Famine 152: Consciousness

Si Zhiyan handed the gems to Yun Zhong, instructing, “Record the time of each sale and the buyer’s information. At this time tomorrow, no matter how much has been sold, report to me once.”

It was now 8:00 in the morning. If this batch of gems could sell out before the same time tomorrow, then the price was right; the mine’s daily output could be absorbed, and there would be no stockpiling of goods.

Yun Zhong nodded repeatedly and left with the gems.

Was twenty-four hours too short? Si Zhiyan wondered to himself.

After all, this was a large purchase, and players were not that wealthy.
If anything unexpected occurred, it might delay things even further…

As he pondered this, Yun Zhong suddenly turned back and pushed open Si Zhiyan’s door.

Si Zhiyan looked up. “What is it?”

Yun Zhong answered earnestly, “Sir, it’s all sold out.”

Si Zhiyan: “…”

Si Zhiyan: “…?”

Si Zhiyan pushed open the second-floor window of the trade building.

Boom!

A deafening uproar from outside burst in, nearly rendering Si Zhiyan deaf.

The trade building’s hall was already packed with people, a sea of heads surging in and out.

Qiu Hong had grabbed a trader’s collar, shouting loudly:
“It’s sold out?! Say that again? It’s sold out?!”

The trader bellowed above the commotion, “There really isn’t any left! Today’s allotment of Red Crystals was only 130!”

“You’re lying! How could a hundred or so sell out in seconds?! Who could get one?!”

“Can we reserve some for tomorrow?”

“No reservations! If you want it, come early!” the trader snapped. “Why don’t you check when everyone arrived?”

Nearby, a security guard finally lost patience: “Let go of the trader, you brute!”

As Qiu Hong was being dragged out by security, she caught a glimpse at the back—Liang Qingshuang gazing enraptured at a Red Crystal held aloft: “Ah, staying up all night in line last night was worth it. It’s beautiful…”

Qiu Hong: “…”
Last night?

Lin Qiushui and Sha Tong had secured Red Crystals too. The two now stood casually side by side, a tone of nostalgia in their conversation:
“This really takes me back. It’s just like those hot real estate launches in an economic boom.”
“Yeah, I remember once when I finally had a vacation and went home. My wife said I was strong, so she made me queue at the showroom to secure a presale slot…”

…

Si Zhiyan quietly closed the window.

Silence returned to the office.

At this moment, the same phrase came to his mind that must have crossed every player’s mind outside—

Where did all these rich people come from?!

They had endured hard times for too long; life had only just improved, and even when they earned points, they dared not spend recklessly. It was the tradition of a diligent people—to live stringently, but to save any surplus they could. Accumulating savings for emergencies, to spend when it truly mattered.

Now was the time.

It wasn’t surprising that everyone was so eager; this went entirely against the standard apocalyptic view of consumption.
If you don’t know how much time you have left, a survivor tends to live for today—to drink while there is wine—because nothing is sadder than dying with your money unspent.

Until they found their way to the farm.

With hope for the future, everyone began to truly live.
Saving up became part of life too.

At least, this way, Si Zhiyan no longer had to worry about the problem of overproduction. He could keep the gem mine operating at full capacity without concern.

Those who failed to buy, stomping their feet in frustration, made firm resolutions to queue even earlier the next day.

And those who did get a Red Crystal were overjoyed, racing to book the services of a craftsman.

Dozens of forges roared with life from that moment onward.

The gem mine in the territory now ran four shifts, non-stop, yet every craftsman’s arm was worked until it smoked, unable to keep up with the players’ enthusiasm.

Si Zhiyan had been prepared for this, gathering the craftsmen and distributing copies of the forging manual. At this time, he also introduced a new policy—

Forging was time-consuming and labor-intensive; the farm was willing to subsidize the craftsmen, reducing the price per forged item. The one requirement was that every tool or weapon enchanted with the farm’s Red Crystal must bear the farm’s insignia.

The farm insignia, which Si Zhiyan had commissioned specially, was a vine totem—somewhat wild in its design—printed on banners flown above the town hall.

It was beautiful and did not detract from the item’s appearance.

Si Zhiyan also exchanged for a facility just for this symbol—

[D-Rank Facility – The Lawyer’s Intellectual Property Mandate Contract]
The truth is, in these times, such scrupulous businessfolk are rare.
Your trademark is your sole effective defense from being lumped in with those idiot competitors.
Tired of tedious rights-protection procedures?
Why not come sign a contract with the Underworld Law Firm!
From now on, any design more than 98% similar can only come from those you personally authorize.

If anyone infringes, our lawyers will drag them straight into court!
Of course, whether the opposing party survives to appear is another matter.

Over eight combined visible lines, with no prior, similar design publicly existing and not forming part of any enchantment rune—that’s a different fee.

In truth, Si Zhiyan never made this mandatory, but ninety-nine craftsmen out of a hundred gladly accepted.

Most importantly…

Sizzle!

Wu Jing lifted the branding iron, pointing proudly at the emblem burned into the light armor. “See this? The vine insignia! Genuine official farm goods!”

“Wow!” the buyer’s eyes widened.

Before this, most player-traded gear came from scavenged cursed items from various places, with wildly varying quality.

Shi He’s [Eye of Insight] was extremely rare and costly, normally inaccessible and with no way to open a shop at that level of the main deity.

