Chapter 79: The Gap—Choose Your Partner Wisely

(from *Restarting the Farm at the End of the World*)

In the past, when Bian Changxi manipulated things with her vines, it was all about the speed at which she sent them out, the roughness of the vine itself, and the way she twisted and swung her hand at the base—basically, she was just flinging them out, like wielding a whip. But can you expect a whip to tie itself into a neat knot?

It’s like holding one end of a rope and expecting the other end to write words on the ground, all while keeping your hand still.

Of course, vines are different from whips or ropes, but her control over them wasn’t much better. Her strongest control was always at the very instant the vine shot out; after that, it was basically just a dead thing, hardly obedient at all.

The slender vine she sent out this time was delicate, almost translucent green, with a faint red glow pulsing through its center. When it first appeared, it swayed in the wind, glossy and beautiful. But soon, that sheen faded, its vitality draining away bit by bit, until it became just like any ordinary vine in nature. Bian Changxi could barely sense it anymore.

She quickly injected more energy, and the vine became lively again. She guided it toward a pebble, snaking it under the stone and then lifting it up—none of that was hard. The real challenge was getting the tip to double back and tie a knot.

She silently willed it, driving it with her energy, straining with all her might just to make it grudgingly loop around and form a knot. Tightening the knot was even harder: she held one end, but the other dangled in midair, so she had to pour energy into it, trying to make that end pull itself tight.

The knot was barely passable, but as soon as she lifted it, the pebble fell out.

Bian Changxi let out a breath and wiped her forehead. She was actually sweating.

She gave a wry smile—she’d clearly overestimated herself. Sighing, she put away the pebble and switched to a pair of chopsticks, broken in two.

She repeated the process: first two minutes to tie up the chopsticks, then one minute, then half a minute. From clumsy and stiff to smooth and natural. From loose, sloppy knots to ones that were basically secure. From needing several minutes of rest after each attempt to just a quick pause for breath. The last time, she managed to lift both chopstick halves at once, and smiled in relief—only then did she realize she was drenched in sweat, especially her left hand, which was pale and trembling.

Zhang Bubai, who was driving, asked worriedly, “Miss Bian, are you alright?”

Bian Changxi rubbed her left arm. Never mind the energy drain—her hand had been suspended in the air the whole time, muscles tensed to the point of aching exhaustion. “I’m okay… Wait, is it really ten-thirty already?”

It had only been a little after eight when she started.

“Yeah, just like that, more than two hours flew by. Miss Bian, I’m tired just watching you—take a break. I never thought you ability-users had to train so hard.”

Zhang Bubai was actually quite envious. He wished he had some kind of ability to train, even the weakest one—though he had no idea if there were levels to abilities, or which kind was the most useless. All he had was a body that wasn’t even particularly muscular.

As soon as Bian Changxi relaxed, she realized she was starving. Her powers were completely drained, so she didn’t dare continue. She rummaged in her bag, pulled out a bottle of water and a custard pie, and was about to eat when she glanced at Zhang Bubai. She handed him a custard pie too. “Here, have something to eat. You’ve only had a single steamed bun since this morning.”

And that bun was smaller than her fist, hard as a rock—just looking at it made her teeth ache for him. He hadn’t even taken a sip of water. She wondered if that bun would give him a stomachache, or if he could even digest it.

Zhang Bubai was flustered by the gesture. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” But after a moment’s hesitation, he couldn’t refuse this little snack, barely big enough for a single bite. He thanked her repeatedly, then tucked it away in the side pocket of his travel bag like a treasure. “I’m not hungry yet—I’ll save it for later.”

Bian Changxi didn’t press him. She ate, then curled up in her seat and dozed off. After such exertion, she was thoroughly exhausted.

She woke to practice, practiced then ate, ate then slept again. That’s how Bian Changxi spent two days in the convoy—monotonous but fulfilling. By the second evening, she could tie three pebbles together in a row without dropping them, and her skill in knotting, controlling the vine, and channeling her energy had all reached a new level.

She also discovered that the wood-type energy in her body had increased, edging closer to a perfect first stage.

Her only dissatisfaction was that she’d had to rely on natural recovery to replenish her energy over the past two days. If she’d used crystal cores to recharge, she would’ve felt too guilty about the expense. But natural recovery was just too slow, and as she improved, she became more and more aware of how limited her energy reserves were.

By now, the convoy had stopped for a while. An administrator was walking by with a megaphone, announcing that it was time to set up camp for the night.

Bian Changxi got out to stretch her arms and legs. Looking around, she saw they were on a wide national highway. In the glow of the setting sun, there were sprawling rice paddies by the roadside, stretching all the way to the foot of the mountains. The land was dry and the rice withered. Not far away were a few houses, and to the left, a sparse stand of trees—probably cedars. It looked like they’d be spending the night in the fields and woods. The terrain was flat and open, a pretty good spot.

