Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Lu Cian didn’t enjoy managing the company. He had no talent for it, but outsiders thought otherwise—after all, "like father, like son." Since his elder brother was so capable, surely Lu Cian must be just as impressive.

Later, when people realized Lu Cian wasn’t as outstanding as his father or brother, they lamented his "untapped potential," wondering if it was because his elder brother was too exceptional.

Perhaps it was because he heard it too often—the pity, the regret—that Lu Cian began to feel hurt and upset. He questioned whether he was truly useless, unable to measure up to his brother or accomplish anything meaningful.

But then, by accident, he saw the truth clearly. Those people weren’t genuinely regretful or sympathetic—they were mostly driven by jealousy, or perhaps they simply enjoyed stirring up trouble.

Originally, Lu Cian could have lived a carefree, happy life as a spoiled rich kid.

But one day, he overheard someone mocking him, calling his family "nouveau riche," ridiculing him as a useless, spoiled brat who only knew how to eat and drink—a coward who didn’t even dare to join them at the club!

Lu Cian still remembered their words: *"Saying his family is strict? More like he’s afraid we’ll see through his act. What parent wouldn’t want their child to strive for success? He couldn't even come up with a convincing excuse."*

*"His brother’s so capable—Lu Cian must be scared his brother will think he’s after the family business. Too afraid to even try."*

*"Honestly, their family’s just new money. Provincial people really have no vision—and spineless to boot. We had to ask him repeatedly, how pathetic!"*

*"Don’t say that too loud. What if he hears and goes crying to his parents? We’ll be in trouble."*

*"Right, better keep our voices down. Wouldn’t want him to cry to mommy, haha…"*

It wasn’t a matter of competition—because there was no competition whatsoever.

Lu Cian had never even considered such a thing. That was his own brother, and the company was built by his brother’s own efforts. Why would he fight for it? What right did he have?

Back then, he was young, still finding his footing in life. His parents had always doted on him, making up for his childhood illnesses.

As he grew older, they never pressured him to join the company or achieve great things—they just wanted him to be happy, to pursue his interests, to do what he loved. They had no lofty demands for him.

In such an environment, Lu Cian had never once thought about accomplishing something remarkable.

Until he heard those mocking words behind his back…

They could insult him all they wanted, but dragging his brother and parents into it? That was going too far.

Back then, Lu Cian had been content to coast through life, perhaps subconsciously believing he wasn’t cut out for anything, so why bother trying?

He thought the company only needed his brother—why should he push himself? To compete with his own sibling?

His grades were much better than those spoiled rich kids, but compared to his brother, he fell short.

People would say, *"They’re both sons—how can the difference be so huge?"*

*"Maybe the parents deliberately spoiled the younger one to prevent sibling rivalry?"*

Some even went further, trying to stir up trouble, eager to see a family torn apart—absolutely vile.

When someone had no shame, sarcasm rolled right off them. They’d either take it as praise or simply ignore it.

But those with morals and principles? They’d understand without needing everything spelled out. So why bother explaining?

They were all seasoned players—who was really an innocent lamb? Even if they hadn’t experienced it, they’d surely heard of it.

A truly innocent person wasn’t ignorant—they just chose to believe in kindness, having never faced malice.

Those who understood, understood. Those who didn’t were just pretending.

Lu Cian couldn’t be bothered to explain himself to those spoiled brats. After all, you can’t wake someone who’s pretending to sleep.

That was when he decided—he would join the company. Even if he couldn’t achieve greatness, he could at least support his brother. Most importantly, he wouldn’t let those people slander his family.

In the end, their words had affected him…

Some people were utterly incompetent yet loved to dictate others’ lives, acting as if they were the ultimate authority.

They probably just wanted to spread their own misery, like shit-stirrers.

Life was about happiness—so what if he loved to have fun?

But he couldn’t say that out loud. People would think he was putting up a front.

Still, Lu Cian had come to a realization. No matter how you looked at it, compared to his brother, maybe he had been a little insecure before.

Now, he didn’t care anymore. If others were going to step all over him, how much lower could he sink?

Once he decided to make something of himself, Lu Cian believed in his own ability—so he went for it.

He wanted to shut up those talentless brats who dared call him useless, to make his parents and brother proud.

Unfortunately, he had just started university, barely begun to prove himself, when he got transported to another world.

Looking back, it felt like such a waste—all those sleepless nights studying for the gaokao, all for nothing.

But it wasn’t too late.

In this other world, Brother Nan had been truly good to him—protecting him, taking care of him. Lu Cian now genuinely considered him a brother.

