Chapter Twelve: Arrival at Peach Blossom Star

It only took three hours by starship to reach Peach Blossom Star. The inconvenience lay in the fact that Peach Blossom Star was still a barren planet, with no fixed starship routes. The only option was to hitch a ride on other starships passing by.

If only she had a small flying vessel, Hua Yun couldn’t help but sigh. Over this period, she had learned that interstellar transportation came in countless forms, with myriad functions and astonishing speeds.

Flying vessels were incredibly fast and highly maneuverable, capable of leaping between planets. Most were privately owned, unfortunately—and their prices were staggering.

For now, Hua Yun could only drool over flying vessels she saw online.

Truly, a barren planet was just that. The empathic sensor confirmed it, showing a ninety percent similarity to what she saw with her own eyes; the differences likely reflected changes that had occurred recently.

Hua Yun crouched down and poured her mental energy into the soil, sensing something obstructing the flow of her spirit.

As expected of a barren planet, she thought. The land was infused with an extraordinarily strange force—something she had never encountered before. It was somewhat similar to the soil studied by the Botanical Academy in the original host’s memories, but this peculiar force was known throughout the interstellar community as suppressive energy.

To grow normal plants, the soil’s suppressive energy elements had to be minimized; otherwise, the plants either wouldn’t mature or would mutate into hostile aberrant flora or undergo other abnormal transformations.

Hua Yun pulled up a map of Peach Blossom Star. She needed to choose a starting point and carefully plan how to develop this planet.

According to the Academy’s professional evaluation standards, which were also the Alliance’s unified criteria, planets were rated in areas such as architecture, vegetation, fauna, safety, and livability.

The main planet earned a professional rating of A due to its safety, architectural clusters, and climate suitable for general living. However, because of overcrowding and low greenery, it could only achieve an A rating in those aspects as well.

Even so, the main planet remained a coveted home for all.

After flying in her hovering sphere for some time, Hua Yun finally spotted a small river. Mountains rose in the distance, dotted sparsely with vegetation that appeared to have grown recently.

“All right, this is the place,” she decided. A spot with mountains and water—how could it not be a good location?

With that in mind, Hua Yun descended from the hovering sphere and settled it not far from the riverbank.

The hovering sphere was Academy-issued standard equipment for barren planet development, serving as both transport and lodging for students. It was, in essence, a small mobile home worth having.

Hua Yun resolved to try planting some seeds first. Fortunately, she had brought some from the Botanical Academy before departing.

She opened her livestream next. This account had been set up by the Academy as a channel for interaction between herself and the audience, and it was the primary means of gathering public ratings.

What should she name the livestream?

It had to be eye-catching and appealing. Public ratings were not decided by just a few individuals; the more participants, the more weight the scores carried. If the numbers reached a certain scale, even professional evaluations would have to yield.

Of course, the public couldn’t just give arbitrary scores—otherwise, wealthy families could simply buy armies of fake reviewers and take control of an entire planet’s rating.

All of this was monitored by the Star Network!

With that in mind, Hua Yun unhesitatingly typed: “Graduation Project: What If You Get Stuck with Barren Planet Development?”

She even added several nervous emoji faces for effect.