Chapter Thirty-One: Cultivating a New Experimental Field

After leaving the pet store, Fang Zhuowei headed to a hardware shop, where he bought several high-intensity light bulbs, a few power strips, and a roll of thickened wire. Once he’d gathered almost everything he needed, Fang Zhuowei glanced at the time—it was just past nine, not even ten o’clock yet. Since it was still early and the buns at his third aunt’s house likely weren’t ready, he decided to go home first to drop off the miscellaneous items. Afterward, carrying a shovel, hoe, and other tools, he made his way to the back hill he’d recently purchased.

The plans for the Dragon Civilization and the Biochemical Evolution Civilization were already in place; it was best to seize the moment and get to work. The two experimental fields differed in size: the one for creating dragons was approximately ten square meters, while the site for the biochemical civilization was much smaller, about five square meters.

After determining the boundaries, Fang Zhuowei dug a pit in each test field, each about two square meters wide and over a meter deep. When these pits were finished, he dragged over a length of pipe and filled both with water. Apart from serving as a platform for the earliest stages of life incubation, these ponds could also act as oceans, enriching the geographical diversity of the miniature world.

Fang Zhuowei wasn’t concerned that the spore creatures would see the real world beyond the experimental patches on the back hill. The reason was simple: the miniature world, shrouded by the essence of evolution, would form a special visual barrier. Creatures within would be unable to glimpse the outside world; not only that, but without Fang Zhuowei’s permission, they could not breach this barrier.

To put it simply, it was akin to the mortal realm and the world of immortals: mere mortals could not enter the immortal domain unless their cultivation reached a certain level—there was simply no other way.

Besides the ponds, Fang Zhuowei also piled up several half-meter-high mounds of earth in each experimental plot. On top of these, he scattered a layer of moss and roughly sculpted the mounds to resemble the rudimentary forms of mountains.

“To the life forms created in these two plots, will these little earth mounds I’ve made seem like towering pillars holding up the sky?” Fang Zhuowei mused, unable to suppress a smile as he admired his handiwork.

…

With the setup nearly complete, Fang Zhuowei returned to the house and fetched the lizard he had just bought. Since he could only use the act of creation once per day, he brought only a single green iguana.

Setting the cage aside, Fang Zhuowei focused his mind.

A resonant hum vibrated through the air.

Ripples, as clear and shimmering as waves, appeared above the lizard, and a palm-sized, pitch-black, ancient vortex of light slowly materialized, silent and remote as a primordial black hole formed by the collapse and extinction of a star.

As the dark light vortex emerged, a bead of bright red blood, no bigger than a grain of rice, shot straight out of the lizard’s body and instantly vanished into the black spiral.

The spores began fusing with the cells.

“Next, I need to adjust the speed of evolution in the miniature world.” Fang Zhuowei’s brow arched slightly. “Creating dragons isn’t something that can be accomplished overnight. Since that’s the case, let’s accelerate the evolutionary process to the maximum: one day equals a hundred thousand years of perpetual day, and a hundred years of endless night.”

After pondering for a moment, he settled on the time acceleration ratio. He also designated a large patch of barren land nearby for planting vegetables.

Since the soil was naturally fertile black earth, there was no need to spend time cultivating it. A quick clearing of weeds and stones sufficed before Fang Zhuowei used his hoe to dig a few furrows.

After evenly sowing the seeds and watering them, he dusted off his hands.

The task was complete.

He had sown all the seeds suitable for the season; now all that remained was to quietly wait for them to sprout, blossom, and bear fruit…

Once everything was more or less taken care of, Fang Zhuowei glanced at the time—it was already past eleven.

It was nearly lunchtime.

Changing his clothes, Fang Zhuowei headed straight to Tang Jinhua’s house. He arrived just as the buns were being taken out of the steamer, still piping hot and fragrant.

“You child, why buy all these things? What a waste of money. Your third uncle and I care for you not for this. If word gets out, what would people think of us?” Tang Jinhua’s expression turned to disapproval when she saw Fang Zhuowei arrive with armfuls of goods.

“Please, just take it as a little gesture from your junior. It’s just this one time,” Fang Zhuowei replied with a wry smile. It took much persuasion before Tang Jinhua reluctantly accepted the offerings.

Years had passed, yet Tang Jinhua’s skill at making buns remained as remarkable as ever. Even with his less than robust digestion, Fang Zhuowei managed to devour three large, savory buns in one sitting, along with a bowl of tomato and egg soup.

For a healthy person, this amount was nothing special, but for Fang Zhuowei, it was a rare indulgence—he was thoroughly stuffed.

“If you like it, eat more,” Tang Jinhua said kindly.

“By the way, Auntie, where’s Ya? Why hasn’t she come for lunch?” Fang Zhuowei asked curiously, wiping the grease from his lips.

“She dashed out in a hurry just now. I have no idea what she was up to,” Tang Jinhua replied, shaking her head.

“I see,” Fang Zhuowei nodded, not pressing the matter. He’d only asked out of casual interest.

Suddenly, a rapid knocking sounded from the door.

“That must be Ya coming back!” Tang Jinhua said as she hurried to open it.

But the first figures through the doorway were two police officers, dressed in crisp uniforms, standing tall and official. Behind them trailed several more people: a man in a white tracksuit, a burly fellow, and a child who looked no more than ten years old.

They entered behind the officers.

To Fang Zhuowei’s surprise, Zhang Ya was among them, though she immediately went to stand beside Tang Jinhua.

“Hello, we’re officers from the town police station. These gentlemen are specialists from the city who have come to assist in our investigation. First, could you confirm who called in the report?” asked the younger-looking officer, gesturing toward the group in white.

“I made the call. I can’t believe it’s drawn experts from the city!” Tang Jinhua replied quickly, her expression tense.

“No need to be nervous,” the officer in the white tracksuit said gently. “We happened to be nearby, so we came straight over. If you wouldn’t mind, please show us the scratch marks.”

Tang Jinhua nodded eagerly.

Examining the marks on the wooden door, the man in white said, “Judging by the size and depth, these were indeed made by some kind of wild animal. However, the scratches are too chaotic to identify the culprit. Are there any other traces left behind?”