Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2872 My Own Seed

Beneath the moonlight, in the green waves, lies the hope of a new life for the military reclamation city. Ye Yuze bent down and parted the wheat leaves, his fingertips touching the dew-kissed tender shoots. The cool touch spread along his fingertips, reminding him of the first morning he saw wheat seedlings sprouting on the Gobi Desert—

Back then, my father protected the seedlings with his rough hands, saying, "Once the seedlings take root, they won't be afraid of wind and sand."

"Old Ye, Monsanto's lawyer's letter has been sent to the farmers."

Yang Geyong's voice was cold, and he held a stack of photocopies in his hand:

They claim that the wheat in our military reclamation city used their 'lodging-resistant gene fragments,' and demand compensation of eighty US dollars per acre, or they will sue.

Ye Yuze straightened up, the night wind lifting the hem of his clothes:
"Lodging-resistant genes? Our wheat had a high lodging rate last year, so we didn't dare use their technology at all. This is deliberately causing trouble, trying to discourage farmers from planting our seeds."

He took out his phone and called Ye Mao: "Have the Ministry of Justice work with the Academy of Agricultural Sciences to compile our breeding records and gene sequencing reports into a chain of evidence, and hold a press conference tomorrow."

"In addition, tell the farmers that all litigation compensation will be borne by Wotu Gene. Anyone who dares to withdraw from planting will never be able to get our new varieties again."

Ye Mao excitedly shouted, "I know, Dad, you don't need to worry about these things!"

Now, his second son, Ye Mao, is also a department-level cadre, and the desert transformation and new energy projects he is in charge of have achieved remarkable results.

Now, Ye Yuze is investing heavily in seed research, which coincides with the project Ye Mao is in charge of, so Ye Mao is naturally proud.

He had been very concerned about what was happening here. Even if his father hadn't asked him for help, he would have done anything he could to help.

After hanging up the phone, the lights in the distant laboratory remained bright. Professor Zhou's team was working through the night to complete the global patent application for "Haidao 8".

Allen's team is currently debugging the newly arrived cryogenic centrifuges.

Ye Yuze suddenly remembered what Allen had said during the day: "Monsanto's patents are like barbed wire; they seem airtight, but they're actually full of gaps."

Wild crops hold countless unregistered genes; that's the real treasure trove.

That's true. In the old warehouse of the Agricultural Research Institute in Junken City, those cloth bags labeled "wild soybeans from 1978" contain the nematode-resistant genes that Monsanto has coveted for many years.

The former director once said that when the collection team found this soybean plant in a pile of rocks at an altitude of 4,000 meters in the Kunlun Mountains, there were still ice crystals hanging on the pods.

"I'm going to the Agricultural Research Institute tomorrow."

Ye Yuze said to Yang Geyong, "We need to quickly sequence the genes of those wild germplasm resources; we can't wait for Monsanto to come over because they smell it."

Yang Geyong nodded, then suddenly pointed northwest:

"Is the smart greenhouse over there almost finished? Allen said he wants to grow desert plants in it. He thinks the drought-resistant genes of cacti can be used in wheat."

"Let him do what he wants."

Ye Yuze laughed, "We're investing so much money in building labs so that scientists can make something of themselves?"

The next morning, the auditorium in the military reclamation town was packed to capacity. The farmers clutched Monsanto's lawyer's letter, their faces filled with anxiety.

Several gray-haired veterans sat in the front row; they were the pioneers of the military reclamation city, their medals gleaming in the sunlight.

Ye Yuze walked onto the podium, and two pictures lit up on the large screen behind him.

On the left is Monsanto's patent certificate, and on the right is the agricultural research institute's breeding record book from 1987.

“Everyone, look carefully. Monsanto claims we used a gene fragment they registered in 2015, but our breeding materials were stored in the National Germplasm Bank in 1987, 28 years earlier than theirs!”

The audience erupted in chaos. A wrinkled old soldier stood up:

"Yuze, we believe in you! Back then, your father led us to reclaim wasteland, and we still managed to have a bumper harvest even when we mixed seeds with horse manure. Now that we have such a great laboratory, how can we let outsiders bully us?"

"Yes! We will not abandon our race!"

"If you want to sue us, we'll go with you!"

Shouts rose and fell, and the veterans stood up in unison, their medals forming a golden sea in the morning light.

The press conference had just ended when Ye Yuze's phone rang. It was the Hainan Academy of Agricultural Sciences calling. Professor Zhou's voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement:
"Xiao Ye! 'Hai Dao No. 8' has taken root in the saline water! Its root system is five times more developed than before, and the problem during the grain-filling stage has been solved!"

