Chapter 295: Thousand‑jin per Mu Yield — Yuan Longping Team Gives a Thumbs‑Up

Zhao Chen stared at the countdown on the screen, three minutes.

She raised her wrist and lightly pressed the glasses frame. A blue light flashed at the edge of the lens, and a ripple spread from the monitoring posts around the wheat field. No one noticed the light; everyone was busy taking photos.

Farmer Old Li rushed over holding a bundle of wheat stalks, his face sweaty, his voice loud as a gong: "Dr. Zhao! This wheat can pole‑dance!"

The people nearby burst into laughter.

Zhao Chen twitched the corner of her mouth, saying nothing. She knew Old Li was genuinely happy. This test field had been called a pointless tinkering three months ago; now the actual yield per mu is 987 jin, just shy of a thousand. But as soon as the data was uploaded to the system, her alarm went off—not a network attack, but a biological signal anomaly.

She turned and walked toward the display stand, holding a sample bag. The label read: F-7 generation active seed, high‑sensitivity plant. In fact this is fake. The real F-7 is in the underground cold storage, its number not yet made public.

When the camera aimed at her, she placed the bag into the transparent display case, moving slowly. The shot showed celebration, but her eyes stayed fixed on the bushes at the field's edge. The wind direction was wrong, the leaves moving in unison.

Her phone vibrated once. The security robot sent back footage: low‑altitude patrol mode activated, discovering a person crouching beside the drainage ditch, holding a sampling bottle.

She gave no order to arrest him.

The Yuan Longping team's video link connected on schedule. On the big screen appeared several white‑haired elders sitting in a modest office. The leader smiled and nodded, "Comrade Zhao Chen, your new winter wheat line has stable yield, strong disease resistance, and can complement our rice zones."

The reporters immediately surrounded her to ask questions.

"How significant do you think this achievement is for nationwide promotion?"

"Can it be counted as the second Green Revolution?"

Zhao Chen stood before the microphone, voice low, "It's just the beginning."

She paused, then added, "And someone has already come to take things."

The scene fell silent for a second.

No one understood.

She also didn't explain.

After the link ended, the farmers spontaneously organized the harvest. They refused to use machinery, saying they feared damaging the roots, and wanted to cut and bundle by hand. Old Li led a few young people into line, each with a sickle, bending over to work.

Zhao Chen retreated to the monitoring van.

Inside the van she was alone. She opened the backend log and pulled up that infrared clip. The stranger wore an ordinary coat, a hat, moved skillfully, taking three soil samples and two whole wheat seedlings at the field's edge. As he left he avoided all camera blind spots—clearly he'd come prepared.

But she had prepared a countermove.

The field contains a double‑layer marking system. Genuine samples carry a gene fluorescence code invisible to the naked eye, but once removed from the plant for more than ten minutes they release trace tracking particles—wherever that person goes, he'll leave a mark.

She opened the map; a red dot was slowly moving outward from the city.

She picked up the walkie‑talkie: "Team B, follow, keep your distance, don't startle him."

Outside, the cheers grew louder.

It turned out a child was running into the crowd clutching wheat stalks, shouting, "Dad, look! Gold is growing!" Everyone laughed until they couldn't straighten up.

Zhao Chen put down the walkie‑talkie and stepped out of the monitoring van.

Sunlight fell on the wheat field, the whole expanse looking like a carpet of broken gold. The wind blew, the wheat waves rose and fell with a rustling sound.

She walked to the display case, opened the latch, and took out the fake sample. The bag felt a little damp, having picked up dew when she'd placed it inside.

She stuffed it into her personal bag, swapped in another sealed packet of ordinary seed, and put it back.

If anyone comes again to steal, they'll only get a pile of junk.

She glanced up at the sky. The drone was still circling, filming; the livestream signal hadn't dropped. The comment barrage flew by fast.

【This girl must be only in her teens—too fierce】

【If my land could grow this, I'd swap my car next year】

【Will Dr. Zhao take on disciples? I'm willing to start learning from weeding】

The corner of her mouth twitched.

At that moment her phone vibrated again.

System Prompt popped up:

【Create an agricultural miracle, reward: Super Crop Specialization】

A stream of information flowed into her mind—not text, not images, but a direct understanding—she suddenly knew how to alter one plant to make it drought‑resistant, another to boost its protein. The knowledge felt as natural as breathing, residing in her brain.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them to find her gaze falling on a distant white van.

The van was stopped at the intersection, unlicensed, its windows blackened with reflective film.

That person had just been heading in that direction.

She stepped forward, meanwhile pulling out her phone to dial.

"Hello, Technical Department? Pull today's logs of all vehicles entering and exiting, focus on unlicensed white vans."

The other end acknowledged.

She was about to hang up when she caught sight of the van moving out of the corner of her eye.

The passenger‑side door opened a slit, a hand reached out and took a small bottle. The bottle was transparent, containing several wheat roots with soil.

The exchange took only two seconds.

The door shut, the van pulled away slowly, without acceleration or sharp turns, just like an ordinary pass‑by, drifting off.

She stood still, unmoving.

She couldn't give chase.

This is a public setting; she's now the focus, every move caught on camera. If she suddenly drove out to block him, she'd only expose herself more.

She put her phone back in her pocket and turned toward the crowd.

Old Li came up, holding a bowl of freshly cooked wheat‑grain porridge: "Try it! We just harvested this this morning!"

She took the bowl, stirred with a spoon. Hot steam hit her face, a little scalding.

She lowered her head and took a sip.

The grains were plump, sweet when chewed.

"Delicious." she said.

Lao Li grinned, "Next year the whole village will plant this!"

She nodded, then took another sip.

In the distance, the white minivan turned the corner at the village entrance and disappeared from sight.

She set down her bowl and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

Then she took out her walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button.

"Team A, take note: the target has shifted to Line 3, carrying the sample, confirmed as physical theft."

"Say it again, this is not a drill."

"Begin tracking, wait for orders to act."

She released the button and looked up at the sky.

The drone was still flying.

The livestream was still ongoing.

The danmaku suddenly flashed a new message:

【Someone just caught a plate-less car driving out from behind the Test Field】

She stared at that comment, her fingers slowly tightening.

At the edge of the wheat field, the indicator light on a small weather station flashed green.

That was the second trap she had set.

Anyone who had come into contact with the genuine wheat sprouts would get a nanometer‑level scent marker on them, mixed into the air data and sent back to the main control.

That car couldn't escape.

She turned and walked toward the surveillance vehicle, her steps unhurried.

Laughter came from behind her, and someone was singing a harvest song.

She opened the door, got in, and closed the window.

The screen lit up, two red dots on the map drawing closer.

She reached out and tapped the play button.

The recording began to run.

Outside the car, golden wheat waves rolled like an endless sea.