At the ancestral hall of the Old Jiang Family on Panshi Ridge, Aunt Jiang Du had been living a peaceful life with her husband and child. It had been a long time since anyone had visited Panshi Ridge, not since Jiang Yue and the others came by.
But Aunt Jiang was very happy with her life now. Compared with the outside world, where people were struggling through one disaster after another, life on Panshi Ridge was simply too comfortable.
The ancestral hall wasn't large, nor was it surrounded by towering walls. It hadn't been turned into an end-of-the-world fortress, either, yet it offered a tremendous sense of security.
After all, although the ancestral hall didn't look imposing, with its low walls and modest size, and wasn't built as a sealed-off structure, it was the Old Jiang Family's ancestral hall—a legacy of the family's heritage.
It contained numerous wards, built for both attack and defense, and they did an excellent job of protecting Jiang Du and her family.
Forget petty thieves—even evil spirits and monsters couldn't easily breach the ancestral hall's defenses, much less launch any attack no one could have anticipated.
After the mutations, the once-barren land on Panshi Ridge had somehow grown fertile. Jiang Du could grow anything she planted, and every harvest was abundant.
The half-meter-long green beans Jiang Yue and the others had seen last time were even more outrageous now, with some growing to nearly a meter.
The vegetables and fruits were all exceptionally abundant, and they tasted even better than before.
The whole of Panshi Ridge belonged to their family alone. The land that once belonged to dozens of families was now cultivated by the two of them, and they'd turned the place into a veritable ecological park.
A few hours of work each day