The summer sun in Chen Valley filtered gently through layers of mist, casting soft golden light over rows of leafy green vegetables. Between the newly paved road and the older paths worn down by decades of foot traffic, a quiet revolution continued—one that made barely a sound but stirred ripples in every household.
Lin Feng's small cooperative had now officially registered as "Chen Valley Agricultural Development Ltd."
It was, on the surface, a modest business: several greenhouses, a small logistics team, a handful of fresh produce offerings sent through cold chain to a few regional urban centers. But what no outsider could see was how deeply the foundation had been laid beneath.
---
Inside the control room built beside the training center, Lin Feng stood before a wall covered in screens and maps.
There was a large touchscreen table in the center, displaying a satellite view of Chen Valley and the surrounding five counties. On it, he had marked every farm he had either bought through shell entities or rented under long-term leases.
The numbers were staggering.
2,400 mu of farmland under hidden control.
30+ villagers now working as full-time staff.
8 training graduates promoted to team leads.
5 branded agricultural products in testing.
2 major e-commerce partnerships in negotiation.
And most importantly: zero external visibility.
Xu Yuhan walked in, carrying two bottles of herbal iced tea. She handed one to Lin Feng and sat down across from him.
"You know," she said, sipping, "at some point, someone's going to wonder how a 20-year-old with no official investment funding is coordinating all of this."
Lin Feng's smile was faint. "That's why we layer the companies. And why every large purchase is routed through different LLCs. Each one appears isolated. Nothing traces back to me."
"You're sure it's airtight?"
"Not airtight," he admitted. "But airtight enough for now."
She studied him. "And when you move to the next stage? When someone does notice?"
"I'll have my story ready."
"And what story is that?"
He looked out the window.
"That I'm just a facilitator. A rural innovator with friends, volunteers, and a few anonymous donors who believe in the cause."
Xu Yuhan laughed softly. "You're preparing your alibi like a criminal."
Lin Feng's expression didn't change. "In this country, sudden success is suspicious. Best to look like a lucky fool than a careful genius."
---
Later that day, Lin Feng drove out to a remote section of Chen Valley. The road narrowed into a dirt track, then disappeared entirely into a forested path. He continued on foot, stepping over roots and ducking under hanging branches.
Eventually, he reached a clearing—a forgotten quarry with uneven terrain, surrounded by tall bamboo and wildflowers. In the center stood a construction team of six, wearing plain clothing but moving with silent efficiency.
"Boss," one of them greeted him with a respectful nod.
Lin Feng returned the nod. "Report."
The team leader pulled out a folder.
"We've leveled the south side. Underground chamber is complete—20 by 30 meters, reinforced with waterproof cement. Power grid installation begins next week. And we've begun digging the secondary tunnel system per your request."
"Good. Keep it off satellite coverage. No light pollution. And check signal interference—this area must remain completely dark to outside scans."
"Yes, sir."
This wasn't a bunker.
It was a processing center—one that would eventually house precision-grade packaging, inspection, and small-scale refinement units for materials too unusual to explain.
Like ore from the Inner Realm.
Like rare jade found in "abandoned hills."
Like forest wood that couldn't be traced to any known species.
Lin Feng was laying the groundwork for the next stage.
Not just farming.
Extraction. Manufacturing. Controlled release.
He walked through the site quietly, eyes scanning every detail. Pipes, vents, airflow systems—nothing could be out of place. He wasn't just building for now. He was building for ten years from now.
---
That evening, back at the villa, Lin Feng sat on the balcony, reviewing a document from the legal team he had quietly retained in Shenzhen.
It was a proposed nonprofit shell.
"Green Flame Foundation."
Publicly, it would focus on ecological awareness and sustainable village projects. Privately, it would serve as a funding pass-through for his operations—donations routed in from multiple fronts, quietly cleaned and reallocated to on-ground projects.
It also offered something more valuable than money: public credibility.
Once the Foundation was visible, government entities would stop seeing him as a threat and start seeing him as an ally.
Xu Yuhan arrived as the sun set, holding a USB drive. "The video's ready."
Lin Feng plugged it into his laptop.
On screen: a short documentary, just under 7 minutes. It showed the trainees, the village, the produce, the logistics. It was real, unpolished, yet deeply moving. The final scene showed Zhao Ming holding a phone, checking an order, smiling.
Voiceover: "When you invest in the land, the land invests in you."
Lin Feng watched it twice.
Then nodded. "Send it to the eco-grant committee. And… upload it to our WeChat channel. Quietly."
"You think it'll go viral?"
"No. But I think it'll reach the right people."
---
By the end of the week, the video had 2,000 views.
By the end of the next, it had 18,000.
Then a mid-tier lifestyle influencer reposted it.
And suddenly, the WeChat channel grew by 12,000 followers overnight.
Messages poured in.
"Where can I buy these products?"
"Can I visit the farm?"
"My brother's village wants to learn. Can you help?"
"Are you hiring?"
Xu Yuhan grinned as she scrolled. "Congratulations. You're an underground celebrity."
Lin Feng, as always, remained calm.
"Visibility is useful," he said. "But only when we control the narrative."
So they put out one controlled interview—with Lin Feng's identity concealed, voice altered, and profile described only as "a rural strategist."
In it, the interviewer asked, "Why aren't you taking credit?"
And the edited voice replied:
"Because credit isn't the goal. Impact is."
---
Meanwhile, inside the Inner Realm, development had accelerated.
Lin Feng now had:
A terraced farming system growing premium-grade herbs.
A small livestock breeding zone using rotational pens.
A deep mine shaft accessing rare ores he hadn't fully classified.
A seed archive of 200+ heirloom varieties from his online collection.
Time here flowed 100 times faster.
Which meant that one weekend's work outside could become a decade of growth inside.
He had begun carefully growing long-term assets:
Black walnut trees that would take 30 years outside, but matured in weeks inside.
Wild ginseng that fetched millions per root, cultivated over months here.
A private bee colony, now producing dense, mineral-rich honey.
He extracted only small quantities to avoid suspicion.
But with each item came a story.
"A rare honey from ancestral mountains."
"A ginseng root found deep in forgotten terrain."
"A hardwood slab from a centuries-old forest."
All legal.
All believable.
All completely controlled.
---
Back in the real world, a letter arrived.
From the Provincial Department of Rural Affairs.
Invitation: attend a private roundtable with eight other rural entrepreneurs.
No media.
Closed door.
Lin Feng stared at the paper.
This was a sign.
Not that he was famous—but that he was now being watched.
He had crossed the invisible threshold.
He wasn't a nobody anymore.
And now… every move mattered.
---
That night, he stood alone outside his house, looking out over the sleeping valley.
The stars shimmered above like watchful eyes.
Xu Yuhan joined him quietly.
"Thinking about the invitation?"
He nodded.
"It means they're curious," she said.
"And curiosity can become control," Lin Feng replied.
"Or… it can become opportunity."
He glanced at her.
She smiled, gentle but firm.
"You're not hiding forever, Lin Feng. Not when you're changing lives like this."
"I know," he said softly. "But when I step into the light… I want it to be on my terms."
She didn't argue.
Because she knew he would.
---
End of Chapter 21