“Yes,” Lin Shuying nodded. “When she was three, there was an orchid in the greenhouse that was dying. She touched it, and the next day it came back to life. Over the years, any plant she’s handled has grown especially well.”
“Have you taught her how to control it?”
“I have.” Lin Shuying said. “Before the old director of the Astronomical Bureau passed away two years ago, he gave me all his manuscripts on the study of ‘Wood Virtue Energy.’ I combined them with my own experience and compiled an introductory cultivation method, which I taught to Sui’er. Yan’er also learned it, but he’s not as interested—he prefers mechanical things.”
Xiao Shengrui took her hand: “That’s fine. Each to their own strengths and joys.”
They walked on, arriving at a special patch of melon field.
This was Lin Shuying’s “nostalgia plot,” planted with all the representative varieties she had cultivated over the years: the first-generation Rainbow-Striped Watermelon, the second-generation Square Watermelon, the third-generation Wine-Scented Watermelon, the fourth-generation Honey Treasure, the fifth-generation Golden Silk Honey Treasure… all the way to last year’s newly developed “Mini Potted Melon,” only fist-sized, suitable for growing on windowsills.
Every variety held a memory.
“Do you remember the first time you grew a rainbow watermelon?” Xiao Shengrui asked.
“Of course.” Lin Shuying laughed. “A-Gua said the melon had become a spirit and wanted to invite a Daoist priest to perform an exorcism.”
“And the square watermelon—it even attracted the attention of Prince Jing.”
“The wine-scented watermelon made the Crown Prince and Third Brother drink too much—they insisted on swearing brotherhood with the melon.”
The two reminisced, laughing together.
Ten years passed in the blink of an eye.
And yet, it also felt like they had walked a lifetime.
“Shuying,” Xiao Shengrui suddenly looked at her seriously, “have you been happy these ten years?”
Lin Shuying paused, then nodded: “Happy.”
Truly happy.
She had a career, a family, friends, and a sense of accomplishment.
She thought of her days in the laboratory in her previous life, fighting alone; she thought of the arrogant, troublemaking girl she’d been when she first crossed over; she thought of the little moments over these years…
The underworld had promised her “a life of abundance, wealth and leisure, family harmony, and descendants filling your halls”—and she had received all of it.
And more than promised.
She had not only achieved her own fulfillment but had also helped countless others.
Those farmers who had increased their harvests because of her techniques, those women whose fates had been changed by the schools she’d founded, those people who had enough to eat because of the improved seeds she’d spread—all of these were extra blessings.
Moonlight fell upon them, gentle as water.
In the distance came children’s laughter; nearby, melon leaves rustled in the breeze.
The lights of Jiahe Garden went out one by one.
But tomorrow, when the sun rose, it would come alive again.
New seedlings would break through the soil in the test fields, new students would attend classes in the lecture hall, new hybridization experiments would begin in the greenhouse…
— —
“Oh, by the way,” Lin Shuying suddenly remembered something, “Prince Jing—the Fifth Prince—wrote a few days ago. He said his ‘Magic Melon Research Institute’ has developed a seedless variety and asked if I wanted to collaborate on promoting it.”
Xiao Shengrui couldn’t help but laugh: “That boy—he’s really made melon-growing his career.”
Xiao Shenglan had spent ten years in Qingzhou as the “Melon Prince,” not only turning “Magic Melons” into a local specialty but also establishing a real “Watermelon Research Institute,” recruiting a group of agricultural enthusiasts. Last year, he had married the daughter of a local scholar—and it was said that half of the bride’s dowry consisted of various melon seeds.
“Collaboration is possible.” Lin Shuying thought for a moment. “Have him submit the seeds and cultivation techniques for review. If they’re indeed good, we can include them in the promotion catalog.”
“You’re always so professional, separating public from private,” Xiao Shengrui laughed.
“Of course.” Lin Shuying said matter-of-factly. “I can’t give special treatment just because he’s my nephew.”
The two walked back side by side.
Passing the Institute’s meeting hall, they saw A Li still working on accounts under the lamp.
A Li had grown into a capable, steady woman, with her hair in a round bun and dressed in plain clothes—but the shadow of that clever young maid still lingered in her brows and eyes.
She had married Chen Shi—the minor official who had transferred from the Ministry of Works to the Institute all those years ago and learned farming for a month. They had been married for eight years, with a son and a daughter.
Chen Shi was in charge of northern affairs at the Institute, traveling frequently. A Li managed finances and kept the household well-organized.
“A Li, aren’t you going home to rest?” Lin Shuying pushed the door open.
A Li looked up and smiled: “Miss, just a few more entries. The southern branch’s accounts don’t balance this month—I’m checking them.”
