Chapter 80: The Farm

“Time to get up, Miss Ciyue.”

Xueyan’s mother called out, waking Ciyue.

“Mm………” Ciyue reluctantly got out of bed and glanced at the clock—it was exactly seven o’clock.

Having spent the night at Xueyan’s house, Ciyue was finally able to rest a little.

Although Xueyan’s family was surprised for a moment upon learning that Ciyue was an S-rank, they quickly returned to their usual demeanor.

“Where’s Xueyan?” Seeing the house empty, Ciyue asked.

“She got up early and went to train.”

Breakfast was a simple meal of stuffed pancakes and rice porridge, bland in taste.

“Miss, put this on,” Xueyan’s mother said, handing over a set of clothes, along with a wide-brimmed hat and water shoes. She herself was already wearing the same outfit.

“What are we doing dressed like this?”

“We’re going to the farm to harvest the ripe rice,” Xueyan’s mother replied. “Also, my surname is Chen, just call me Aunt Chen.”

Descending the apartment stairs, Ciyue saw many workers in blue uniforms hurrying to work. They all wore identity badges on their chests, displaying their names and positions.

Many glanced over curiously at Ciyue, a magical girl wearing a labor reform armband. She had no choice but to cover the armband with her coat to avoid attracting attention.

After about ten minutes, the street was filled with early commuters wearing simple clothes. The only vehicles were bicycles; there was almost no other form of transport.

Occasionally, a few beast mounts carrying cargo passed by, making Ciyue feel like she had traveled back to the last century.

Several magical girls in military uniforms, like Xueyan, skillfully flew between the giant pillars and the branch structures above, seemingly undergoing flight training.

Their flying skills looked excellent to Ciyue—perhaps they had mastered some effective training methods.

Broadcast speakers were everywhere on the streets, though silent at this early hour. After all, living so deep underground meant day and night felt nearly the same.

They finally arrived at the journey’s end—right at the edge of Song City. Ahead stood towering stone walls, with a giant gate wide open. Farmers were steadily entering through it.

“Is this the farm…?”

“Yes, this farm is quite special, Miss Ciyue. You’ll understand once you go inside.”

The two of them stepped through the giant gate into a square enclosure. Five small gates lined the far side, each with a long queue in front.

“We’re at the Five Number Gate. Come over here.”

Each small gate only allowed a portion of people inside before closing and reopening after a wait. Ciyue noticed a display screen on the wall showing the current queue status.

“Why design it this way? Why not let everyone in at once?” Ciyue asked.

“Ha ha, Miss Ciyue, that’s because this farm is magical. The rice inside grows weekly—one week to complete what would normally take an entire year outside.”

“Song City doesn’t have many farmers; this weekly harvest sustains so many people,” Aunt Chen explained.

“That’s… why? One week per harvest? That defies common sense. I’ve farmed before, but I’ve never heard of rice maturing so quickly.”

“Our farm is a very special place… Ah, enough talk, it’s our turn. You’ll see once you go in.”

They entered through the small gate into a room with two rows of seats.

Ciyue and Aunt Chen sat down together.

As soon as they sat, the entire room began vibrating rhythmically. Ciyue sensed she was about to be spatially transported again.

Sure enough, the vibration intensified.

When it ceased, the small gate had opened, revealing a passage to another area.

“This is where we work.”

A greenhouse appeared before them.

“Wait, Miss, don’t go ahead—it’s dangerous,” Aunt Chen grabbed Ciyue before she could move forward.

“See the yellow line on the ground? We must work within it.”

“Then how do we get across? The greenhouse is on the other side.”

“It’ll come to us.”

Sure enough, a sliding plate connected beneath the greenhouse moved forward.

“Why design it like this?”

“Because the flow of time in this area is different. You understand, right? Time speeds up unevenly the deeper inside you go. Inside, machines do all the work; humans can’t stay there.”

“So… space and time are one. If you can control space, you can control time,” Ciyue whispered to herself.

The greenhouse door automatically opened.

“Let’s go in. Bring your tools.”

Inside was a normal agricultural greenhouse. Under the glow of the lights, it was warm and humid—perfect for rice growth.

“Do you need me to teach you how to harvest?”

“No, Aunt Chen, I know. I’ll take these two rows.”

“You’re such a good girl. So young and you already know how to farm. Did your parents teach you?”

“My dad did.”

***

It had been a long time since she’d done this kind of work—stepping on the muddy Rice Field, swinging the sickle, cutting the full, heavy stalks of rice in bundles and placing them into the basket she carried.

Aunt Chen worked quickly; Ciyue had only finished half when Aunt Chen was already waiting for her at the exit.

“Do you want to rest? Let me help you.”

“No, I can manage by myself.”

After pulling all the rice in this greenhouse, Aunt Chen put the harvest into the dryer and then led Ciyue to the next greenhouse for the next round of harvesting.

They repeated this work over and over. Ciyue worked all day. Though her physical condition was far beyond ordinary people, she still felt somewhat tired.

“All done, Miss Ciyue. You did well today. Let’s go back and rest.” Aunt Chen gathered her tools.

“Hmm… is this labor reform?”

“For those who don’t cooperate, yes. But for you, it’s fine. Since you work so hard, these few weeks you just have to go through the motions helping me out.”

“Thank you, Auntie.”

“Come, today we have an event. Let me take you to join.”

***

Back in Song City, Aunt Chen brought Ciyue to the front of the apartment building.

By now, a large stage had been set up in the center between the buildings. Seats were arranged below it.

People in different uniform colors sat in their assigned seats—workers in blue, farmers in brown, soldiers in green.

“Today, the Witch Performing Troupe is here to hold an event. Miss Ciyue, come sit here,” Aunt Chen said. Ciyue saw Xueyan’s father sitting beside her.

“What is the Witch Performing Troupe?”

“They’re magical girls just like you, specializing in performing shows. Those girls are really talented.”

“I see. We have similar groups back on the mainland, though they’re not called performing troupes. Usually only military units have groups like that,” Ciyue recalled her time in the army, where magical girls occasionally came to perform for the troops.

Then they arrived, descending from the sky in colorful, gorgeous costumes—forming a sharp contrast with the plain uniforms of the audience.

Ciyue’s gaze fixed on a blue-haired girl among them, strikingly familiar…

“Lin Xing…? What are you doing here?”