The metal platform outside the cargo hold gleamed coldly in the shadows cast by the twin stars. Chen Hao squatted beside the first batch of sealed containers, poking his finger at the monitoring tag affixed to the corner. The readings were normal, the radiation absorption rate as stable as a dutiful clock-in.
Nana stood half a step behind him, the robotic arm slightly adjusting its angle, the scanning port aligned with the approaching inspector's flight path.
“I’m here,” she said.
Chen Hao looked up and saw a small, dark green vessel slowly docking. The Ecological Alliance's silver leaf emblem was printed on its hull, looking like a band-aid stuck in the wrong place. The hatch opened, and a person in a dark green uniform stepped out, his epaulets gleaming coldly, his expression as hard as a freezer.
He carried the testing equipment in his hand, his steps were so precise it was as if he had measured with a ruler, and every step he took landed precisely on the seams of the platform.
Chen Hao stood up and dusted off his pants: "Comrade, are you walking like that because you're afraid of missing even a millimeter of gap?"
The other party ignored him, walked straight to the cargo box, turned on the instrument, and began scanning.
The air was quiet for a few seconds, with only the regular "beep-beep" sound of the detector.
Then, the voice changed.
"Beep beep beep!"
The red light flashed.
The inspector frowned, immediately paused the sampling process, and looked up at Chen Hao: "Unregistered minerals were detected in the soil samples. The composition is unknown, and a preliminary assessment indicates a potential migration risk. In accordance with Article 17 of the Interstellar Ecological Security Regulations, this batch of goods must be sealed on-site pending further evaluation."
Chen Hao grinned: "Here we go again? Last time you said my wheat was a biological weapon, now you have a new script?"
“I’m just following the law.” The inspector’s tone was calm, but his eyes were wary. “You can’t prove that this substance won’t spread, nor can you provide data on its long-term ecological impact.”
“I can,” Nana suddenly said, her mechanical eyes flashing blue light. “The database is ready and can be accessed at any time to retrieve complete geological and biological transformation chain records.”
The examiner hesitated for a moment: "Then let's show it."
The holographic projection unfolded instantly, and a three-dimensional dynamic image appeared in the air. The image cut in from the planet's surface, followed the root system deep into the underground rock layers, and a clear path of energy flow was marked.
“This element originates from a meteorite vein that fell ten years ago. Its main component is a silicon-vanadium complex, which naturally exists in the core layer of star F-49.” Nana spoke slowly and deliberately. “The purple wheat absorbs trace amounts of this substance through specialized root hairs to enhance cell wall stability. During its growth, it fixes the substance to the xylem and does not have free properties.”
The image transitions to display a two-year-long curve of soil tracking data.
“No change in the concentration of this element has been detected within a five-kilometer radius of the planting area over the past twenty-four months,” she added. “Compared to the natural deposition rate in non-planting areas, the difference is below the detection error range.”
The inspector stared at the screen for a long time before finally speaking: "How do you explain its presence in the cargo hold soil sample?"
“Because it’s part of the seed culture substrate,” Chen Hao continued. “We haven’t been hiding anything; all the formulas are publicly available in the shared archives. If you don’t believe me, I can recite the nutrient solution ratio in the third row, second column right now.”
The other party remained silent, then restarted the detector and retrieved the original data interface for comparison.
A few minutes later, he chuckled softly, "The data... is indeed consistent."
“More than just consistent.” Nana then played another video, “Please watch the comparative experiment.”
The image is divided into two halves: on the left is an ordinary farmland that is gradually withering and deteriorating in a lightly contaminated area; on the right is their purple wheat field, which not only survives under the same conditions, but its roots are also continuously decomposing radioactive particles in the soil, with the efficiency marked in real time as a percentage.
“It doesn’t eat soil, nor does it steal land,” Chen Hao interjected. “It specifically chooses places where no one dares to plant, treating wasteland like a buffet. You call it a threat, but I think it’s a model worker.”
The inspector didn't speak, his fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of the detector.
After a long silence, he asked in a low voice, "If this is rolled out on a large scale, who can guarantee that nothing unexpected will happen?"
