Big Data Cultivation
Chapter 1147: Full of Harvests

Chapter 1147: Chapter 1147: Full of Harvests

The canvas moved—clearly, someone was doing something.

Then, a loud shout rang out, "The ship’s moving! The ship’s moving!"

Indeed, the ship was moving. The water beneath its hull rippled and swayed.

This was quite normal. After all, the draft of a wooden ship couldn’t be the same as that of an iron one, could it?

Still, no one present seemed to think much of it. In such an enclosed environment, an occasional gust of strange wind wasn’t out of the ordinary.

One particularly responsible person called the First Checkpoint to confirm, "When our ship came in, did anything unusual happen?"

Technically speaking, a dock hidden in a cave couldn’t completely prevent outsiders from sneaking in—especially at the first checkpoint.

The first checkpoint was a relatively open area and might not even offer a view of the dock’s entrance.

It was at the second checkpoint where things became stricter, allowing a clear view of the dock itself.

The third checkpoint was even tougher. The space within the mountain cave wasn’t large, and access required proper credentials at a minimum.

That said, for an ordinary tourist, passing the first checkpoint was nearly impossible—most wouldn’t even qualify to step onto this stretch of beach.

The people inside the cave were unsettled. But the First Checkpoint responded, "Nothing unusual. There are barely a handful of people on the beach."

This beach offered decent scenery but was extremely remote. While holidays saw a few more visitors, hardly anyone actually made it to the beach—let alone past the First Checkpoint.

So, for the parties involved tonight, it seemed like just another routine task.

Even though they didn’t quite understand why the model needed to be moved here, well... it was just a model—how problematic could it really be?

The cost of this particular transfer wasn’t trivial. Among the crowd were both soldiers and local fishermen. The soldiers were already bound to secrecy, but the fishermen had to be compensated handsomely for adhering to confidentiality agreements.

In any case, tonight’s task was technically complete. As everyone relaxed, they began chatting idly. Even the ship’s noticeably deeper draft was shrugged off—thanks to the guards asserting it was just a trick of their eyes.

Around 4 a.m., the idle chatter wound down, and the group prepared to turn in. Out of nowhere, someone came running into the room. "This... who touched the model?"

The runner was a technical specialist, highly familiar with every detail of the dock and its surroundings. Generally, they remained low-profile.

"No one touched it," someone yelled back. "There was just some strange wind earlier."

"No, that’s not right," the specialist shouted even louder. "Something is definitely off. The bridge has changed!"

He pointed out the modifications to the bridge. Other guards—some of whom knew a bit about Klangbointe’s specifics—found his argument reasonable. They suggested inspecting what had changed in the bridge section.

After all, it was just a model. While it was fairly classified, there seemed no immediate need for excessive caution.

But they didn’t even get the chance to puzzle over the bridge. As soon as a corner of the covering canvas was lifted, the entire group froze in shock. Someone gasped sharply and shouted, "What the hell...?! Did someone swap the model?!"

The Klangbointe model was impressively realistic, featuring professional coatings. Yet the vessel now before them was even more sophisticated. From paint wear to the detailing below the waterline—which included attached marine organisms—everything was impeccably authentic.

At first glance, it looked like an actual warship.

Their astonishment deepened. "Holy shit," someone muttered. "It’s actually made of iron."

The technician, unable to suppress his shock, screamed, "This isn’t the Klangbointe! This is the Lexington! The Lexington—the Merrick frigate that just went missing!"

What happened next hardly needed elaboration. In less than 30 minutes, several jeeps arrived. Twenty minutes later, over a dozen vehicles pulled up, fencing off the area, while a battalion of marines secured the site.

Little Du was woken up at 4 a.m., grumbling about his interrupted sleep. But once he heard the details, his jaw dropped in utter disbelief. "What?! The Klangbointe model turned into the Lexington frigate?! Are you trying to get a psych evaluation?"

Yet the other person replied miserably, "Do you think I’m not desperate too? But it happened—the swap occurred during that gust of wind. We’ve combed through the surveillance footage; there’s no trace of anyone intervening."

Examining the footage frame by frame, they noted the canvas shifting significantly during the swap. The ship’s hull also appeared about 20 centimeters lower. However, for something of a warship’s size, this change was almost imperceptible unless one paid close attention.

The most shocking part was that not only had the swap gone unnoticed, but they couldn’t identify a single suspect.

Indeed, from the beginning of the night’s events until their conclusion—across that entire half-hour—not a single person had approached either the model or the vessel.

