Part 1: Silent Growth
Sunlight filtered gently through the gauzy curtains, painting warm patches on the living room floor. Han Yue lounged lazily on the couch, her long legs tucked under a plush throw, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Little Zhihan sat at the foot of the couch playing with a soft cloth book, while the dog dozed beside him, occasionally twitching in a dream. The bunny nestled near Han Yue's side, munching slowly on a crisp slice of apple. The two kittens, one white and one black, wrestled playfully on the carpet, tumbling over each other in a blur of soft paws and tiny squeaks.
With nothing pressing to do and the peaceful hum of domestic quietude around her, Han Yue exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
Then, on a whim, she opened them again—and slipped her consciousness into the Space Jade Amulet.
The familiar tug of her mind took her inward, and when she opened her eyes again, she stood beneath a clear sky in the transformed inner space.
What greeted her made her pause—stunned.
Gone were the rough edges and incomplete corners. The space workers—those tireless, silent constructs of spiritual energy—were wrapping up the final touches. Polishing. Sweeping. Straightening signs. The air itself felt clearer, fresher.
In the farming area, the once-barren plots were now neatly sectioned, divided by low wooden fences. The seeds she'd provided were already sown, the rows marked with carefully carved wooden planks bearing their names. Beans. Cabbage. Tomatoes. Onions. Each sign labeled in clean, black script, giving the whole area the feel of a miniature agricultural garden.
She could already sense faint spiritual energy pulsing below the soil—growth had begun.
Her footsteps carried her to the newly completed forest section. Flowerbeds stretched in vibrant rows, already planted with seeds and early blooms. Lavender. Marigold. Chamomile. Wild rose. Cosmos. Each bed had a small flower photo label, staked on thin bamboo poles.
Dotted across the flowerbeds were tidy little bee hives, made of smooth wood and nestled in shaded corners. The occasional hum of bees buzzed gently in the air, harmonious rather than intrusive. Not far above, birdhouses hung from trees, some occupied—she spotted a bright yellow bird peeking out—while several nests were already built into the branches.
Her gaze drifted to the small animal areas.
The ducks now had their own shimmering pond, a shallow crescent of water framed by soft grass. Just beyond it, the geese honked from their larger, fenced-off pool, already swimming with leisurely pride.
The chicken area surprised her most.
Instead of a traditional coop, the structure looked like a stack of wooden beehives, cleverly designed to give each hen a nesting box while still allowing them to roam in a fenced free-range zone. A fine mesh and wooden fence enclosed their area, keeping predators out while letting sunlight and air in.
She stood in the middle of it all—still in awe.
It was no longer a barren magical relic.
It was a living, breathing world.
Part 2: A Mountain of Preparation
Han Yue walked through the warm sunlight of her space, the spiritual breeze brushing gently past her shoulders as she made her way toward the mountain area—a section she hadn't visited in some time.
As she approached, her eyes widened in astonishment.
Neatly aligned fences stretched across the foothills and winding slopes, ranging from modest pens to enclosures that spanned dozens—even hundreds—of miles. The layout was orderly and expansive, almost like a blueprint come to life.
The first section housed cattle—tall, strong bulls and gentle cows grazing calmly behind sturdy fences. Next to them, another stretch held sheep and lambs, clustered under the soft shade of trees, their wool already fluffy with health. Further along, goats and ewes nimbly stepped over rocks and grassy patches, their enclosure slightly more hilly to match their spirited nature.
Each section had its own pre-made barn, constructed with warm wood and designed with care. The barns doubled as shelters and storage, filled with rows of hay stacks, where the animals could eat or curl up to rest. Along the sides, automated feeders had been installed—sleek, magical devices that dispensed fodder on a fixed rhythm, their operation silent and efficient.
Further up the mountain, a larger open space caught her attention—shadier than the rest, with broad, flattened earth carved into a deep, oval pit. Inside, the mud was thick and rich, just the way pigs liked it. This was the pig territory—designed for freedom and wallowing comfort.
The pit was enormous, large enough to house a hundred pigs, with sloped edges for easy climbing and a clean-water runoff trench to one side. The outer perimeter was fully fenced, providing both safety and space.
All around the mountainous slopes, space workers were scattering the final elements: grass seeds, wild vegetable shoots, and hardy fruit sprouts. The seeds tumbled through the air like stardust, guided gently by spiritual energy. These would take root naturally, creating a self-sustaining grazing environment for all the animals in the space.
