The Starfield Farming Sovereign (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 212

Chapter 212 A Farm Too Bare

Finished

Zaylee’s emotions churned as she listened. The last time she’d tasted the food Elizabeth had sent over, all she’d thought was that it was unbelievably delicious.

After eating it, she’d felt refreshed and clear–headed, and she’d vaguely guessed it might be good for mental power.

But she’d never imagined that on a brutal frontline battlefield, those ordinary–looking foods could actually bring such immediate relief to severe mental power damage. The implications were enormous.

“I understand now.” Zaylee shot to her feet at once. She picked up the storage button meant for Cristian, then added hers and Trevor’s portion before handing everything to Jeremy. “Jeremy, hurry. Add this too. Arrange takeoff immediately. It has to get to Cristian safely and as fast as possible. No, wait.”

After a moment’s thought, she turned and hurried into the inner room. When she came back, she was holding a top–tier preservation wristband designed to maintain an item’s vitality and energy as much as possible. She transferred all the strawberries, potatoes, and sweet potatoes Elizabeth had prepared into it.

Its preservation effect was far better than an ordinary storage button. That way, everything would still be in the best possible condition by the time it reached the front lines.

‘Use this instead. Tell Cristian this is Elizabeth’s goodwill, and that these things may be useful on the battlefield. Make sure he takes them seriously.” Zaylee placed the wristband in Jeremy’s hands with solemn

care.

Jeremy knew this was no small matter. His expression turned grave. “Yes, Mrs. Zaylee. I’ll go to the landing pad myself and oversee the preparations. I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Watching him hurry away, Zaylee leaned gently against her husband’s shoulder, her eyes full of worry. “I hope these things really can help those children at the front, and keep Cristian safe too…”

Trevor wrapped an arm around her shoulders and looked out the window at the darkening sky and the faint outline of a ship preparing for takeoff in the distance. His voice was low and steady. “They will. That child of ours always finds a way to surprise people. This time, her surprise may become one of the keys to turning the tide.”

As night fell, a small high–speed transport ship bearing the Hewitt family crest shot through Centria Planet’s sky like an arrow released from the bow, racing toward the perilous border sector.

Under the afternoon light of Tycoon Farm on Planet A001, sunshine filtered through the simulated sky and spread evenly across the neat rows of farmland, while the air carried the damp scent of earth, the fresh fragrance of crops, and that distinct farm smell of vigorous, thriving life.

After the chaos of a frantic harvest and a wave of remote bulk purchases, the farm had finally entered a brief period of rest and planning.

Beside a field where the potatoes had just been harvested and crop rotation was about to begin, Elizabeth sat cross–legged on the ground with absolutely no concern for appearances.

Chapter 212 A Farm Too Bare

Fireshed

In her left hand was a bright red apple bursting with sweet fragrance. She took a loud, crisp bite, and juice flooded her mouth at once. Her right hand wasn’t idle either. She kept picking up plump, glistening strawberries and popping them into her mouth, squinting in satisfaction.

And yet beneath that leisurely enjoyment, there was a faint crease between her brows. As she chewed on the sweet fruit, her gaze stayed fixed on the freshly turned brown earth before her. Her mind, however, had already drifted far away.

She was thinking about life. No, not that. She was thinking about a problem far more immediate and practical than life itself–seeds.

With a sigh, Elizabeth swallowed her mouthful of apple.

Crisp apples. Sweet strawberries. Piles of potatoes and sweet potatoes stacked like little hills inside her storage button. It sounded abundant, didn’t it?

But for someone who had once been a spiritual botanist capable of getting anything she wanted, this was downright pitiful.

Back in the day, her spirit fields had been filled with pearl–like grain, rows of lush vegetables, fruit trees bending under the weight of their harvest, and even Divine Essence Root that would’ve made powerful cultivators jealous. That was a real farm, a self–sustaining paradise with everything she could ever need.

But now?

Every day, her staple food was either potatoes or sweet potatoes, with a few strawberries and apples now and then to break the monotony.

Where were the leafy greens? Where were the other fruits? Where were the spices and seasonings?

She was getting to the point where she could barely remember what it felt like to stir–fry a simple plate of

greens.

For a soul that loved good food and had long been used to a wide variety of ingredients, this kind of monotonous diet was basically a slow form of mental torture

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify