Her Celestial Farm on the Scrapyard Planet novel Chapter 331

The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland

Chapter 331 The Only Way In

The Kingdom’s gaze had never been so wholly fixed upon this ancient planet.

And Elizabeth Schofield-the one responsible for it all-was still riding her little scooter, surveying her ever-expanding domain, seemingly having anticipated the coming storm and opportunity alike, yet appearing entirely unbothered by either.

Her rules stood where they always had, quiet and immovable, awaiting the scrutiny of every visitor who

dared to come.

More and more private spaceships-each one broadcasting a different degree of wealth and status- touched down near the farm, shattering the long silence and desolation that had blanketed this planet for so long.

Along the road leading to the farm, hover-cars and visitors on foot came in an endless stream, painting an almost surreal scene.

Yet the invisible barrier at the farm’s entrance-and the iron-faced guards stationed before it-had become an uncrossable wall for many.

‘Do you know who my father is?! Deputy Director of the Treasury on Centria Planet! One word from me. and this pathetic little farm of yours won’t last a day in the Kingdom!”

A young man dressed in the latest luxury streetwear stood red-faced, bellowing at Fiona Powell.

Two imposing bodyguards flanked him from behind, their presence meant to intimidate.

Fiona didn’t even look up. Her voice came out flat, rehearsed: “Visitors without a reservation, or whose reservation information matches the blacklist, are not permitted entry.”

You-!” The young man choked on his words.

He had, in fact, once joined an anonymous forum pile-on mocking Elizabeth as someone who “didn’t know her place.” He hadn’t imagined it could be traced back to him-let alone land him on that damned blacklist.

He tried to have his bodyguards force their way through. The moment the two men stepped toward the barrier’s range, an invisible force-supple yet utterly unyielding-shoved them back. They stumbled. barely steadying themselves, shock written all over their faces.

In the end, the young man turned and stormed off, face ashen, under the pitying and mocking stares of the crowd around him.

Another visitor-the daughter of a major energy conglomerate-tried a different approach after finding herself on the blacklist: money.

She stepped forward with practiced elegance, slid off her sunglasses, and let her refined, if imperious, face show. “People make rules,” she said to Fiona, her tone smooth. “People can be reasoned with. I’ve always admired your farm’s products. There may have been some misunderstanding before.”

The Coly Way he

She gestured to her assistant, who stepped forward and opened a sleek attaché case lined with high denomination Kingdom stellar coin cards.

“Consider this a token of goodwill-to make up for anything that may have been said carelessly Beyond that. I’m prepared to place long-term bulk orders for everything your farm produces, at three times the market rate. I trust that would be of considerable benefit to your operation.”

Her voice was measured, but loud enough for the waiting crowd nearby to catch every word

Three times the market rate. Long-term. Bulk orders. For any farm, it was an offer that would be nearly impossible to refuse.

The crowd turned to watch Fiona, waiting.

Fiona tilted her head slightly, her gaze passing over the case of stellar coin cards without a flicker of reaction. Her voice remained flat: “I’m sorry. Farm policy-no products are sold to blacklisted customers.

The smile froze on the young woman’s face.

She could not believe anyone would turn down terms like these.

‘You-you’d better think carefully! This offer won’t come around twice!”

‘I’m sorry.” Fiona only repeated herself.

The heiress finally turned on her heel and marched away, muttering curses about people who don’t know a good thing when they see it.”

Others went further still-attempting to bypass the main entrance and slip in from another direction.

Whether they tried skirting around the side fencing or skimming low over the boundary in small personal flyers, they all triggered the invisible barrier and its alert system the moment they drew near.

The mild cases were gently but firmly pushed back. Those who attempted to force their way through were met with a sharp electric repulsion and then escorted back to the main entrance by the farm’s patrolling guards, made to look the fool in front of everyone watching.

After failure upon failure-threats having gone nowhere, bribes having bounced back-some lett turious and humiliated, unleashing another wave of slander against the farm and Elizabeth as they went

This time, though, far fewer people joined in. More were whispering among themselves, quietly reassessing.

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