Chapter 14: Star Fruit
The second room that had appeared had its door opening into the hallway.
It was worth noting that, prior to this, there had been no hallway at all in Cheng Qisheng’s home.
Yet it had simply appeared—and it was long. By estimation, it covered about 100 square meters.
Cheng Qisheng slowly measured the area of the second room.
When the Blue Sea Safe City upgraded from Tier 1 to Tier 2, the safe city expanded to 1,600 square kilometers, and a 150-square-meter room appeared in her real-world home.
Now, after devouring the core of the Lord of the Universe, the safe city had expanded to 6,400 square kilometers, and another 1,100-square-meter planting area had appeared in her house.
Cheng Qisheng’s original expectation was a total area of about 1,200 square meters, which would neatly match the calculation of (150 + 150) × 2 × 2. But then there was that extra 100-square-meter hallway outside—so it worked out the same.
That meant 1,100 square meters of planting area and a 100-square-meter hallway.
What did 1,100 square meters mean in practical terms?
Most homes for a family of three are around 100 square meters, which meant Cheng Qisheng now had the equivalent of eleven such houses.
Just looking at it with the naked eye, it was larger than two basketball courts combined.
The entire room had no roof and was filled with all kinds of fruit trees and vegetables. Some of the fruit trees were still only leafy saplings, while others had already borne fruit, and the vegetables had not yet fully grown.
At a glance, everything was lush and green.
Even before stepping inside—just standing at the doorway and looking in—she already felt refreshed and her mind unusually open.
However, she quickly noticed a problem: all these plants were species that also existed in her world.
Different planets naturally have different vegetation. On Dark Star, only a small portion of plant life overlapped with Blue Star where Cheng Qisheng lived; the rest were entirely plants that did not exist on Blue Star.
She had originally planned to see whether, through this expansion, she could obtain some Dark Star plants.
As Cheng Qisheng walked past an apple tree, she picked an apple and glanced at the small bok choy still in its growth stage.
“So it really can only transplant plants that already exist on Blue Star?”
Fortunately, she had been careful. When setting up the basic room, besides placing a large proportion of the Dark Star plants she wanted, she had also intentionally included a small number of plants that existed on Blue Star as well.
Even though she hadn’t obtained Dark Star plants, Cheng Qisheng remained in a good mindset.
This was still fine—better than a planting area with only soil and no vegetation. It had saved her a lot of trouble.
“Aether, tell me: after the safe city devoured the core, how many trees and vegetables were transplanted into the expanded city lord’s room? And what species are they?”
Aether drifted over, its jellyfish-like body glowing faintly.
“Yes, City Lord. Aether will calculate for you. During this expansion, the system automatically transplanted 150 pine trees from the City Lord’s Mansion, 15 maple trees, 3 dwarf cypress trees, 3 clusters of flame fruit, and as for ferns…”
Cheng Qisheng: “Wait. Flame fruit? What is that? Show me.”
Could it be that a Dark Star plant had slipped in?
Aether immediately displayed a virtual image. Bright red small fruits clustered densely on the branches—it actually looked quite pretty.
The only issue was… why did it look so much like something she had seen before at a flower and bird market?
The difference was that the market version was neatly trimmed into a decorative bonsai shape, while these were wild and unruly.
Following the guidance, Cheng Qisheng indeed found the three clusters of small fruit plants. She cut off a branch with fruit still attached and took it to the entrance to take a photo.
Then she opened a map, searched for a bonsai shop owner, called him, added him as a friend, and even sent a red packet payment.
The shop owner replied with a voice message:
“This is firethorn, also called ‘lucky fruit.’ It’s a small ornamental shrub, looks quite nice. We sell it here—if you want it, I can give you a discount.”
Cheng Qisheng thanked the shop owner and politely declined his sales pitch. She went online to double-check and compared multiple sources. Only then did she finally confirm it.
Yes—Dark Star’s “flame fruit” was Blue Star’s firethorn.
It was simply a different name.
Why was the name different? Because Cheng Qisheng had never paid attention to it before.
She tapped the little red fruit and, through her connection of consciousness, linked to the Pope, instructing him that from now on, “flame fruit” would be renamed “firethorn.”
No explanation was necessary—the Creator God could be this arbitrary.
