Book 2: Chapter 182: Playing God |
Vol 2 Chapter 182: Playing God
“Elder Hou?”
Just as he hung up the phone, Zheng Fa saw Elder Hou running toward him.
He was holding a stalk of rice. The panicle reached up to his shoulder, and as he ran, the grains bounced against his smiling face.
Zheng Fa immediately understood what he was about to say.
“It worked?”
Elder Hou nodded and handed the rice stalk to Zheng Fa.
Zheng Fa held it in his hand and examined it.
Elder Hou’s plan was to crossbreed the rice from the nursing home—using it as either the father or mother—with other rice varieties. The goal was to cultivate a new strain that retained the flavor and yield advantages of the nursing home’s rice, but could be mass-produced outside a spiritual energy environment.
Elder Hou explained, “We tried more than fifty combinations, and this one seems to strike a balance between flavor, growing conditions, and yield.”
“We tested it in an environment with no spiritual energy.”
“This strain produces over 1,200 kilograms per mu, tastes better than almost every commercial variety, and doesn’t demand much from the soil!”
The rice in Zheng Fa’s hand was a bit smaller than the original kinds from the nursing home, but slightly larger than most current mass-cultivated varieties in the country.
The grains were plump and long, heavy in the hand, and carried a fresh, fragrant scent.
Holding this rice, Zheng Fa suddenly felt calm inside, grounded in a way he couldn’t explain.
“You’re a farmer too,” Elder Hou said with a smile, catching Zheng Fa’s expression.
“Hm?” Zheng Fa looked up, then nodded with approval. “I really am a farmer…”
He was always aware that his early life had left a deep mark on him—deep down, he loved the land and grains from the bottom of his heart…
Elder Hou burst out laughing, a look of recognition flashing in his eyes.
“People gave me so much praise, but I’ve always known—I’m just a farmer… I’ve always had one regret. I spent so many years researching, and yeah, the yield went up, but people didn’t like eating it…”
Zheng Fa nodded.
After working with Elder Hou for this long, he had come to understand the current state of hybrid rice.
To put it simply, hybrid rice had been widely adopted—but mostly for processed rice products—largely due to taste.
On the other hand, Elder Hou wasn’t the only one working on hybrid rice. Many scientists were involved.
But as a pioneer, Elder Hou was always an explorer—his focus was on maximizing yield to the extreme. However, for large-scale planting, the market and cost mattered too. Extreme yield was like a lab achievement; pushing it to the public was a whole different story.
So Elder Hou’s varieties weren’t the most popular in the field.
This led to one of his lingering regrets—his hybrid rice was usually seen as an emergency backup, not something for everyday households.
Looking at the rice seedling in Zheng Fa’s hand, Elder Hou’s face softened. He said to Zheng Fa, “Back then, people called me all kinds of ‘fathers’ of this or that… but in my heart, I always felt unworthy.”
He paused, not finishing the sentence, and suddenly bowed deeply to Zheng Fa.
Zheng Fa reached to support him again.
But this time, the old man stiffened his back, clearly unwilling to let it go.
Zheng Fa froze and let go.
Elder Hou bowed deeply once more.
When he rose, Elder Hou finally said, “Now I understand what it means to have no regrets in death…”
Old Bai and Tang Lingwu stood side by side under the eaves, exchanging a look—both smiling warmly.
…
“This is the new rice strain?” At the dining table, Team Leader Yang took a bite of rice from her bowl and her eyes lit up. “You really cultivated this?”
“Our part of the work here at the nursing home is finished. The rest depends on the next round of testing,” Zheng Fa explained.
This batch had still been ripened using the Evergreen Talisman. The next phase was to see whether it could grow just as well in a spiritual-energy-free natural environment.
But as Zheng Fa said, the nursing home’s role was more or less complete.
The rest could be handled by a standard agronomy lab.
“Wait a sec, I need to make a call.” Team Leader Yang suddenly put down her bowl and ran outside.
Zheng Fa turned back and said to Elder Hou, “Elder Hou, the next stage of spiritual plant cultivation will still need your and Teacher Tian’s help.”
Elder Hou nodded, then added, “Of course I’m happy to help, but when it comes to cytoplasmic inheritance research, I’m not the most qualified…”
Zheng Fa understood.
Though Team Leader Yang was always on the phone, their confidentiality work was excellent—Elder Hou had only been told because he was one of the few deeply trusted at the top.
For example, this time when Zheng Fa wanted to bring in top nuclear engineering experts, the process was slower—most of the time was spent on background evaluations.
After a while, Team Leader Yang came back in.
She said to Zheng Fa:
“The grain company we talked about has been officially established. The chairman—is it Lingwu?”
Zheng Fa looked at Tang Lingwu. She nodded gently, her face full of determination.
“If you’re not willing…”
Seeing her expression, Zheng Fa suddenly remembered—when they first met, Tang Lingwu had said she didn’t like doing business—she had a bit of social anxiety.
“I’m willing!”
Tang Lingwu said aloud.
Zheng Fa blinked, then nodded lightly.
