Chapter 192: Vivacious

Zheng Fa stepped closer, watching the driver unload the cargo.

One truck was filled with crops.

Most of it was vegetables.

Some were common winter varieties, like radishes, cabbage, and mud mustard.

There were also tomatoes and the like, probably grown in greenhouses.

There were also seeds, mostly various types of rice.

Teacher Tian had already come forward, taking each bag of vegetables and seeds, examining each one carefully before nodding—she showed no impatience despite the full truckload.

Sometimes she would shake her head at Zheng Fa and the others, without making the driver feel bad, simply setting the bags aside—clearly, these items weren't up to standard.

Two other truck beds held experimental equipment.

The largest portion of space was taken up by lab benches.

There were also various other instruments.

Microscopes, centrifuges, balances… these were just the ones Zheng Fa could recognize.

There were another ten or so boxes of other equipment.

"Don't worry," the old white-haired man said beside him. "Little Tian made a list and contacted everyone personally—Lingwu won't be cheated."

"I'm not worried she'll be cheated," Zheng Fa shook his head. "I'm worried she's spending too much."

"This… I can't talk her out of it," the old man fell silent for a moment, as if understanding what Zheng Fa meant; after a long pause, he spoke: "Only you can."

…

"How much did you spend?"

Zheng Fa walked into the house and found Tang Lingwumin, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding him.

Tang Lingwumin was the one spending the money, yet her expression now was slightly guilty.

"Not much…"

Zheng Fa sighed lightly upon hearing this.

He had just asked Teacher Tian—the value of these three truckloads was at least ten million.

Hearing his sigh, Tang Lingwumin immediately explained:

"I didn't ask my parents for money! I used only my own."

"Your own?"

Zheng Fa was confused—Tang Lingwumin's family was indeed wealthy, but she was never a big spender.

The card she used for pocket money held at most a few hundred thousand:

Compared to others with wealth equal to her father's, her frugality was already remarkable…

One could even say her upbringing was extremely strict.

"My New Year's money," Tang Lingwumin added, seeing he didn't believe her. "Gifts from elders. I didn't have much before, but as the family got richer, it slowly added up."

"... ow much is left?"

"There's still some. I never paid attention to it before—it just sat in the account. I only remembered these past two days. Do you still need to buy anything?"

Seeing she still wanted to spend.

Zheng Fa quickly refused.

"You… aren't happy?"

Seeing his expression was not bright, Tang Lingwumin asked anxiously.

"Tang Lingwumin."

"Hm?" Hearing Zheng Fa call her name so seriously, Tang Lingwumin shuddered.

"I am deeply, deeply grateful you trust me this way, and that you support the nursing home without counting the cost."

Zheng Fa's expression was sincere.

But Tang Lingwumin's face grew a little downcast.

She seemed to sense Zheng Fa was about to say something that would upset her.

"But…" Zheng Fa seemed to be organizing his words: "I still want to tell you that perhaps when we first met, I approached you because I needed something."

He recalled how he had first sought out Tang Lingwumin—because the talisman diagram resembled an Olympiad problem, and he wanted to ask her for advice.

"Maybe you grew close to me because of milk tea."

"Mm."

As if recalling their first meeting, a faint smile appeared on Tang Lingwumin's face.

"But we've known each other so long," Zheng Fa thought for a moment, then voiced what he'd been holding back: "I've long regarded you as a Dao companion."

"Dao companion?"

"Yes, a Dao companion," Zheng Fa nodded. "So, Tang Lingwumin…"

"Hm?" Tang Lingwumin looked a bit dazed.

Zheng Fa spoke slowly—he was never good at expressing his inner feelings.

But this girl… if he didn't make it clear, it might not be enough.

"Perhaps, in your past life, because of certain things, you had to be a child who helped your family, a student who made your parents proud."

"But here with me, you don't need to wonder if you're useful to me, or to the nursing home…" Zheng Fa thought of Tang Lingwumin's choices all along: "Whether you studied computer science or spent money—I'm grateful for both…"

"But I still hope you understand."

"Mm…" Tang Lingwumin stared blankly at Zheng Fa, surprised he'd suddenly said all this.

"You're good enough. You don't need to keep trying to please me—or anyone—to live." Zheng Fa looked at Tang Lingwumin.

She was a girl who had lived for years beside an abnormal mother.

She was a girl who had never had a true friend.

That's why she was anxious, overly concerned with others in every relationship.

Even to the point of giving without limit.

All these days, Tang Lingwumin's choices had unconsciously made her seem "useful."

"You've given me a lot of real, tangible help," Zheng Fa continued. "But I still want to say… from some unknown point onward, even if you had no money, even if you hadn't chosen computer science, I'd still want to walk this path of cultivation to its end with you."

"Mm." Tang Lingwumin sniffled softly in reply.

"At least here in the nursing home," Zheng Fa whispered, "even without the Wind-riding Technique, you are free."

…

"Lingwu has changed."