When Ye Yuze arrived in Hainan, a light drizzle was falling on the experimental field at the foot of Wuzhi Mountain.

Professor Zhou stood in the paddy field wearing rubber boots, holding a heavy ear of rice in his hand, the grains so full they were about to burst the husk.

"Look at this root system!"

He uprooted the rice plants, revealing a dense network of white fibrous roots.

"We used Allen's epigenetic modification technology to make mitochondrial genes more active in saline-alkali environments. Now, even with a salinity of 0.8%, we can still produce such good rice!"

Beside the paddy fields, several young researchers are using drones to survey the rice paddies.

On the screen, red monitoring points are embedded in the green waves of rice, and the growth data of each rice ear is transmitted to the database of the military reclamation city in real time.

"This is the agricultural Internet of Things system of the Warrior Group."

Professor Zhou pointed to the screen and said, "The growth trajectory of each seed can be traced. In the future, farmers will be able to use their mobile phones to know when to water and when to fertilize."

Ye Yuze squatted on the edge of the paddy field, watching the raindrops splash on the rice leaves, and suddenly understood why Professor Zhou had rejected Monsanto's eight million annual salary offer—

In the eyes of scientists, the best reward is never money, but seeing the seeds they have cultivated take root and bear fruit in the soil.

When I returned to Junken City, the gene bank of Wotu Gene had just been completed.

In a temperature-controlled warehouse at minus eighty degrees Celsius, rows of silver liquid nitrogen tanks are neatly arranged, storing wild crop seeds collected from all over the country.

The old director led the young people to label each jar. In addition to the crop name and the time of collection, the labels also included the name of the person who collected the samples.

"This is wild wheat that was found in Lop Nur in 1992. The collector was Wang Jianjun, but unfortunately he passed away the year before last."

The old director stroked a jar, his voice trembling, "His son is now one of our researchers. He said yesterday that he wanted to finish the stress resistance research that his father hadn't completed."

Looking at the three words "Wang Jianjun" on the label, Ye Yuze suddenly recalled the old soldier crying and saying at Lao Liu's funeral:
"Old regimental commander, don't worry, we'll still be farming the land in the military reclamation city."

It turns out that some seeds not only grow in the ground, but also in people's hearts.

Just then, Allen rushed in, holding a gene sequencing report in his hand:
“Mr. Ye, we found a nematode-resistant gene in wild soybeans from 1978! This gene sequence is not in Monsanto’s patent database, so it can be used in our soybean varieties!”

Professor Zhou followed him in, waving the global patent certificate for "Haidao No. 8": "The International Patent Office has approved it! It's been granted simultaneously in 38 agricultural countries. Monsanto can't take it even if they want to!"

The door to the temperature-controlled warehouse was open, letting in a rush of cold air, but it couldn't stop the heat inside. The young people cheered around the report, while the old director wiped away tears and suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Don't get too excited yet! Starting tomorrow, we'll conduct germination tests on these seeds. I want to see them grow with my own eyes!"

Monsanto's price war continues, with seed prices in Asia falling again and again, even to the point of selling to farmers at a loss.

But none of the farmers in Junken City wavered – Wotu Gene's insect-resistant cotton had just been harvested in the experimental fields, with a yield per mu 20% higher than Monsanto's varieties, and they didn't need to buy their pesticides.

Drought-resistant corn has been successfully trialed in the Gobi Desert. Its root system can reach three meters underground, saving 30% more water than Monsanto's varieties.

"Monsanto's seeds are beautiful, but our seeds are down-to-earth."

Old Zhang, who has farmed all his life, said, "Their corn needs imported fertilizer, but our corn can grow with just a handful of sheep manure. This is the kind of seed that we farmers want."

When these words reached Monsanto's Asia headquarters, the CEO was in a fit of anger.

The reports on the desk showed that their market share in China had dropped by 15 percentage points in three months, while Wotu Gene's seeds had already been sold to Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan.

"A bunch of losers!"

He slammed the report on the ground, exclaiming, "You can't even handle a country bumpkin from the military reclamation city!"

The R&D director said nervously, "Their insect-resistant cotton uses new gene-editing technology, circumventing our patent; their drought-resistant corn uses wild germplasm resources, which we haven't even registered..."

"Wild germplasm resources?"

The CEO jumped to his feet. "Investigate! Where did their seeds come from!"

Two weeks later, an investigation report was placed on his desk: the seeds from Wotu Gene contained wild soybeans from the Kunlun Mountains, wild wheat from Lop Nur, and wild rice from Hainan Island...

These are resources that Monsanto couldn't acquire despite spending a lot of money back then.

