C6 Garden

After dinner, everyone busied themselves with their own tasks. As they departed, they couldn't help but cast a disdainful glance at Zhou Pu, who was unemployed. Lin Yun'er donned her tailored white suit and stepped out, the roar of sports cars echoing from outside. Zhou Pu had previously quit his job as a temporary courier due to his grandfather's passing, and now he was uncertain if he could return to it. It seemed more likely that he would need to find a new job or browse the talent market again. The resumes he had submitted online had vanished without a trace. Finding work these days was no easy feat.

The elder, Lin Yijing, noticed Zhou Pu's discomfort and suggested that a newlywed like him deserved some rest. He then invited Zhou Pu to join him in a game of chess. The chess set was made of pure white ivory, each piece as large as a palm, and the board was a tea table with an antique look, clearly a costly item. Lin Yijing was enthusiastic, engaging Zhou Pu in three games. Unfortunately, Zhou Pu's understanding of chess didn't translate to skill, and he lost all three games.

Chess is most engaging when the opponents are evenly matched. A one-sided rout can quickly become dull. Lin Dong appeared, eager to challenge his grandfather to a few games, inadvertently edging Zhou Pu out of his seat. Their match was a stark contrast to Zhou Pu's games; it was a tight contest with each player giving as good as they got. It took a while, but eventually, Lin Yijing clinched the victory with a clever move. He laughed heartily, clearly relishing the win, and eagerly set up the board for another round.

"Ha, you wouldn't understand such a game of intellect, you simpleton," Lin Dong remarked with a sly smile, glancing at Zhou Pu, who sat idly by.

Zhou Pu sighed, feeling belittled once again. He had learned chess from his grandfather, but rarely played. His grandfather had always been preoccupied with farm work, and his health had declined before they could play much more. Perhaps Zhou Pu's intelligence really wasn't high, and his technical skills were certainly lacking.

Back in his room, Zhou Pu turned the sofa upside down in search of the missing ring, but to no avail. Staring at the familiar ring icon on his phone screen, he had to accept the bizarre reality that the ring had somehow entered his phone. With thought reading now a reality, a ring entering a phone didn't seem too far-fetched. The real pity was that the ring was a family heirloom. How would one pass down a phone as an heirloom?

Zhou Pu tapped the Rings App once more, and to his surprise, the previously unresponsive app opened up, taking him straight to the Eye of Horus interface. The earlier three icons were gone, suggesting he had only one choice this time. A countdown flickered on the screen, accompanied by text: "One in ten thousand chance for the Eye of Horus ability to last 10 hours, 12 minutes, and 35 seconds. Can it really be that precise?" Zhou Pu watched the seconds tick away, feeling as though he was squandering something precious. The ability to read minds and uncover others' secrets was truly miraculous, yet here he was, letting it go to waste. Wasn't that a shame?

What should he do? How could he avoid wasting this opportunity? Should he delve into someone's privacy or unearth their deepest secrets? Should he ask for their phone and bank card PINs? After much contemplation, he abandoned these thoughts; such unethical actions were not in his nature.

Unexpectedly, a new button had appeared on the countdown screen. Upon clicking it, he discovered three text options:

One: My Secret Garden — Food is paramount, and safety comes first with food. Years of cultivation yield bountiful harvests; diligent watering bears fruit.

Two: My Secret Library — Books are the steps to human advancement, and this staircase is long enough to take you to the pinnacle.

Three: My Secret Pet Garden — The more people I meet, the more I find myself fond of dogs. Assemble your legion of mythical creatures.

Convinced by the Eye of Horus that these options were genuine, Zhou Pu pondered whether he was being offered a garden, a library, or a zoo. Understanding the value of these choices made the decision all the more difficult; each seemed appealing, yet choosing one meant potentially missing out on the others.

Then, the familiar ten-second countdown commenced. The relentless timer ticked away as his finger hovered indecisively over the options. He thought back to the novels he'd read, where protagonists received ancient medical knowledge and ascended to the pinnacle of life. To study medicine, one needed books, making the library the obvious choice. Perhaps it contained medical techniques, martial arts secret scriptures, or even the teachings of immortality. The thought of cultivating immortality, of transcending the mortal realm, made his heart race and his hand shake. As the countdown neared zero, he frantically aimed for My Secret Library. To his horror, due to his trembling, his thumb landed between "My Secret Garden" and "My Secret Library." What did this mean? Did he get both, or neither? Frozen, his thumb remained in place as the countdown hit zero, leaving the room silent except for the sound of his own heartbeat.

A new interface popped up with a notification:

"Lucky Trialist, since you did not make a selection, the system has defaulted to the first option—My Secret Garden.

The garden boasts fertile soil, ample sunlight, and an automatic temperature regulation suitable for plant growth. There are currently zero plants in the garden, and it is at construction level 1. Completing upgrade tasks will allow for garden expansion, and corresponding facilities will be upgraded and improved.

Note: You may only enter the garden once per day. Successfully planting the required plants will yield corresponding rewards. If planting fails, that plant will be permanently lost from the garden.

Would you like to plant a plant?

Yes.

1. Bush Lily (Difficulty: Beginner)

2. Seven-Colored Gourd (Difficulty: Intermediate)

3. Godleaf (Difficulty: Advanced)

He had heard of the bush lily before, known to be particularly challenging to cultivate—some even ranked it at the top of the most difficult plants to raise. He wondered if this bush lily was a variant, and if its difficulty was only beginner level, how much more challenging could the intermediate and advanced plants be?

Seven-Colored Gourd? Could it be related to the legendary seven gourds? Godleaf? More difficult than the gourds—surely it didn't grant immortality upon consumption?

If an ordinary flower died, it was one thing, but the Godleaf sounded formidable. If he failed to nurture it, he would have no place to mourn its loss. Moreover, the system's warning was clear: if it perished, it would never reappear. If the Godleaf were to be lost, the regret would be overwhelming.

Best not to aim too high at the start; better to take it slow.

He chose option 1. Bush Lily.

Enter the garden?

Yes.

As Zhou Pu confirmed his choice, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Once the sensation passed, he found himself in an unfamiliar room. It was small, barely the size of a bed, and much smaller than his new room. The walls were painted a soft green, and a light panel on the ceiling emitted a soft white glow, providing excellent lighting. The floor was bare, covered in black soil, and the air was refreshingly clean with a gentle breeze—though there were no doors or windows, the source of the breeze was a mystery. The temperature was a comfortable 20 degrees Celsius. In the corner stood a row of shelves with several empty flower pots, and on an empty stand lay a plastic sealed bag containing a white seed that resembled a lotus seed.

This must be the bush lily seed. Lacking proper tools, he improvised with a flower pot, scooping out a generous half-pot of black soil to bury the seed.

As he surveyed the limited space, he realized there was no water in sight. It dawned on him that the introduction had mentioned ample light and suitable temperature, but water was never brought up.

He recalled a lesson from science class: for a plant to sprout, it needs temperature, air, and water. Now, water was the missing piece. It made sense, after all. If everything was already provided, there'd be no need for personal care; one could simply leave the plants unattended. It looked like he'd have to make a daily commitment to watering them from now on.