The old white-haired man looked at Zheng Fa, then at Tang Lingwumin far away, helping Teacher Tian with experiments, and made a sudden declaration.

"Huh?"

Zheng Fa was surprised—this old man was surprisingly perceptive.

"Before, this girl looked at you like a pitiful stray dog."

"..."

"When she looked at you, her eyes said one thing… Don't leave me."

Zheng Fa strangely felt the old man's description was accurate.

"And now?"

"Now she's still a dog—when she sees you, her tail wags like crazy."

"Huh?"

"But her eyes aren't afraid anymore," the old man snorted. "Just pure silly joy."

"..."

"Not good enough," Teacher Tian and the other walked over to Zheng Fa and the others: "From the cellular structure, these plants show no significant changes."

Zheng Fa wasn't disappointed upon hearing this.

These past two days, they'd used these seeds for many experiments.

One by one, the Evergreen Talismans had turned into row after row of vegetables, fruits, and grains.

Hundreds, even thousands of varieties had been tested.

Most crops grew sturdier and looked fresher than those grown in non-spiritual environments.

But when observed with the Void-Spirit Eye, none contained spiritual energy.

Indeed, after Teacher Tian took samples and examined them closely, she reached the same conclusion—these were just ordinary vegetables and fruits, with no special structures formed.

"So," the old man frowned, analyzing: "Either modern crops simply lack the potential to become spiritual plants, or—as Little Tian said—there are still some special conditions missing."

Everyone fell silent.

These experimental results were far from good.

"Alright! Research takes time," Teacher Tian clapped her hands. "Since we've got so many vegetables in winter, I'll cook a meal—let's have a lively feast."

Hearing this, the other three couldn't help but smile.

Zheng Fa looked at Tang Lingwumin, seeing her laugh with unusual joy and freedom, and felt warmth in his chest.

Tang Lingwumin seemed to notice his gaze, turned back, glanced at him, then puffed out her small belly and gently patted it—as if saying she was hungry.

Her expression was vividly lively.

…

"Little Tian, have you gotten better at cooking?"

The old white-haired man put a slice of cucumber in his mouth, then widened his eyes in surprise.

"Only you know how to sweet-talk!" Teacher Tian tapped him with her chopsticks. "The kids are right here!"

"It's not…"

"Teacher Tian, really!" Tang Lingwumin's tone held more astonishment than Old White: "It's delicious! More delicious than any dish I've ever eaten before!"

Seeing her expression was genuine, Teacher Tian picked up a chopstick and took a bite of one dish.

She chewed lightly twice, her eyelids flickering.

She said nothing, tasting the other dishes one by one. Long moments passed before she set down her chopsticks, her gaze serious: "This isn't my doing."

"... piritual energy?"

Old White instantly understood.

"Right," Teacher Tian explained. "The nursing home's kitchen doesn't even have all the seasonings. My cooking skills couldn't have improved this fast."

Zheng Fa picked up a piece of tomato and put it in his mouth, nodding slightly.

He had never realized the food in the Xuanwei Realm might be tastier.

Mainly, the crops on both sides seemed to have subtle differences.

Only now, with comparison, did he realize—spiritual energy truly enhanced the flavor and texture of these vegetables and fruits.

So the pigweed leaves he'd eaten before were actually an improved version?

If those things had no spiritual energy, how awful would they taste…

Though no spiritual plants had been cultivated, there had been an unexpected bonus.

"Zheng Fa!" Tang Lingwumin suddenly slammed the table and shouted: "This stuff is valuable!"

"I know," Zheng Fa had thought of this too, but his yield was limited…

"Very valuable!" Seeing his indifference, Tang Lingwumin insisted: "High-end ingredients—more valuable than you can imagine!"

Hearing this, Zheng Fa and Old White exchanged a glance, both suddenly interested.

If the little heiress said it was valuable, it wasn't just valuable—it was extraordinary.

"How so?"

"Some high-end restaurants need ingredients found nowhere else—the rarer, the better," Tang Lingwumin explained. "But they're not necessarily delicious."

Zheng Fa looked at the full table of dishes.

He understood Tang Lingwumin's meaning—

First, these dishes were exclusive to the nursing home.

Second, they were genuinely delicious!

A dimensional crush!

…

"I'll call my dad and ask!"

Tang Lingwumin pulled out her phone and walked farther away.

She turned on speakerphone; the call connected quickly.

"Sweetheart! Missing your old man?" came a slightly oily middle-aged voice.

"Dad! I have a business question—I need to ask you!" Tang Lingwumin blushed and cut him off.

"Who are you? How do you have my daughter's number?"

The voice on the other end turned instantly serious.

"... ad!"

"My daughter has never cared about business!"

…

Beside them, Old White, whose daughter was two decades older than Tang Lingwumin, snorted: "That's because his daughter never met Huangmao."

"..."

"If she had, she wouldn't just care about business—she'd want to have kids too," Old White said, gritting his teeth.

"I care now!"

"See!" Old White said at once.