The warrior squads took the lead, dismantling guardrails so the tanks, big trucks, and engineering vehicles could drive into the fields and form a defensive circle. Others spread out to stand guard, and several teams focused on searching the houses and woods.

By the time all threats were cleared—half an hour later—the rest of the vehicles began to enter the fields one by one.

After another hour or so of busy work, the camp was finally set up. Everyone had a place to settle in, and night had fallen. People split into groups to gather firewood, light fires, set up pots, and cook. Smoke from the fires rose into the air, and people gathered around the flames, eating and chatting. At last, there was a sense of life in this desolate place.

This was their first time camping out. The night before, they hadn’t found a suitable spot, so everyone had just stayed in formation on the vehicles. Now, with the novelty of camping, people were excited—some even started singing love songs to lighten the mood. Eating, chatting, singing, pitching tents—the atmosphere was lively.

Bian Changxi had no intention of joining in. She leaned against the truck, eating her eight-treasure porridge, eyes scanning the area. Zhang Bubai was busy with some wood he’d managed to chop yesterday, hammering and axing away at something. Suddenly, Yang Xiaowen sashayed over. “Miss Bian, how are you holding up? Getting used to things?”

Everyone knew her—she was the beautiful administrator here. People greeted her eagerly, the men perking up at once, fixing their hair or straightening their clothes, some even furtively picking at their eyes, all trying to show their best side.

But after two days on the road, with barely enough water to drink, let alone wash their faces, no one really looked their best.

Yang Xiaowen’s eyes were tinged with disdain, but she clearly enjoyed the attention, responding with a flirtatious laugh.

Bian Changxi bit her plastic spoon, suddenly finding her porridge tasteless. She smiled. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

Yang Xiaowen leaned in, covering her mouth, and whispered, “We’ve got a luxury car with a whole row of empty seats—reclining, with air conditioning. If you want, just let me know.”

Bian Changxi narrowed her eyes. “That fancy? I’m afraid I can’t afford the fare.”

“Oh, come on, what fare? With your abilities, a single move from you could save a life—and what’s a life worth? If you wanted, you could be one of the most comfortable people among these hundreds of thousands.” Suddenly, her tone changed as she glanced at the truck and clicked her tongue. “The army’s really stingy, sticking you in a spot like this. By the way, I heard saving people uses up a lot of energy. Did the army give you any compensation, like those crystal cores?”

Bian Changxi glanced at her. Yang Xiaowen smiled. “Listen to me, going on about this. Of course you know what’s best for yourself. Anyway, I’ve got things to do—if you change your mind, come find me.”

She sashayed off, leaving a waft of perfume behind. Bian Changxi poked at her porridge, thinking to herself: a lot of people probably think the army doesn’t value her—otherwise, she wouldn’t be stuck in this corner of a truck with ordinary people. In truth, she just hadn’t accepted the army’s offer yet. If she wanted, she could have an air-conditioned car.

But honestly, “one of the most comfortable among hundreds of thousands”—that kind of special treatment, neither the army nor Yang Xiaowen’s crowd could really provide. Even if she wanted to throw her lot in with someone, would she pick them? Circling around her every day—what’s the point?

She was still grumbling inwardly when loud laughter rang out. Like everyone else, she looked over. Wei Xiaodong was holding a green crystal core and laughing. She was from truck 5-0524, right behind Bian Changxi’s, and also sat in the front passenger seat. Noticing Bian Changxi’s gaze, she shot her a smug look and said to her driver, “This thing’s not easy to come by. You’re really giving it to me?”

“Hey, good things should go to the right person, right? If you like it, take it. If it makes a beauty smile, it’s worth it.”

The two laughed even louder, arms around each other. Dusk had fallen, and Bian Changxi saw the man’s hand slip inside Wei Xiaodong’s shirt as they cuddled and made their way back to the truck.

Bian Changxi sighed and glanced at Zhang Bubai, who was focused on his work and oblivious to everything else. She thought, Thank goodness I was paired with someone honest and decent like Zhang Bubai. If I’d been stuck with that other driver, I’d have died of disgust by now.

Zhang Bubai finished hammering the last piece in, tested it, and then proudly presented his handiwork to Bian Changxi. “Miss Bian, what do you think? Is it comfortable?”

Bian Changxi looked and saw it was a folding stool, cleverly made, with the seat crafted from strips of military canvas—sturdy and practical.

“No wonder you were chopping wood and collecting old canvas! You made this for me? Thanks!”

Zhang Bubai scratched his head and smiled. “You always have to stand when you get out of the truck, with nowhere to sit. I thought I’d make you a stool. Glad you like it.”

Once again, Bian Changxi marveled at how different people could be."