The scene was as lively as eight hundred ducks clamoring for food.

Yu Qinchun watched his father and elder brother surrounded by the crowd and suddenly remarked, "Gentlemen, if we don’t hurry, His Majesty and Yue Fuguang will be too far ahead."

Sure enough, when the officials turned around, all they caught was the fluttering corner of their emperor’s distinctive golden robe as he disappeared around the corner in the autumn breeze.

With a hurried shout about splitting the seeds later, they hastily waddled their plump figures forward in pursuit.

Squawk!

Gasp!

Whoa!

Yue Fuguang heard the familiar chorus of exaggerated reactions behind her—rising and falling in waves. She was used to it by now!

After the first two times, she felt much calmer hearing these over-the-top sounds…

Well, her system thought she’d be more convincing if she weren’t digging her toes into the ground in embarrassment.

To ease the awkwardness, she decided to distract herself with some sarcastic commentary.

"I really don’t get why they’re so fascinated by this tiny glass greenhouse. If these mortals saw skyscrapers hundreds of meters tall, built with countless panes of glass, they’d lose their minds."

The system played along.

[Ancient technology is backward, and productivity is low. It’s no surprise they find even this unremarkable glass novel.

If you told them that future mortals could build machines that fly without being immortals like us, they probably wouldn’t believe it.

The limits of their imagination mean they couldn’t even dream of carriages moving thousands of miles a day without horses.]

"Speaking of carriages, do you still have those shock-absorbing springs and tires? The royal carriage has no suspension, and these morning commutes are killing me."

[I can give you the springs right now, but the wheels are bulky. Materializing them out of thin air would scare people. I’ll send a few puppets to deliver them.]

"Fine, but hurry. I can’t stand this rickety carriage another day. I miss flying so much."

Yue Fuguang felt her acting skills were improving—her claims about her "immortal" days didn’t even make her blush anymore.

The crowd, still stunned, snapped out of their daze at the sudden mental exchange.

They quickly composed themselves, reassuming the dignified airs of Great Yan’s pillars of state.

Emperor Mingxi cleared his throat and said, "Yue Fuguang, show us the planted plots inside. I’m curious how long until we can harvest these vegetables."

He added with a chuckle, "Make sure to send me some of the first batch."

"Little Pearl, I’ve never grown vegetables before. Do you know how long these will take?"

[Normally, one to two months. But since I gave them a light rain of spiritual energy yesterday, you’ll probably be eating them in a week.]

"Oh? You can summon spiritual rain now?"

The system feigned exhaustion.

[Not really. This world’s spiritual energy is too thin. I can only manage a tiny sprinkle occasionally.

But you should eat plenty of these vegetables—they’ll have trace amounts of spiritual energy. Over time, the effect will rival even a Body-Tempering Pill.]

Squawk!

Gasp!

Whoa!

As the group listened in, they also noticed the faint green sprouts from seeds planted just the previous afternoon.

Led by Emperor Mingxi, the officials turned to Old Minister Wang, who had personally overseen the planting.

Though he’d overheard Yue Fuguang’s explanation, Old Minister Wang still rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

No ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌‌‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‌ ‌‌ ‌ ‍illusion—the seedlings were already several centimeters tall!

In his decades of working with crops, he’d never seen sprouts grow so much overnight.

This spiritual rain truly is miraculous!

He carefully crouched by the cucumber and pepper seedlings he’d planted, marveling at the tiny green leaves. In his eyes, they were utterly adorable.

His hesitant, almost reverent gestures nearly made Yue Fuguang laugh.

"Little Pearl, won’t this ‘forced growth’ make them suspicious?"

Yue Fuguang defaulted to her usual tactic—letting others handle the explanations.

Sure enough, before the system could reply, quick-witted Old Minister Wang spoke up.

"Your Majesty, these seeds were already on the verge of sprouting when we planted them.

Combined with the greenhouse’s warmth, it’s no surprise they’ve grown so quickly overnight."

Brushing dirt from his robes, he added, "Given their vigor, these leafy greens will likely mature faster than outdoor crops. As for the fruiting varieties—"

He gestured at the unfamiliar plants Yue Fuguang had described earlier. "While I can’t say for certain, the greens should be ready soon."

Emperor Mingxi stroked his beard, playing along with delighted surprise. "Is that so?"

Old Minister Wang nodded solemnly. "I wouldn’t dare deceive Your Majesty."

"Marvelous!" The emperor beamed at Yue Fuguang. "You heard him—don’t forget to send me some when they’re ready."

Yue Fuguang smiled in agreement.

What followed was a scene of the emperor and his ministers behaving like hedgehogs in a melon patch—peering, poking, and asking endless questions. Even the most curious child couldn’t rival their enthusiasm.

Yue Fuguang felt thoroughly drained.

The system chimed in sarcastically.

[Master, if they knew a single fruit could have dozens of varieties, they’d lose it.

We’ve got pink and white strawberries, yellow-watermelons—next year, expand the plots and blow their minds.]

"Why bother? That’s too much work. I came to this world to retire, not farm."

Slacking off—if conditions weren’t ideal, she’d make them ideal!

In her past life, she’d never held a job, but decades of schooling (and those dreaded 8 a.m. classes) were hardship enough.

Just when she was about to enjoy a carefree life of leisure and rental income—poof! Gone!

Worst of all? She hadn’t even spent all her money! Unbearable!

Now that she could complete missions just by gossiping and dropping hints, she intended to lounge like a flat pancake.

"Just so we’re clear—I’m capping my lifespan here at eighty. Not a day more."

[But… the Divine Lord instructed you to live a ‘hundred years’! Isn’t twenty years shortchanging it?]

Yue Fuguang scowled.

"Little Pearl, whose side are you on—mine or my master’s? Also, for immortals with tens of thousands of years to live, isn’t ‘a hundred years’ basically a curse?"

The mortals overhearing this were green with envy at the thought of a century-long life.

Their eyes shone brighter than the stars above.

Now, hearing her outrage, they realized how cruel the "curse" truly was.

An immortal’s lifespan—tens of thousands of years! They were utterly, painfully jealous.

"Master, don't bully little Pearl for being small! We clearly agreed you'd live a full mortal lifespan of a hundred years."

"I refuse. Eighty years at most—not a single day more. Once the time comes, I’ll shed this mortal shell. Aren’t you the Realm-Breaking Pearl? If Master doesn’t come for us, you can still tear through the boundaries and take me away, can’t you? Come on, be a dear, Pearl~~"