Off to the side, Old Bai suddenly turned and looked deeply at Teacher Tian: “I’m willing!”
Everyone was stunned for a second, then immediately realized what Old Bai was doing.
Teacher Tian smacked him on the back: “What nonsense are you spouting!”
“I just thought—we never even had a wedding. That line Lingwu said was so touching! We’ve never even said it.”
“We’re old already. That kind of thing is for young couples!”
As soon as she said that, Tang Lingwu’s face turned bright red—social anxiety or not, now she had it.
After the laughter, Team Leader Yang said again, “Also, the higher-ups are evaluating for the National Science Progress Award. They wanted me to ask you all…”
She didn’t finish, but everyone understood.
They were offering awards—and money.
“But… the experiment’s not even finished yet?”
Old Bai was puzzled.
“Preliminary results are still results,” Team Leader Yang said with a cheerful smile, as if that made perfect sense.
Zheng Fa didn’t really care either way.
He looked around at the others at the table.
Tang Mu Dao had been focused entirely on cultivation lately, and during meals, his mind was elsewhere.
Tang Lingwu was clearly socially anxious.
Teacher Tian didn’t seem particularly interested either.
Old Bai… wait, what’s with that eager look on your face, Old Bai?
“Professor Bai, it looks like no one else here has the time—so maybe you should go,” Zheng Fa said. “But if you’re not willing…”
“I’m willing!”
Three words, loud and clear, as if to say—“Let me bear all the dirty fame and fortune!”
Teacher Tian slowly set down her chopsticks and looked over at Old Bai.
“Xiao Bai?”
“Why do I feel like, when you said those same words to me… it wasn’t quite as sincere?”
“…”
“Say it again!”
“Didn’t you say we’re an old married couple…”
“Say it!”
…
Two days later, Zheng Fa and the others were crouched in Old Bai’s room, watching TV.
Today was the day Old Bai was receiving an award on behalf of the nursing home.
The recognition was a big deal—it even got a short segment on the evening news.
They watched Old Bai strut on stage, excitedly accept the award and certificate, then walk off looking elated and spry—everyone let out a breath of relief.
Zheng Fa watched mostly out of fear that Old Bai might suddenly lose his mind and do something wild on camera.
…
On the highway down the mountain, Team Leader Yang was personally driving. In the backseat were two men—one middle-aged, one younger.
From the car radio, Old Bai’s voice played as he was interviewed by the national news anchor:
“Under the wise leadership of Director Zheng from the Hongshan Agricultural Research Institute…”
“This honor belongs to our Director…”
“He’s a man who’s not in it for fame or gain…”
The Hongshan Agricultural Research Institute was now one of the official public-facing names for the nursing home’s work.
The two men listening to the news each wore very different expressions.
“Director Yang,” the younger man couldn’t help but ask.
“I’m Team Leader Yang now,” Yang said cheerfully.
“Team Leader Yang, I heard this award was… a last-minute addition?”
The young man looked curious.
The middle-aged man tugged at his sleeve, but clearly, the young guy was a bit of a blunt instrument.
“Yes,” Team Leader Yang glanced at him through the rearview mirror and replied bluntly, “I applied for it.”
“…”
The young man’s mouth opened, as if trying to say something.
“You think it’s unfair?”
“I just think… it’s a little rushed… the other award winners were selected over half a year…”
Team Leader Yang smirked and said, “Let me put it this way… maybe ten, twenty years from now, if anyone remembers this year’s awards, it’ll be because of the Hongshan Agricultural Research Institute.”
“…” The young man was silent for a while, then finally asked, “Team Leader Yang, is it… true? Is there really cultivation?”
Yang nodded with a bright smile.
The young man looked like his worldview had just collapsed.
“You still don’t believe it?”
“I believe, how could I not? With everything you guys are doing?” The young man sighed deeply, then added, “If it was just about cultivation, I could accept that.”
“But you’re saying…”
“Immortals are playing with nuclear fusion…”
“That’s… a little too scientific.”
At that moment, the middle-aged man beside him finally spoke up: “Isn’t there a saying? ‘At the end of science is theology.’”
“Brother Wu? You…”
The young man looked at his companion in shock—like he was way too okay with this.
“When I first got into nuclear fusion research, everyone said it’d take fifty years to make it work…” Brother Wu said calmly. “Twenty years have passed since then, and the answer’s still: fifty years…”
“The truth is, everyone understands—breakthroughs in critical technology rely too much on luck. You can’t force them, and no prediction will ever be accurate.”
“But… how many fifty years do I have left?”
The young man froze.
Then he heard Brother Wu continue, “If he really does have a nuclear fusion method… forget about him claiming to be a cultivator.”
“If he said he was God, I’d believe it.”
The young man pressed his lips together.
Then Team Leader Yang said,
“It’s not just you guys… now that the rice worked out—”
“Back in ancient times, that alone would’ve gotten him a temple.”
“If he really pulls off nuclear fusion…” Team Leader Yang turned and looked at them, “If he really wanted to play God, who could stop him?”