It was a quiet, efficient flurry of final touches.
And it was nearly done.
Satisfied—deeply and truly—Han Yue finally let out a breath.
She stood still for a long moment, soaking it all in: the tranquility, the sheer readiness of it all. A space built not just for storage, but for sustenance, survival, and one day—freedom.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she blinked—and withdrew her consciousness.
Back in the living room, Han Yue reached for a piece of dried mango and popped it into her mouth.
Little Zhihan had changed the channel to cartoons and was happily waving his arms at the screen. The dog snored softly on the rug. The bunny was now curled into a round fluff ball. One kitten was asleep on her ankle, the other stretched out like royalty on a pillow.
The television flickered quietly.
Han Yue leaned back, eyes half-lidded.
Let others scramble and plot. She had a world within her grasp.
Today? She would rest.
Part 3: Goodbye, Retirement
Just as Han Yue was settling deeper into the couch, a piece of sweet dried mango still melting on her tongue, she thought blissfully:
"Ah... this must be what retirement feels like."
Little Zhihan let out a soft giggle beside her, and the dog rolled onto his back with a sigh. Even the sunlight seemed to agree—warm, golden, and utterly peaceful.
Then her phone rang.
A harsh ringtone that pierced the serenity like a falling brick.
Han Yue groaned and reached for it with one hand, not even opening her eyes as she answered.
"...Hello?"
"Miss Han, this is Secretary Wen."
The tone was calm. Too calm. Which only meant bad news.
Han Yue sat up instinctively, her relaxed posture already crumbling. "What is it now?"
"Just calling to inform you that tomorrow morning, all the temporary workers in your space will be blindfolded and escorted to a remote drop-off point. I'll be personally handling the transport and payouts for their labor, so you don't need to worry. After that, they'll be... let go."
Han Yue blinked. "...Let go?"
"Set free," Secretary Wen clarified dryly. "But legally and with full compensation. No one will remember where they were hired or what they worked on. You know, plausible deniability and all that."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "...Anything else?"
"Quite a bit, actually," he replied briskly. "Tomorrow, you also need to return all the rented machinery. That includes farming tractors, mountain diggers, warehouse lifters, and so on. Please have them moved to your designated warehouse for pickup by 9 a.m."
Han Yue's mouth fell open slightly. The illusion of peace was shattering like glass.
"And," Secretary Wen continued cheerfully, "starting tomorrow afternoon, you'll be flying on a private jet for your next scheduled assignment: visiting the surrounding small island countries."
She stared blankly into the air. "...Island countries?"
"Yes, quite a few. You may recall my hoarding request from a week ago. The inventory has piled up — over 20 collections per country. You'll be visiting:
Mango Country
Kimchi Country
Indomine Country
Papaya Country
Coconut Country
And others."
Han Yue groaned internally. That many? Seriously?
Secretary Wen, as if reading her mind, rattled off the list. "Each country's specialties have been fully acquired. That includes local delicacies, snacks, medicines, food, raw materials, and regional specialties. We've even scooped up bankrupt businesses, expiring products, and surplus stockpiles. Everything's now stored across our foreign warehouses. They're full."
"And I need to…?"
"Collect. Sort. Label. Assign storage priorities. You know—the usual." A beat. "Also, you'll be on a tight schedule, because I've pre-ordered takeout from dozens of restaurants, food stalls, buffets, and corner stores. Delivery teams are already lined up according to your flight route. So you'll need to act accordingly."
Han Yue could only let her head fall back against the couch cushion with a soft, lifeless thud.
Her dream of retirement was officially dead.
"Understood," she muttered bleakly.
"Oh, and one more thing," Secretary Wen added almost as an afterthought. "When you reach Papaya Country, you may encounter the sleeping volcano site you mentioned interest in. There might be a chance to collect it for your private use. If you do decide to extract it, I've already prepared the containment protocols."
Han Yue sat upright again. "...You prepared what?"
"Containment protocols. Lava stasis crates, heat seals,anchors, a reinforced transfer net... the usual. You might not need them, but it's good to be prepared."
The call ended with a polite click.
Han Yue stared blankly at the screen for a long time.
"...Retirement, huh," she whispered, dead inside.
Little Zhihan leaned over and offered her a cookie. The bunny hopped up into her lap. The kittens nuzzled her arm.
She took the cookie, chewed slowly, and sighed like someone on the verge of tears.
"Alright. Back to work."