Otherwise, if even planetary languages were different, how could names like pine trees, maple trees, dwarf cypress, and various small animals possibly match those of Blue Star?
“Alright, Aether, continue.”
“Yes, City Lord. For vegetables, the system automatically transplanted from the Blue Sea planting area: 30 bok choy, 30 lettuce, 10 tomato plants, and 1 star fruit vegetable…”
Cheng Qisheng’s eyes lit up. “Wait, wait—star fruit vegetable?”
“Yes, City Lord.”
Aether, quick on the uptake, immediately displayed a virtual image of the star fruit vegetable.
In truth, there was no need for the image—Cheng Qisheng already knew what it was.
The “star fruit vegetable” had originally been called just “star fruit.” It was something like a combination of ginseng and reishi mushroom from Blue Star, though with much milder effects.
When cooked, it could calm the mind, help with sleep, relieve fatigue, and nourish the body—not anything exaggerated, but genuinely beneficial.
Even on Dark Star, because of its good effects and slow growth, star fruit had long been one of the most expensive high-end tonics in history.
By the time modern civilization arrived, numerous breeding experts had painstakingly worked on it and finally developed a version that only needed one year to grow and had relatively high yields. This newer version was called “star fruit vegetable.”
Although the improved version wasn’t as potent as the original, it was still nourishing. At the very least, middle-class families could afford it, and more people could eat it.
Since the black hole appeared beside Dark Star, the upper levels of Blue Sea had been working themselves into a frenzy of decision-making. Every single day, they could only sleep two hours and still function normally.
This was due partly to the fact that Blue Sea’s leadership all had exceptionally strong constitutions—but also partly because of the daily intake of star fruit vegetables.
Cheng Qisheng, with a hint of anticipation, walked up to this plant from another world—the star fruit vegetable.
Its appearance resembled small, slightly translucent yellow multi-faceted crystals. Under lamplight at night, they really did look like twinkling stars in the sky.
One stalk of the new star fruit vegetable grew about thirty of these little “stars.”
Cheng Qisheng gently touched them, as if handling some precious treasure.
This was exactly what she had always wanted.
How many times had she lain in bed, unable to move, staring at the star fruit from Dark Star, aching with desire?
Back then, no matter what she tried, she couldn’t bring anything from Dark Star back. Otherwise, she would have long since eaten truckloads of thousand-year star fruit just to see whether it could cure her ALS.
Even if it couldn’t cure it—just easing it would have been enough. Anything that helped at all would have been fine.
Even now, with the safe city as a glimmer of hope, Cheng Qisheng had never given up trying other ways to treat her condition. Who said there could only be one method? She could use multiple approaches at once.
She picked one yellow star fruit.
Although the century-old version from Dark Star hadn’t come through, what stood before her now was the one-year “star fruit vegetable.” Even if it was a weaker version, having it was still better than having none.
Thinking this, she still didn’t actually eat it.
Instead, she cooked it first, broke off a small piece, and then slowly went downstairs with her cane, placing it under a tree.
This was the first time in a year that Cheng Qisheng had gone downstairs.
Reaching the ground floor and seeing the community greenery and neighbors passing by—children running and playing—she took a deep breath.
All of this was real. She had truly found a way to treat her illness—truly turned an irreversible condition into something reversible.
Today was a bright, sunny day. The early autumn sunlight felt warm on the skin.
Cheng Qisheng sat by the flowerbed like that, tilting her head up to soak in the sun.
A neighbor was playing with a child on the community playground nearby. Seeing that she hadn’t moved for a long time, they couldn’t help but glance at her a few times.
Noticing her gaunt face, the fluffy hat she was already wearing in early autumn, and the cane placed beside her, it all made sense.
She must be a long-term patient, just recently well enough to come outside and get some fresh air.
By dusk, that small patch of star fruit vegetable had already been devoured by ants, flying insects, and other tiny creatures.
In front of Cheng Qisheng, a neat row of disposable cups had been placed.
Each cup contained a small insect that had eaten the star fruit vegetable.
There were even some tiny flying insects—creatures so small and fast that normal people could hardly catch them.
But Cheng Qisheng had caught them, and even used tweezers to do so without harming them.
Her movements were several times slower than an average person’s, but her eyesight had become much sharper than before. She could clearly see the insects as they flew, and predict their paths to wait for them like a hunter lying in ambush.
