Chapter 202 - 126: Wheat Field

Chapter 202: Chapter 126: Wheat Field

"Rock Shelter..." Hearing the name, Xu Mo zoned out for a moment as the floodgates of his memory creaked open.

Ever since he left Cyan Pine Ridge and plunged headfirst into the much larger vortex of Jiang City, he had heard almost no concrete news about Rock Shelter. For it to reappear on his radar now—and in the context of "developing well and sending a delegation for exchange"—meant that the once-large civilian shelter must have gradually recovered after being integrated into Jiang City’s system. It might have even undergone new developments.

’Looks like the outside world isn’t as static and dead as I thought,’ Xu Mo mused. It was clear that exchange, competition, and even mergers existed between shelters. Jiang City wasn’t the only island in the storm.

Perhaps it was the hopeful harvest forecast on the broadcast that influenced him, or maybe he just wanted a temporary escape from the dullness of training at home for days on end. Whatever the reason, that afternoon, Xu Mo had a sudden whim and decided to take a drive.

He started up the off-road vehicle, which had sat unused for so long it had collected a layer of dust. Although he only planned to cruise around the relatively safe areas under Jiang City’s control, his post-apocalyptic habits kicked in. He made sure he was properly armed, placing his Mountain-Cutting Saber on the passenger seat within easy reach and his TT33 pistol in a quick-draw holster on his hip.

The engine let out a low rumble as the SUV pulled out of the Inner City. It passed through the busier and more chaotic outer districts before driving beyond Jiang City’s towering main wall.

Once the SUV was outside Jiang City, the view opened up dramatically. Beyond the walls wasn’t just rubble and warning zones.

Through Jiang City’s systematic efforts of clearing, leveling, and cultivating, vast tracts of land that were once barren or covered in construction debris had been transformed into neat farmland. Right now, what spread out before Xu Mo’s eyes was a boundless wheat field, currently in its flowering and grain-filling stage.

Waves of wheat rippled in the wind, creating layers of intermingling green and yellow that stretched to the horizon.

The air was filled with the fresh scent of the wheat, mixed with the earthy smell of sun-baked soil. The scene pulsed with the vibrant energy of life.

After driving for a while, Xu Mo turned the vehicle onto a small path and slowed down, cruising gently along the field road.

Gazing at this ocean of green, so full of hope, Xu Mo felt much of the gloom in his heart wash away, diluted by the life-affirming sight.

Grain was the lifeline. A bountiful harvest from this field meant that Jiang City’s food supply for the coming year would be more abundant, and the baseline for survival would be more secure.

For everyone living in Jiang City, this was undoubtedly the ultimate reassurance.

This endless sea of wheat also stirred memories deep in Xu Mo’s heart—memories of the peaceful era before he transmigrated.

In a daze, Xu Mo felt as if he had returned to his youth, walking down a country path with his schoolbag on his back after class. On both sides of the path was the same half-man-high wheat, its grains filling out. The heavy heads of grain bent the stalks slightly, glinting with a faint golden light under the setting sun.

Back then, he was carefree, seeing only a field full of hope before him. Even the air had tasted sweet...

The memory brought an unconscious smile to Xu Mo’s lips. He parked the car on the side of the road where it wouldn’t block traffic, pushed the door open, and got out. Taking a deep breath of the wheat-scented air, he strolled toward the edge of the field.

As he walked past a patch of wheat that was growing particularly well, he saw a figure that seemed strangely out of place amid the bountiful scene.

It was an old farmer who looked to be in his sixties. His skin was dark and leathery, his face etched with deep wrinkles like cracks in parched earth. He was squatting alone on a ridge between the fields, an old, polished copper pipe dangling from his mouth as he took intermittent puffs.

Wreathed in smoke, his brow was tightly furrowed. His gaze was fixed on the rolling green waves of wheat before him, but his eyes held no joy for the impending harvest. Instead, they were filled with an unshakeable sorrow and deep anxiety.

Xu Mo’s heart stirred. He walked over and struck up a conversation. "Sir, look how well this wheat is growing. It’s sure to be a great harvest this year."

Hearing his voice, the old farmer slowly turned his head. He glanced at Xu Mo, his eyes flicking over his clothes and the SUV parked by the road. A flicker of some complex, indiscernible emotion crossed his murky eyes. He took the pipe from his mouth, tapped the ash out on the sole of his shoe, and replied in a raspy voice, "Aye, it’s growin’ well. Haven’t seen wheat grow this good in decades. Soil’s rich, no pests or diseases to speak of..."

"Then why..." Xu Mo gestured to the man’s furrowed brow. "The wheat is growing so well, why the long face? Are you worried there won’t be enough hands for the harvest?"

The old farmer was silent for a long moment. His withered lips moved a few times as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed his words. He relit his pipe and took a deep drag. The acrid smoke seemed to give him a bit of courage to speak.

"You’re not a farmin’ man, are you, son?" the old farmer asked, his voice hoarse. "I’ve worked the land my whole life, tended to the crops. This wheat’s growin’ well, and of course that makes me happy. But deep down... I’m more scared than anything. Scared precisely *because* it’s growin’ so well, just when it’s about to ripen."

"Scared of what?" Xu Mo asked, confused.

"Scared of what?" The old farmer looked up, his gaze turning toward the hazy gray sky at the edge of the field. A flash of terror crossed his eyes. "Scared of the ones with wings!"

He paused, seemingly lost in memory, and his voice grew distant. "When I was a boy, my family had a few acres of land, too. When the wheat was almost ripe, the sparrows and magpies would come in droves. A whole black cloud of ’em, descendin’ on the fields to peck at the grain. Back then, my ma and pa had me runnin’ around the fields all day, wavin’ a bamboo pole with rags tied to it to scare the birds away. It was tiring, but I thought it was fun. Later, when I had my own son, I had him do the same when the wheat was ripe. That boy, he was just like me... laughin’ and jokin’, not takin’ it seriously at all..."