“Nobody can guarantee that,” Chen Hao shrugged. “Farming is inherently risky. Last year I even grew a freak with three ears of egg growing on the same stem, which I ended up cooking as a snack. But you can’t say the whole farm is going to explode just because one chicken laid a square egg, can you?”
Nana added at the opportune moment: "All gene sequences are locked within the individual's life cycle and cannot be transmitted through pollen or root secretions. Ten years of monitoring data show that the probability of cross-species transfer is zero."
The examiner finally relaxed his tense shoulders, took an electronic report from his briefcase, and connected it to the terminal.
He checked each item one by one, his movements still meticulous, but the pace noticeably slowed down.
After confirming the last line, he paused for a few seconds in the signature bar, his fingertip hovering above the confirmation button.
Chen Hao didn't urge him, but simply took out a bag of potato chips and took a bite.
"Aren't you nervous?" the examiner suddenly asked.
“I’m nervous,” he said, chewing. “But I’m even more afraid of starving. If this wheat doesn’t pass inspection, I’ll have to go mining next month to pay off my debts.”
The other person glanced at him, and the corner of their mouth twitched very slightly.
Then, press the confirmation button.
A green icon popped up on the screen: "[Risk-Free Pass] Issued. This batch of radiation-emitting wheat is approved for inclusion in the Interstellar Free Trade List."
Nana simultaneously announced: "The review results have been uploaded to the Interstellar Agriculture Filing System and can be checked globally."
The inspector packed up the equipment and stopped before leaving: "Your project... is not a simple crop improvement project."
"Oh?" Chen Hao raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a new model for ecological reconstruction.” He looked at the faintly visible purple fields in the distance. “Perhaps… we’ve been guarding against the wrong things all along. The real danger isn’t the life being altered, but the people who refuse to change.”
After saying that, he turned and boarded the ship. The hatch closed, and the ship slowly took off.
Chen Hao watched the green dot disappear into the distance, a half-eaten potato chip still dangling from his mouth.
“Did you hear that?” he said to Nana. “People are calling us a miracle.”
“To be precise, it’s an ‘interstellar agricultural miracle’,” Nana corrected.
"Oh, you're quite vengeful." He patted her mechanical arm. "Alright, it's fine if we created it together."
The wind was strong at the port, making the seals on the cargo containers rattle. The second batch of containers hadn't been opened yet; the labels were neat and uniform, with numbers starting from M41-001 and increasing sequentially.
Nana suddenly prompted: "Trace amounts of silicon-vanadium complex crystals were detected in the soil sample. The purity is higher than that of natural mineral veins, and it has industrial extraction value."
Chen Hao was about to put the last potato chip in his mouth when his hand stopped.
What did you say?
“This mineral exhibits excellent thermoelectric conversion properties in a high-density aggregated state.” Nana pulled up the analysis chart. “Preliminary estimates suggest that more than three kilograms of usable crystals can be extracted from each ton of purified soil. The market valuation has not yet been determined, but the potential is significant.”
Chen Hao slowly put the potato chips back into the packaging bag and carefully folded the opening.
He walked to the nearest cargo box, squatted down, and reached out to touch a small clump of black soil stuck to the bottom of the box.
My fingertip brushed against the granules; they were a bit rough and a bit heavy.
It doesn't resemble fertilizer.
It looks more like...mineral slag.
He looked up into the distance. The rail lift at G7 Port was in operation, and a merchant ship slowly docked, the loading arms making a heavy metallic clanging sound as they connected.
“Nana,” he suddenly said.
"exist."
"Do you think that besides absorbing radiation from our wheat harvest, we can also... make some extra money on the side?"
“It’s theoretically feasible,” Nana replied. “As long as a standardized extraction process is established, the revenue from by-products is expected to exceed the sales expectations for staple grains.”
Chen Hao didn't say anything more, but stood up, patted his pants, and stared at the pile of unopened shipping containers.
On the surface of the box numbered m41-001 in the second batch of goods, the monitoring tag suddenly jumped.
The value increased slightly.
It's not radiation.
It's temperature.
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