The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 458

Chapter 458 Foresight

Chapter 458 Foresight

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In the distance, the sun climbed higher, its light spilling across Mercury Plaza, over the laughing crowds, over the glistening the fruit and vegetables piled high on every table.

Wallace trudged homeward with his wife, both of them laden with bulging bags.

At the plaza’s edge, he stopped and turned, hesitation flickering across his weathered face. “Ms. Schofield,” he called back, “you folks coming back tomorrow?”

Behind her stall, Elizabeth straightened and raised her voice so it carried cleanly across the square. “Of course! From now on, Tycoon Farm will be here every day, right on schedule. Fresh produce, fully stocked, straight from source. Come by anytime.”

Wallace heard her. So did everyone else.

For a heartbeat, the plaza held its breath. Then the silence shattered into cheers, bright and rising, spreading like sparks through dry grass.

Word spread like wildfire.

Within a single day, the news that Elizabeth had brought her farm crew back to Mercury Plaza in full force had traveled across the entire planet of Centria.

By seven the next morning, a line had already formed outside the Mercury Plaza.

It stretched from the entrance across the street, curved around one corner, then another, until it disappeared somewhere down a side road out of sight.

People of all ages filled it. Arms hooked through shopping bags, carts rattling at their sides, children perched on hips. They leaned forward, craning for movement, unwilling to miss even a step of progress.

“I heard they’ve got fresh strawberries today!”

“Strawberries? That’s nothing. My neighbor said they’ve got dozens of things now. Vegetables, fruit, grains, the whole lot.”

“You’re kidding. Wasn’t it just two stalls before?”

“The farm expanded! My son–in–law works at the Interstellar Route Authority. They say Planet A001 is something now. Multiple cargo ships keep running shipments in and out.”

“Well then, I’m stocking up.”

The line buzzed with restless chatter, anticipation threading through every voice.

At exactly 8, Tycoon Farm’s staff stepped out to prepare the stalls.

The crowd surged forward like a breaking tide.

Fiona stood at the entrance, bullhorn in hand, shouting, “No pushing! Form a line! There are enough stalls and goods! Everyone will get their turn.”

No one listened.

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Chapter 458 Foresight

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Within seconds, long queues coiled in front of each stall, twisting and doubling back until the plaza was nearly swallowed whole.

At the strawberry stall, woman rose onto her toes, peering ahead, muttering under her breath, “Buy light, you people in front. Leave some for the rest of us.”

At the potato stall, an old man waved a bag in the air like a battle flag. “Give me 50 pounds! No, wait, 100 pounds!”

At the tomato stall, two middle aged women nearly came to blow over who had arrived first, until one of Fiona’s crew rushed over to mediate.

At the apple stall, a young mother held her toddler, the child’s tiny hand stretching toward the glossy red fruit, babbling about wanting to buy all of them.

At the grape stall, a sharply dressed man requested a hundred bundles in one breath, citing corporate perks, only to be turned down without hesitation. Purchase limits were absolute. No exceptions.

Wallace had come even earlier this time.

6 in the morning. First in line.

His wife had called him ridiculous. He hadn’t argued, just grinned to himself.

Now he stood off to the side, arms heavy with purchases, watching the endless lines with open satisfaction etched into his face.

“Wallace!” His friend shoved his way out of the crowd, arms likewise loaded. “Smart man. If you hadn’t warned me yesterday, I’d be queuing till noon.”

Wallace lifted his chin.

“What can I say?” he said, eyes gleaming. “I’ve got foresight.”

The other man burst out laughing.

The plaza roared with noise and life.

Stalls bearing the Tycoon Farm insignia sat shoulder to shoulder, laden with every kind of produce imaginable.

Scarlet strawberries. Grapes so dark they looked black. Golden apples. Jade–green vegetables. Radishes plump as pillows. Potatoes round as cannonballs. Sweet potatoes the size of soccer balls. Squashes and melons in shapes and colors most people

couldn’t even name.

A riot of abundance. A cornucopia made real.

The whole of Mercury Plaza had transformed into something like a grand agricultural fair.

And 20 miles away, at the Seafarm Supermarket flagship store, silence had fallen like a shroud

The Seafarm Supermarket occupied prime real estate in the heart of Centria’s capital district, the largest flagship location on the entire planet.

Every morning at 8, rain or shine, its doors swung open.

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