The report concludes by stating: "The collectors of these seeds were mostly Chinese military reclamation soldiers who spent forty years traversing China's mountains and deserts to build the world's largest germplasm bank for wild crops."

The CEO stared at the words "forty years" on the report and suddenly remembered the Military Reclamation Museum he had visited—

Inside are displayed hoes, water bottles, and seed bags mixed with horse manure used by soldiers who were reclamation soldiers back then.

At the time, he scoffed at these outdated ideas, thinking they should have been thrown into the trash heap long ago. Now he understands that it is precisely this persistence in "outdated" ideas that has given China's seeds the confidence to fight against monopolies.

In late autumn at a California farm, Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong stood in a soybean field, watching a combine harvester drive by, and golden soybean pods fell in a flurry.

This land, which was once planted with Monsanto's "Pioneer" series, is now planted with "Junken No. 1" cultivated by Wotu Gene.

"Allen said that this variety is more resistant to disease than Monsanto's and can be used for seed production."

Holding the test report, Yang Geyong said, "Last week, Brazilian farmers came to inspect the plantation and wanted to introduce it. The orders are already booked until next year."

Ye Yuze picked up a fallen bean seed. Sunlight filtered through the seed's veins, casting dappled patterns of light on his palm.

He suddenly remembered a saying his father often said: "Good seeds don't need to be blown away; the soil will speak for itself."

The laughter of children could be heard in the distance. Ye Fei led a group of third-generation military settlers running along the ridges of the fields, holding glass bottles filled with seeds in their hands.

They were going to send the seeds of "Junken No. 1" to farmers all over the country, with a note attached to the bottle:

"These are our own seeds; once planted, they will yield a harvest."

As Ye Yuze watched the children's backs, he suddenly realized that the so-called inheritance is about the parents handing over the seeds to them, and then they handing the seeds over to the land and to the next generation.

Just like the poplar forest in the military reclamation city, its roots are connected underground, and its leaves face the wind in the sky, generation after generation, never interrupted.

As night fell, the laboratories in the military reclamation city remained brightly lit.

Allen and Professor Zhou are discussing how to introduce the cold-resistant genes of wild wheat into rice. The young researchers are drawing gene maps in front of the computer, while the old director is leading people to measure the height of wheat plants in the experimental field.

Ye Yuze stood on the rooftop of the laboratory, looking at the military reclamation city under the moonlight—

The lights of the gene bank shone like stars, the outline of the experimental fields resembled a sleeping giant, and the distant poplar forest whispered in the wind. He knew that Monsanto's counterattack would continue—patent wars, price wars, propaganda wars… this battle would be long and arduous.

But he was not afraid. Because the land beneath his feet was buried with the sweat of countless soldiers who had worked on land reclamation projects.

In the laboratory sits a group of scientists who are willing to dedicate their lives to seeds.

The warehouse contains wild germplasm resources accumulated over forty years.

More importantly, in the heart of every Chinese person lies a seed of resilience—

This seed took root when Shennong tasted hundreds of herbs, and has never withered despite five thousand years of wind and rain.

The first rooster crowed in the distance; dawn was approaching. Ye Yuze turned and went downstairs. In the laboratory, Professor Zhou was cheering as he looked at the microscope:
"Found it! The flood-resistant gene in wild rice!"

Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on his gray hair like a layer of gold dust.

Ye Yuze suddenly smiled. He knew that new seeds were about to sprout.

Ye Mao grinned. The once fair-skinned and delicate young man now had dark and rough skin.

He stood in the desert, looking at the endless solar panels and the greenery interspersed among them, his teeth appearing exceptionally white.

Grandpa Kurban stroked his long beard, picked up the leather bag, took a sip of yogurt, and then handed it to Ye Mao.

"Thank you, Adasi, we now have land."

Ye Mao took it and drank a big gulp, then grinned. This is way too sour! There wasn't a single drop of sugar in it!
"You originally had land, but the desert took it away, and now I am simply returning it to you!"

Kurban, beaming, looked with delight at the high-ranking official sent by this country and asked hopefully:
"Do you have a wife? My granddaughter is as beautiful as a snow lotus from the Tianshan Mountains. If you become my granddaughter's husband, I will give you a hundred sheep and three cows as a dowry."

Ye Mao was both amused and exasperated: "Grandpa Kurban, didn't I tell you I even have a son?"

Kurban shook his head: "The past was better. I could marry three wives. If you had married my granddaughter, you wouldn't have left here..."

Ye Mao was taken aback and couldn't help but feel a little touched. This old man wasn't forgetful; he was selectively forgetful. However, there were some things he really couldn't do.

The phone rang; it was his aunt calling. Ye Mao answered it reluctantly.