiang. China’s development relies on its rapidly developing industry, but millennia of backward farming habits and a burgeoning population will sooner or later drag down the country’s development. Zhou Ziang believed that only by using modern technology and mutated spatial Spiritual Power could he save the country.
Yet in Southwest Guizhou, Zhu Xiaoxian was still tirelessly using the most primitive methods to transform her little over half an acre of land.
"This is supposed to be millet? Why’s it so black?" Li Ye utterly refused to believe that the basket of husked millet Zhu Xiaoxian brought back from her early morning class for Shanyin Monk and Taohua was real. The grains looked full indeed, but the surface seemed as if covered with a layer of dust that couldn’t be cleaned off even with washing.
"What do you know, get lost. This is authentic imported rice, get it?" Xiaoxian had been studying for half a year now, and with Zhu Shijun’s deliberate cultivation, she already knew that India was a country, and besides India, there were over two hundred other countries and regions in the world, including the United States, UK, and more. The rice in the field hadn’t been harvested yet; the basket of shelled rice was what Xiaoxian sneakily set aside while Sister-in-law Lian went to the town’s market. After the rice was harvested, the sickle was also automatically transported into the space and became a delicacy for "sugarcane seedling."
"Just keep boasting, imported rice indeed. Taozi, you must absolutely not eat porridge made from this stuff; if you do, you’ll end up both dark and fat, and then no one would want you when you grow up," Within half a year, the baby girl Taozi adopted by Master Shanyin could already crawl. Taozi is a homophonic play on the name "Taohua," and Yezi took it upon himself to rename her.
"What are you talking about? You’re the one who will end up dark and sturdy, and won’t be able to find a wife," Xiaoxian stood with her hands on her hips. She had hurt her hands and feet over this basket of rice, but the growth of the rice was good. She only harvested two bundles before she got caught red-handed by Zhu Shijun. However, the rice she did get, even Zhu Shijun was left speechless; a single plant’s grain-bearing rate reached an astonishing one hundred and fifty grains—definitely a high-yield crop. An acre would yield no less than a thousand pounds. This, in the Southwest Mountain Area, was absolutely the highest yield paddy field.
"Ha, Yezi won’t be able to get a wife, huh?" The children of the Han Clan started to get bolder ever since Xiaoxian became the de facto boss.
"Are you all asking for a beating?" In half a year, Yezi had grown quite a bit taller, a full head above the average child. If he really fought, the boys in the entire classroom combined would still not be enough for him to beat.
"If you can’t get a wife, just marry Zhu Xiaoxian," the group of little boys who played with Yezi chimed in with teasing.
"Zhu Xiaoxian? That’s what you’re calling her," Yezi turned and shouted angrily, silencing the classroom.
"It’s you who’s only grown in height but not in brains," Xiaoxian was used to it. Carrying the basket of rice, she headed towards the temple’s kitchen.
"Little Pig," the Fake Turkey poked its head out from Yezi’s arms, chirping at its owner with supreme sarcasm. Others might not know the foolish thoughts of its master, but being cuddled in his arms every day, it knew all too well his little schemes.
"What are you chirping about? You’re the one who eats without growing," with Xiaoxian gone, Yezi could only vent on his beloved bird. In half a year, this "turkey’s" diet had changed from eating grains to eating insects, and recently it had become picky, favoring live centipedes and small snakes. Yezi wondered what he would have to find to feed "Little Pig" in another year. What was most annoying was that this dead turkey never moved to find food on its own; every time it was hungry, it would make relentless noise in Yezi’s arms. "Little Pig" was true to its name, unbearably lazy.