Many special effects were unreliable or misleading.

Now, with the mine able to provide stable, high-quality bonus yields, and with the farm’s official mark, the items carried a flawless guarantee of authenticity, a new standard of excellence—unmatched by any other cursed artifact.

Products bearing this mark fetched many times their price as soon as they left the farm.

For a while, it became a mark of pride to wear farm-made gear among players.

Originally, Si Zhiyan had no rules about emblem size, but in practice, every craftsman made them as large and prominent as possible—no one ever tried to conceal them.
Some oversized trademark aesthetics were almost more than Si Zhiyan could stomach…

He once saw a player from his window—

The man carried a huge headless tiger on his shoulder, wore sunglasses, and had a massive, golden, ostentatious necklace around his neck, studded with a farm Red Crystal. In addition to the gem, the necklace was encrusted with glittering diamonds forming a giant farm insignia hanging right in the center of his chest.

With a beaming smile and the envy of all, he strutted down the street.

“Excuse me, brother, how do I get to C District residences? I’m lost again.”
“Oh? You mean my necklace? Haha, just casually snagged a farm Red Crystal! It’s really powerful, swapped it in this morning and killed an A-rank headless tiger today!”

After who knows how many wrong turns, someone beside him finally couldn’t take it anymore: “You’ve been lost for two hours—still can’t find it?!”
“Who asked you? I’ll just use NASA’s super radar to search this universe—who the hell asked you anyway?”

Wiping his brow, Si Zhiyan watched as the player, walking pigeon-toed, proudly stomped into the distance—and at the next corner, headed precisely the wrong way from C District…

The excellent quality of the gear, the strength of the farm’s players, and their unhurried lifestyle undoubtedly sent shockwaves through the outside world.
While the effect wasn’t yet obvious, once the world transitioned, these well-equipped farm beneficiaries scattered everywhere would become the ultimate living advertisement.

…

With the influx of new equipment, players needed a place to test their blades.

Most players needed ongoing battle feedback to fine-tune their weapons and gear. Some would opt for composite enchantments and needed to trial their weapons’ stats.

With enchanted, powerful weapons, ordinary dummies or wood pillars would shatter with a single blow.

The farm was now quite large, and the interior perfectly safe—no supernatural threats existed within its bounds.
Yet each time they forged something, there was a long trek outside to hunt anomalies for testing, record the data, then hike back to the forge for adjustments—a real hassle.

There arose a serious issue.

It was far too dangerous.

Though smiths like Wu Jing could forge good blades, they themselves were just ordinary players, with little personal augmentation. In one experiment, Wu Jing nearly had his neck snapped by an anomaly; only Hu Yongchang’s desperate effort saved his life.

But there was always a solution—soon, Wu Jing and company found more suitable targets—

Blackthorn Deadwood.

These trees boasted extraordinary hardness; average Chosen blows could not break them. Their density was uniform and consistent, allowing for precise measurement of blade penetration.
Though these trees would bleed, the effect wasn’t significant and was within acceptable limits.

The players were well satisfied.

It was then that someone unexpected arrived—with an equally unexpected reason for their visit.

Zhong Yanqing stood in Si Zhiyan’s study and gave a deep bow:

“I’m sorry. I know my request is absurd, but… sir!”

“May I sincerely beg you to order everyone to stop harming the Blackthorn Forest?”

At that moment, Nidhogg happened to be slacking in Si Zhiyan’s office. At these words, he jerked upright with a somersault, exclaiming in disbelief, “What kind of carbon-based lifeform has the gall to spew such nonsense?”

Most farm residents held poor opinions of the Blackthorn Forest.

During the night of the [Eye’s] attack, these treebound divine warriors animated as anomalies, had caused the farm endless trouble.
It was thanks to Zhong Yanqing and the Virtual North Team Chosen that they survived, though they too suffered heavy losses. Despite their efforts, many moths hiding in the foliage flew out and claimed many more victims among the players.

Nidhogg especially—his child had been tormented and broken against the Blackthorn Deadwood, sacrificing everything of himself.
Even if he never spoke of it, pain and memory left a lasting brand.

Nidhogg arched an eyebrow, voice icy: “So you can sympathize with both good and evil. Now you’re pitying anomalies, too?”
“You’ve just eaten for a few days and you’re already so full of self-righteousness? Notre Dame burns, and you come running out?”

Zhong Yanqing pressed his lips tight and did not answer Nidhogg. His expression made it clear he’d heard all these taunts before—clearly, he’d endured plenty of the same ridicule.

Si Zhiyan: “…”

Si Zhiyan pressed his hand down, signaling Nidhogg to hold his tongue, then poured a cup of tea for Zhong Yanqing and asked calmly, “Your reason?”

“You should know by now that I won’t show unnecessary mercy to an enemy out of personal sentiment. I imagine you have your reasons prepared; please tell me.”

Si Zhiyan’s voice was gentle and composed, even amiable, yet something in his tone made Zhong Yanqing’s shoulders tense involuntarily, his back straightening unconsciously.

For him, just to have a chance at being truly heard was cause enough for excitement.

“These Blackthorn Deadwood… no, the Divine Attendants. They are not purely anomalous.”

Zhong Yanqing drew a long breath and spoke, slowly,

“For the most part… they are conscious.”