She picked up each disposable cup one by one and looked through them.
After a whole day, all the insects—including the earliest ones that had eaten—were still completely unharmed. In fact, they even seemed more energetic.
She released them. The crawling insects quickly scurried away, while the flying ones flapped their tiny wings and drifted off.
Kind of cute.
Cheng Qisheng realized that hundreds of billions of years of tending Dark Star had still left her with some aftereffects.
Now, no matter what kind of life form she saw, she would instinctively observe it with a kind of tolerant attitude.
As for why it was “tolerance” rather than something else—just thinking about how the seven civilizations before “Old Eighth” had destroyed themselves made the reason obvious.
And there was also a sense of detachment toward life and death, as if she could appreciate the insects flying away, and also gently place a leaf over an ant that had died days earlier.
It was just like those years when she watched seven civilizations rise, prosper, decline, and perish.
After covering the ant with a leaf, Cheng Qisheng suddenly came to her senses.
—No! Being tolerant and appreciative was fine, but this “detachment toward life and death” absolutely wasn’t.
When she first tended Dark Star, wasn’t it precisely to find a way to survive?
What nonsense about detachment toward life and death!
She wanted to live—and live long, live happily, and live better than anyone else!
Cheng Qisheng quickly brushed the leaf off the dead ant.
Leaning on her cane, she returned home in a strangely fast mood but slow steps, washed her hands, and started eating the star fruit vegetable.
The good news: it worked. Her body did feel warm and much more comfortable.
The bad news: it didn’t work on her “mortal body condition.”
Cheng Qisheng felt slightly disappointed, but quickly became energized again.
Now she had hope for treatment. She could walk and take care of herself. It hadn’t cost her a single cent, yet her home now had two large rooms: one study that didn’t even need electricity bills, and another that had become a forest with vegetables and tonics.
The ground floor was a commercial district. She lived high in a tower, yet had access to farmland-like space to stroll in. She really should be happy.
She placed a reclining chair in the pine forest and lay down comfortably, looking out toward the safe city.
The planting area that had appeared in her home gave her inspiration.
She could transplant Dark Star plants into her own space.
So could Blue Sea also transplant useful plants from the zombie world into the safe city?
And not just plants—animals too.
If they could search every world for high-yield, edible species, then let experts study them, select them, breed them, hybridize them…
The more Cheng Qisheng thought about it, the more promising it seemed.
Other safe cities did not have the equipment or experts. Everyone there was constantly licking the edge of a blade, fighting every single day, with no manpower or spare time to devote to something as time-consuming as breeding new crops.
But Blue Sea did.
Cheng Qisheng hesitated for a moment between contacting the President or the Pope. In the end, she chose to pass the message to the President.
Qin Zhi’s attitude toward divine revelations had always been the same:
—Any time! Any place! Divine revelation! Receive it with full seriousness!
After receiving the revelation, she immediately sprang into action.
Blue Sea did have agricultural experts, but because it had long been focused on external expansion, killing zombies, and fighting wars between safe cities—and because this world clearly prioritized combat ability—any humanities-related disciplines had rapidly declined.
Although planting zones had been opened and many agricultural professionals had been reassigned to new roles, their numbers had sharply decreased.
After all, agricultural experts needed land to work with. In the past, Dark Star was vast—people were scattered across various cities, with some doing research on farmland in big cities and others heading to rural areas to work hard.
But now? The entire safe city was only this large. Even though the government had tried to open up as much land as possible, there still wasn’t enough for all the experts.
Among agricultural experts, breeding specialists had it even harder.
There was no helping it. Blue Sea civilization was currently facing immediate, pressing survival challenges. Meanwhile, developing a good new variety could take ten years or even longer.
And right now, zombies were everywhere outside. Wars had just ended, and the safe city was changing every day.
They could not wait. Truly could not wait.
Land resources were limited, so of course priority had to be given to urgent matters.
The tide of the era surged forward like a flood, and every grain of soil it carried away might represent an entire person’s life.
Many breeding experts were among those grains of soil swept away.
Perhaps in three to five years, once Blue Sea stabilized, they would be able to return.
But everyone understood clearly—that time was not now.
Some of the experts switched careers. Some decided to join combat outside. Some even took up construction work.
And on this very day,
all of these breeding experts simultaneously received a message from the AI.