“What’s off?”
“Three hundred taels extra.” A Li pointed at the ledger. “We clearly received five hundred taels in seed payments, but only two hundred taels were disbursed. There’s an extra three hundred taels in the account—no idea where it came from.”
Lin Shuying took the ledger, looked it over, and suddenly smiled: “It’s mine. Last month, the Jiangnan branch sold a batch of ‘Honey Treasure’ seeds—I remember telling you that the money didn’t need to be turned in, but was to be kept there for building agricultural stations.”
A Li slapped her forehead: “Oh, my memory! Yes, you did say that—I forgot.”
“Alright, don’t stay up any longer.” Lin Shuying closed the ledger. “You can finish it tomorrow.”
“Yes.” A Li gathered her things, then asked, “Miss, Chen Shi is coming back from the north tomorrow—could I take half a day off to pick him up?”
“Granted. Bring him back for dinner—Auntie Liu has been saying she hasn’t seen him in a long time.”
“Yes!” A Li replied happily.
As they stepped out of the meeting hall, Lin Shuying suddenly said, “Let’s go take a look at Little Lin Manor.”
Xiao Shengrui had no objection.
— —
Little Lin Manor had become a “former residence” after Jiahe Garden was built, but Lin Shuying had always kept it just as it was.
The greenhouse was still there, the study was still there, and the bamboo chair under the corridor was still there.
Sometimes she would come back alone and sit for a while, thinking of those early days.
The two walked along the path, pushed open the gate, and moonlight flooded the courtyard like water.
The melon field was gone—it had been converted into test plots—but the corner of the greenhouse where she had grown the rainbow watermelons still remained.
Lin Shuying walked in and touched the wooden rack that once held the molds. It was old now, but still sturdy.
“Do you remember the first time you came here?” she asked.
“Of course.” Xiao Shengrui walked over. “I climbed over the wall.”
“Later, the Empress wouldn’t let you climb anymore.”
“Yes, so I started using the front gate. A Li would leave it open for me.”
They both laughed.
“Shengrui,” Lin Shuying suddenly said, “have you ever regretted it?”
“Regretted what?”
“Regretting marrying me.” Lin Shuying said seriously. “All these years, most of my time has been spent at the Institute or out in the fields. I haven’t spent that much time with you or the children.”
Xiao Shengrui looked at her with tender eyes: “Shuying, when I married you, I already knew who you were. You love farming, you love researching, you love getting things done. I’ve never wanted to change that.”
He paused and took her hand: “And besides—haven’t I always been with you? When you’re in the fields, I’m nearby reading. When you’re writing in the study, I’m across from you reading reports. When you travel to Jiangnan, I go with you. The children grew up with us, raised in the test fields—isn’t that wonderful too?”
Lin Shuying’s nose stung, and she leaned on his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Thank you for always being by my side.”
The two sat at Little Lin Manor for a long time before slowly walking back.
By the time they returned to Jiahe Garden, the children were already asleep.
A Li came out of their room and whispered: “Yan’er drew a design for an improved plow—he wants you to see it. Sui’er wrote an observation report on melon diseases—she also wants your feedback.”
Lin Shuying took them and flipped through.
Her son’s drawing was quite professional, complete with dimensions and explanatory notes. Her daughter’s observation report was even more impressive—with data, comparisons, and conclusions.
“They’re both promising.” She smiled as she put them away.
“Better than you were at that age,” A Li teased. “Back then, all you drew was watermelon grafting diagrams—much rougher than this.”
Lin Shuying shot her a look, and A Li ran off laughing.
Night grew deep, and Jiahe Garden finally fell quiet.
Lin Shuying and Xiao Shengrui washed up and lay down in bed.
Moonlight streamed through the gauze curtain, falling before the bed.
“Shuying,” Xiao Shengrui turned to her, “in our next life, I’ll still want to farm with you.”
Lin Shuying smiled: “Alright. But in the next life, I want to try growing coffee and chocolate.”
“What are those?”
“Two… very delicious things.” Lin Shuying winked. “When I cultivate them, I’ll let you taste them first.”
“It’s a deal.”
“It’s a deal.”
They smiled at each other and slowly closed their eyes.
Outside the window, crickets chirped.
In the distant test fields, new melon seedlings were quietly growing under the moonlight.
In the lecture hall, the lesson plan for tomorrow’s class was still spread open on the desk.
In the meeting hall, the ledger A Li had forgotten to take lay open to the last page.
Everything in Jiahe Garden was peacefully asleep.
And her story with him continued.
In this life, and the next.
Forever walking the path of planting hope.
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