He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

Lu Yanzhi's throat moved, but he didn't speak.

Shen Tang took out a small bottle from her pocket—it contained the spiritual spring water she had brought from her space. There was only half a bottle, which was all that her space had produced so far, enough to help with purification.

"Use this to dilute it." She handed the bottle to Lu Yanzhi.

Lu Yanzhi took it, poured a little into the mortar, and then put the cut-off root parts in to grind.

The two worked together very well—Shen Tang controlled the grinding intensity and time, while Lu Yanzhi was responsible for filtration and centrifugal separation.

The only sounds in the laboratory were grinding, centrifuges, and the occasional hushed conversation between two people.

In that instant, she seemed to return to the days in her previous life when she was in the laboratory, working alongside her teacher.

"The temperature must not exceed 40 degrees Celsius, otherwise the enzyme will be deactivated."

"clear."

"The pH value should be controlled between 7.5 and 8."

"good."

"Now add the flocculant—slowly, don't pour it all in at once."

"Um."

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

The sky outside the window changed from gray to deep blue, and then to pitch black.

In the beaker on the lab bench, a pale yellow liquid swayed gently in the candlelight.

"It's done." Lu Yanzhi put down the test tube and breathed a sigh of relief.

Shen Tang picked up one of the test tubes and looked at it under the light—the liquid was clear and transparent, without any impurities.

"The concentration is high enough," she said. "It's ready to use."

Lu Yanzhi neatly arranged the eighteen test tubes into the portable insulated box and then closed the lid.

Shen Tang turned to look at Lu Yanzhi.

He leaned against the lab bench, looking at the empty glass container.

Those samples—the ones he stole by climbing over the wall, the ones that had been kept in the freezer for three months, the plants that carried his only hope for three years of research—are now nothing but a clump of chopped root remnants.

It's okay, there will be more in the future.

She also has a yard full of plants, which she will give to him for a maximum of one month.

He neatly arranged the eighteen test tubes into the portable insulated box and closed the lid.

"I'll deliver the medicine to the hospital first, and explain the dosage and usage to Dr. Chen while I'm at it." He glanced at the exhausted Shen Tang. "You go back and rest; we have a tough battle to fight tomorrow."

"Teacher Lu, I'll go, I'm young." Although the person in front of him was a young man, Shen Tang always felt that he was an old man in his sixties. It was too inhumane to make an elderly person stay up all night and run errands.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Lu Yanzhi rolled his eyes at her. "I'm only a few years older than you. You should go back now. How can you save people tomorrow if you're too sleepy to keep your eyes open?" As he spoke, he carried the insulated box out the door, got on his bicycle, and rushed to the hospital.

As Shen Tang watched his retreating figure, an indescribable feeling suddenly welled up inside her.

In my past life, it was late at night in the laboratory.

As she passed by Lu Yanzhi's office, she saw a folder on the screen named "Incomplete-001".

Creation date: 1979.

Last modified date: 1979.

He kept that project his whole life and never deleted it.

Shen Tang took a deep breath.

Teacher, please wait a little longer. The plants in the space will grow back soon. I will definitely help you develop this hypothesis so that this matter will not become a regret in your life.

……

Military hospital. Emergency department on-call room.

Dr. Chen was reviewing the wounded soldiers' records, his brow furrowed—several critically injured soldiers had fevers that wouldn't come down, reaching 39.5 degrees Celsius, and conventional antibiotics were proving ineffective.

"Dr. Chen."

The door was pushed open, and Lu Yanzhi walked in carrying an insulated box.

"Teacher Lu?" Dr. Chen stood up. "It's so late—"

"Antibacterial agent extracted from traditional Chinese medicine." Lu Yanzhi placed the insulated box on the table and opened it. "Shen Tang designed the formula, and I'm responsible for the purification. Eighteen vials, enough for a while."

Dr. Chen took a test tube and looked at it under the light—a pale yellow liquid, clear and transparent.

"usage?"

"It can be administered intravenously or intramuscularly. Five milliliters per dose for adults, every six hours." Lu Yanzhi pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "This is a record of the formula and purification process; Shen Tang asked me to give it to you."

Dr. Chen took it and glanced at it—salt-tolerant plant root extract, multiple antimicrobial peptide complexes, natural lysozyme…

His hands trembled slightly.

