[Farming + imagination + face-slapping and cool writing + soft science fiction + infrastructure + anti-routine]
The entire universe is building starships, developing armaments, and rushing into the depths of the galaxy.
Lu Chen, the last student of the Imperial Agricultural College - was laid off. Everyone advised him to change his major: "Farming? Are you crazy? The Empire is building the tenth-generation starship, and you are fucking digging?"
He said nothing, stuffed a bag of 300-year-old potato seeds and a book of soil science notes left by his great-grandmother into his backpack, and boarded the spacecraft numbered KR-7.
KR-7, nicknamed the "Death Star". Heavy metals in the soil exceed the standard by 300 times, the atmosphere contains sulfur, and the surface temperature differs by 120 degrees. The first nineteen batches of colonial teams were wiped out. The empire treats it as a garbage dump - throwing away discarded parts, medical waste, and Lu Chen.
Everyone is waiting for his name to appear on the twentieth batch of death lists.
Then a month passed. Three months. Half a year.
The imperial border war broke out, the expeditionary force's supply line was broken, and the soldiers starved to death in the battleship. When the military requested the KR-7 - Lu Chen squatted beside the vegetable field and pointed his muddy finger behind him: "Want potatoes or tomatoes? Sold by the pound. No military stamps, but an agricultural reconstruction order."
The imperial general had signed a surrender document in his life, but he never thought of signing it in front of the vegetable field.
