Right in the middle of the budding greenery, Xu Feng reclined in the heart of the greenhouse he had lovingly cultivated. The once empty planters were now brimming with a varied array of seeds, representing both the practical and the decorative.
Fruits would soon dangle from their vines, vegetables would shoot up from the soil, vibrant flowers would stretch toward the sunlight, and tubers would lay nestled beneath the rich earth. It was a microcosm of life, each plant a show of what this planet had birthed.
The ambiance, though still in its infancy, held a captivating charm. It lacked the dramatic allure and sweet fragrances of the Nanshan estate's ample greenhouse, but even in its growing state, it possessed an enchanting calmness.
Enclosed within its glass walls, Xu Feng could almost imagine the birds playfully flitting among the leaves, serenading the air with their songs—a vision at odds with the grim reality of the outside world.