"This formula—if it really works as well as the theories suggest—"

"You'll know once you try it," Lu Yanzhi said. "Anyway, it's made from pure natural plant extracts, so the side effects are much fewer than those of chemically synthesized antibiotics."

Dr. Chen picked up a test tube, turned around, and walked out: "Come with me."

The two walked quickly to the intensive care unit.

Lying in the hospital bed was a man in his forties—the workshop director of a machinery factory. His thigh had been pierced by flying metal fragments, the wound was severely infected, and he had a persistent high fever.

Dr. Chen glanced at the thermometer—39.6 degrees Celsius. This patient had the most severe infection; they had already used the hospital's highest-level antibiotics without improvement. Now, they had no choice but to try anything, hoping Shen Tang's medicine would work.

"Prepare for injection."

The nurse quickly prepared the syringe. Dr. Chen drew five milliliters of medication and slowly injected it into the vein.

Then the two of them stood by the hospital bed and waited.

five minutes.

ten minutes.

twenty minutes.

The nurse rechecked the temperature—39.2 degrees Celsius.

"It's gone down!" the nurse exclaimed in a low voice.

Dr. Chen's breathing quickened. It really worked! The patients here could be saved!

He pressed down on the man's wrist to take his pulse—the pulse had become slightly calmer than before.

"Continue to observe," he said, suppressing his excitement. "Take their temperature every half hour."

He turned to look at Lu Yanzhi, his eyes shining:

"This potion—it's simply—"

He didn't finish speaking, but Lu Yanzhi could see the shock and excitement in his eyes.

Lu Yanzhi stood by the hospital bed, his gaze falling on the wounded man's face, which had calmed down slightly.

This person was struggling with a high fever just now, but now their breathing has become steady.

He recalled the moment in the lab when the cabbage was cut open, and the sharp pain he felt in his heart.

But now—

Worth it.

Those plants didn't lie in a freezer and become a set of data, nor were they written into a paper and turned into a few lines of cold conclusions.

They saved people.

A living, breathing person.

Perhaps this is their true value—not proving who is right and who is wrong, not proving which hypothesis is true, but saving a life at a critical moment.

Agricultural science is about feeding people, while medicine is about saving lives. In the end, agricultural science and medicine are essentially the same thing.

They are all serving the people.

Lu Yanzhi's throat tightened slightly.

"I'm going back now." His voice was a little hoarse. "Tell us the follow-up results tomorrow."

"Good, good, good." Dr. Chen nodded repeatedly, his gaze still fixed on the test tube. "Thank you for your hard work."

Lu Yanzhi walked out of the ward.

The corridor was quiet. The emergency room lobby was still bustling in the distance, but this floor was exceptionally quiet because of the soundproofing of the intensive care unit.

He stood by the window at the end of the corridor, looking at the gray sky outside.

The east was already showing the first light of dawn.

He hadn't slept all night, but he wasn't sleepy at all.

Ever since he was assigned to the Northwest, he had felt like he had a knot in his stomach, but now he felt an inexplicable sense of relief—as if the huge rock that had been weighing him down for three years had finally loosened a little.

He turned and walked towards the stairs, his steps very light.

……

Three o'clock in the morning.

Shen Tang pushed open the door.

Mu Qinghan sat at a makeshift desk beside his wheelchair, a stack of on-site reports and resource allocation lists spread out in front of him. The desk lamp cast a warm yellow glow, but it couldn't dispel the weariness in his eyes.

Casualty statistics: Three dead, twelve seriously injured, and thirty-seven slightly injured.

He personally reviewed and signed off on every aspect, including the rescue plan for seriously injured patients, blood bank inventory, the rate of drug consumption, subsequent allocation of supplies, and work to comfort the families.

He looked up when he heard the door open.

The moment he saw Shen Tang, his gaze softened from calm.

"You're back?"

"Yes." Shen Tang walked in, her voice a little hoarse. "The medicine has been purified. Teacher Lu has already sent it to Dr. Chen."

Mu Qinghan looked at her—she smelled strongly of medicine and earth, had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was a mess, but her eyes were bright.

Are you tired?

"fine."

"come over."

Shen Tang walked over.

Mu Qinghan reached out and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling it—

She stumbled and ended up sitting on his lap.

"Why--"