After his initial outburst, Little Du was inundated with photos and videos. It took him a long time to confirm that the vessel docked at the military port was, without a doubt, the Lexington frigate—the very one Merrick had been desperately searching for worldwide.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed Elder Yu’s number, only for the secretary on the other end to hesitantly explain: "Elder Yu is asleep. His recent insomnia’s been bad. He instructed that he not be disturbed unless Huaxia faces an armed invasion."

For fuck’s sake, I can’t sleep anymore, but you can? Little Du was so furious he nearly threw the phone. But a moment later, he burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Finally, at six in the morning, he managed to reach Elder Yu. The old man had just woken up and was yawning lazily, his tone nonchalant. "Oh, I don’t know about that. Gaining a frigate—isn’t that good news?"

"A frigate?!" Little Du exploded. "It’s armed with weapons—Tomahawk Cruise Missiles, anti-ship missiles, air-defense missiles... This is a massive haul!"

But Little Du’s attention had already shifted, and he pressed Elder Yu hard, demanding to know how it had all been orchestrated.

Elder Yu took on a leisurely tone that made Feng Jun grind his teeth. "Magic? Let’s just call it magic then... If they could make the Eiffel Tower disappear, why can’t we conjure up a Lexington?"

Little Du was incensed. "Then why don’t you conjure up an aircraft carrier?"

"Not impossible," Elder Yu replied coolly. "But let me ask you this—where would you park one?"

Knowing he couldn’t out-argue the old man, Little Du pivoted. "I just want to know who did this... and what happened to the Merrick crew aboard the frigate."

"The Merrick crew is dead," Elder Yu replied indifferently. "As for who did it, you don’t need to know."

Little Du nearly jumped out of his chair. "They breached a military harbor! Do you understand? A military harbor!"

Elder Yu’s voice turned icy. "Fine. I assure you that they’ll never enter a military harbor again. Content?"

Little Du found himself speechless. Unauthorized entry into a military restricted zone was a serious offense. While he could demand they hand over the culprits, Elder Yu’s promise that they’d sever ties with the navy left him in a dilemma.

After all, this kind of windfall was a boon for the navy. Pursuing the truth might only push them farther away—a prospect he found unacceptable.

The reality was clear: as long as Elder Yu resolved to shield someone, no one could force a confession out of him.

Feng Jun had also risen early that day and bumped into Elder Yu at the doorway.

Elder Yu beamed and gave him a thumbs-up. "Impressive. Truly impressive."

Feng Jun knew what the old man was referring to. He was quite pleased himself with last night’s flawless swap.

Still, he simply shook his head and feigned confusion. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Elder Yu gestured for his secretary to stop, then walked over and leaned in, lowering his voice. "A whole frigate—fully equipped with weapons. You’ve made an enormous contribution to Huaxia."

After a pause, he continued speaking softly, "I’m especially curious—how exactly did you sneak into the harbor?"

Feng Jun hesitated, coughed lightly, and replied in a low voice, "Elder, I didn’t bring a jamming device."

Elder Yu gave him an exasperated look. "With stakes this high, does it matter whether you brought a jamming device? Evidence is meaningless at your level. If someone really wanted to frame you, they could fabricate recordings."

Realizing the point, Feng Jun grinned. "Then you might as well think of it as magic."

If it had been the old days, Elder Yu might’ve stirred up some trouble over such a dismissive response.

But now, Elder Yu had adjusted his perspective and knew how to handle him. So, he asked seriously, "Let me confirm one thing about the Merrick crew’s remains..."

Before he could finish, Feng Jun replied decisively, "They’ll never be found."

That was the reassurance Elder Yu needed. The Lexington was now firmly in Huaxia’s hands. Barring extraordinary circumstances, the frigate would be considered permanently missing. Even if Merrick eventually discovered the truth, they could only grudgingly accept it—or negotiate discreetly.

Would Merrick find out? Absolutely. Confidentiality agreements weren’t foolproof. So many people had seen the Lexington. If the news didn’t leak now, it certainly would later. In many cases, secrecy merely restricted public knowledge.

Put more bluntly, secrecy meant prohibiting open discussions or using such information as evidence.

In short, Merrick would learn of the Lexington’s fate sooner or later. But without evidence, they could neither prove their case nor take legal action, leaving the matter unresolved at best—or resorting to covert retaliation against Huaxia.

While the frigate’s disappearance could be managed this way, human lives couldn’t. Should Merrick discover the crew’s fate, they could forfeit the vessel—but they’d demand an explanation for the deaths, at the very least the return of the bodies.

Otherwise, they could manipulate public opinion and slander Huaxia’s reputation to no end.

Feng Jun had already considered this issue, which was why his response was so resolute—they could try searching an entirely different dimension for the bodies.

Seeing that Feng Jun understood the gravity of the matter, Elder Yu relaxed and asked another quiet question: "Could you pull this off with an aircraft carrier?"