And since they were brothers, of course the younger one had to do something for the elder.

Their goal was to build a force capable of standing against the Empire. Right now, they only had barely a thousand Insect People—the road ahead would be neither short nor easy.

Having claimed this new stellar region, their first task was to develop the central planet, then expand outward to the surrounding worlds, gradually building their strength.

When it came to construction, the necessities were obvious: labor, resources…

They had nothing. They lacked everything. Everywhere, there were countless tasks, both major and minor.

Building a new nation required a new system, but right now, they were building from the ground up.

Priority number one, they needed infrastructure—basic construction.

Lu Cian stood in the freshly cleared ground, sketching on his data pad: *Step one—farming.*

Food, drink, shelter, sanitation, sleep—these were the five fundamentals for any Insect Person’s survival.

Right now, they could only guarantee sanitation. Sleeping meant sleeping rough or inside the ship.

This was no way to live.

The ship still had some food and water, but they couldn’t rely on it forever. Self-sufficiency was a must.

Lu Cian now had to figure out how to mobilize the Insect People for infrastructure projects—how to teach them farming.

A group of "cosseted" females—teaching them political strategy or battlefield tactics might have come more naturally.

As for farming, these Zerg females certainly wouldn't know how.

With the advanced technology of the Zerg, there's no need for Zerg labor in farming.

However, Lu Cian wasn't skilled in intrigue, strategy, or command—farming was his only skill.

"Brother Nan, do we still have any unground fruit left from the dough used to make meat patties earlier?"

When Lu Cian offered to help, Nair Inan agreed. At first, he didn’t think the other could provide any substantial advice, but after hearing his detailed reasoning, Nair Inan suddenly realized that Lu Cian indeed had the ability to contribute.

For the colonizing of the new planet, their most pressing issue at the moment was indeed food.

"I'll have Damon follow you."

Upon hearing Lu Cian's request, Nair Inan put Damon under his command, instructing him to follow Lu Cian's orders completely.

"Mr. Lu, is there anything you need me to do?"

Damon respected Lu Cian. Without a few of his suggestions during the meeting, they might not have found a new place to settle down by now.

Lu Cian repeated what he wanted to know.

Hearing this, Damon took out his Space Button and retrieved a bag from it.

Inside the bag were the crop fruits Lu Cian had been searching for.

Lu Cian picked up a thumb-sized fruit and examined it. The fruit emitted the same strange odor as the dough.

He wasn’t sure if this fruit could serve as a seed, but since he didn’t see any missing parts, he guessed it could probably be planted.

Additionally, Lu Cian asked Damon to send some Zerg scouts to various directions of the planet, searching for any plant crops he had noted in the plant database.

Lu Cian had specifically selected hundreds of crops that could serve as staple foods and be cultivated on a large scale.

He also drew images of some Earth crops.

Nature follows patterns—perhaps similar plants might exist here. He handed these references to the Zerg tasked with the search.

If they could find just one or two, combined with the fermented dough, their long-term food supply would be secured.

Lu Cian pulled out his record board and flipped through it, finding the data on the fermented dough fruit.

The formal name of the fermented dough fruit was Prickly Fruit, so named because its outer shell had a ring of thorns to protect its fruit from being eaten by plant-eating beasts.

The Prickly Fruit had an unusual growth pattern—instead of growing one fruit per plant, it clustered together like grapes, with multiple fruits growing in a bunch from a single stem.

After reading the introduction, Lu Cian concluded that the strange odor of the Prickly Fruit likely came from a decoy flower resembling a trumpet flower that bloomed alongside it.

Unlike other non-fruiting decoy flowers, this one acted as a decoy to confuse plant-eating beasts. It had only the outer appearance of a flower, protecting the real flower as it completed fertilization and developed the fruit until maturity, when the fruit would fall naturally.

This was an evolutionary adaptation to protect the seeds.

The true flower of the Prickly Fruit was only a quarter the size of the decoy flower, safely hidden beneath its petals to ensure the fruit's growth.

The decoy flower sampled the air to detect the presence of natural predators. Thus, Lu Cian deduced that while gathering information, it likely blended various airborne compounds and transferred them to the adjacent fruit, resulting in the Prickly Fruit's foul odor.

The Prickly Fruit itself wasn’t toxic, but its foul stench was enough to deter some plant-eating beasts.

However, this method wasn’t foolproof. Some beasts, when starving, ignored the smell or taste of food—they ate solely to fill their stomachs.

There were even some beasts that, to adapt to survival, gradually had their senses dulled, ensuring they could survive harsh conditions.