I Cultivate the Twenty-Four Solar Terms

Li Changfeng squatted on the ridge of the field, staring blankly at the cracks in the earth. The heavens had not sent rain for half a year, his father lay in bed waiting to die, and the whole village was waiting to starve. He struck the ground with his hoe, but instead of water, he unearthed a rusty, broken hoe. The moment his fingers touched the blade, visions of the cycle of seasons flooded his mind—Start of Spring, Rain Water, Awakening of Insects, Spring Equinox... The twenty-four solar terms seemed to come alive, flowing through his blood. He struck the parched earth with his hoe, and a clear spring gushed forth. From then on, while others cultivated immortality through spirit stones, elixirs, or killing for treasures, he cultivated through farming. Plant one grain in spring, harvest ten thousand in autumn. While others meditated in their caves, he planted rice seedlings in the fields. While others endured heavenly tribulations struck by lightning, his tribulation was the ripening of his crops. When the spiritual rice across the mountains and plains surged in golden waves under the autumn wind, the entire cultivation world fell silent. Li Changfeng wiped his sweat and grinned, "The land never lies." — Description from novelcodex.org