In the early morning, I was awakened by a strange, clear birdcall.
The sound was completely different from that of an ordinary titmouse; it was louder, more piercing, and carried a certain metallic resonance.
I opened my eyes warily, my ice-blue pupils contracting in the dimness, my body reacting before my mind did.
My dragon tail stiffened soundlessly, and my ear fins twitched slightly, capturing all the sounds outside the cave.
The birdcall came from the direction of the cave entrance platform, very close.
I sat up gently, making no sound.
I deliberately minimized the friction between my grass mat and robes.
The Mountain-Cleaving Yue was right by my pillow.
I grasped its warm bronze short handle, stepped barefoot across the cool ground, and hugged the rock wall, moving silently to the edge of the cave entrance.
The morning light had just spilled over the eastern ridge, painting the platform in a soft, pale gold.
There, perched on the same rock where I had left the leftover bamboo strips yesterday, was a bird.
I did not know how to describe it.
It was no ordinary bird.
Slightly larger than a pigeon, its entire body was covered in feathers of a gradient azure green, transitioning from deep emerald on its back to pale lake green on its belly.
Most peculiar were its tail feathers: not soft down, but three long, translucent, pale blue fluorescent plumes, as if carved from the thinnest sheets of ice, swaying gently in the morning breeze and producing a faint, tinkling sound like wind chimes.
Its eyes were pure gold, the pupils slit-like, as it tilted its head to inspect the row of clay embryos drying on the lower tier of the bamboo rack.
The metallic-textured birdcall from just now had clearly come from it.
It seemed to sense my gaze.
Its golden eyes turned and met mine.
There was no panic, no flight; instead, it tilted its head, making a few short, “gurgling” sounds in its throat, like spring water dripping into a stone pool.
“System…
scan.” I whispered in my mind.
[ Ding~ Scan complete.
]
[ Target: Glaze-Feather Sparrow (Low-grade Elemental Organism, Water and Wind affinity) ]
[ Detailed Data: A small elemental symbiotic bird, commonly found in mountain valley regions with abundant water vapor and stable Spiritual Power.
Non-aggressive, with a clever but curious temperament.
Its feathers and tail plumes contain trace amounts of Water Essence, having slight soothing and purifying effects; its song aids plant growth (minor acceleration).
]
[ Behavioral Speculation: Attracted by the moist Earth Spiritual Aura contained in the clay embryos crafted by the Host, it has come to investigate.
No threat.
]
[ Special Note: The Glaze-Feather Sparrow is extremely sensitive to changes in the natural environment.
Its appearance usually signifies that the ecological stability and Spiritual Power circulation of the area are good.
If conditions permit, continued observation is sustainable; do not disturb.
]
Non-aggressive, attracted by the clay embryos, an ecological indicator species.
I quietly loosened my grip on the Mountain-Cleaving Yue, but I did not immediately step out.
Using the shadow of the rock wall, I silently observed this tiny visitor.
The Glaze-Feather Sparrow paced on the platform, its movements graceful, its slender claws leaving faint, damp prints on the rock.
It approached the row of clay embryos, its golden eyes intently examining the crooked little clay bowl, and gently tapped its edge with its beak.
The clay was already half-dry, its surface hard, and after two taps, the bird lost interest.
Instead, it noticed the roll of Ironwire Vine on the bamboo rack, hopped up to trample it, and let out a dissatisfied “gu,” seemingly disdaining its hardness.
The entire process lasted about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
Then, as if it had completed some kind of inspection, it took flight.
Its three ice-crystal-like tail feathers drew a pale blue arc of light in the air, leaving a clear, wind-chime-like aftersound.
It did not fly far, but instead landed on the dwarf pine leaning out from a rock crevice above the cave entrance, beginning to preen its feathers in the morning light.
I did not disturb it further.
I quietly retreated back into the cave and let out a long breath.
“Elemental Organism…” I murmured, my ice-blue eyes filled with a complex expression.
This was the first time I had seen and observed a truly “unnatural” creature up close.
The Glaze-Feather Sparrow’s existence reminded me more directly than any System description: this place was indeed no longer Earth.
But at the same time, it was also a kind of proof, proving that the place I chose to settle had a good ecological environment and stable Spiritual Power.
For someone who wanted to survive, farm, and build here in the long run, this was the best news possible.
And, it was truly beautiful.
I couldn’t help but peek out again.
The azure figure on the dwarf pine was spreading its wings in the sunlight, its three ice-blue tail feathers swaying gently in the wind, beautiful beyond reality.
Breakfast was still grilled fish and the leftover roasted Earth Yam Slices from yesterday.
As I ate, I opened the reward issued by the System last night:
[ Earth-Bell Tuber Planting Key Points Tips ]
The content was very detailed, far exceeding my previous scattered knowledge.
I read it carefully while munching on the slightly cool yam slices:
• Pests and Diseases: The primary disease is Late Blight (characterized by dark green, water-soaked spots on leaves; white mold appears on the underside of the spots in humid conditions).
It is crucial to implement crop rotation and ensure proper drainage.
In the early stages of the disease, a “Basic Fungicide” from the System Shop (15 Points/unit) can be sprayed.
Common pests include Cutworms and Grubs, which can be managed through deep plowing, manual capture, or by planting “Insect-Repelling Grass” (such as Borer-Expelling Grass, which is also effective against some underground pests) as a companion plant.
• Harvest and Storage: Harvest when the above-ground parts of the plant have withered.
Dig them up on a sunny day when the soil is dry, taking care not to damage the tubers.
After harvesting, place them in a cool, well-ventilated area to “sweat” for 2-3 days, allowing the skins to dry and harden, then move them to a cool, dark place for storage.
I meticulously noted down each key point in my notebook, my mind already racing with calculations.
The newly cultivated plot was 22 square meters.
The soil was somewhat clayey—not the ideal sandy loam for Earth-Bell Tubers—but I could compensate by building high ridges to improve drainage.
I had originally planned to save that plot for expanding my next batch of Jade-Needle Rice.
However, Jade-Needle Rice takes 120-150 days to grow, while Earth-Bell Tubers only need 90-120 days.
Perhaps I could fit in a crop of Earth-Bell Tubers before harvesting the Jade-Needle Rice?
It’s feasible.
I’ll mark off a small test plot of about five or six square meters at the edge of this land and plant a few rows first to see how they do.
If they grow well, I can expand the cultivation on a large scale next spring.
With the plan set, I put away the tableware and got ready to start today’s work.
The moment I stepped out of the cave entrance, I subconsciously looked up at that dwarf pine.
The Glaze-Feather Sparrow was still there.
It seemed to have finished preening and was half-squinting, its golden pupils narrowing into thin slits in the sunlight, a picture of complete leisure.
Seeing me look up, it opened its eye, glanced at me, and let out a short “coo” from its throat, as if saying “I know,” then continued to bask in the sun with its eyes half-closed.
I couldn’t help but curve my lips into a smile.
“Stay as long as you like,” I said softly, as if talking to myself.
I have set three tasks for the morning:
First, process the Ironwire Vine collected yesterday, try to make a bowstring, and look for bamboo suitable for the bow body.
Second, prepare for the test planting of Earth-Bell Tubers on the newly cultivated land: build ridges.
Third, if possible, I will search the edge of the bamboo grove for more suitable wood for bow-making, and also see if there are any bamboo shoots (the System says bamboo shoots sprout in late spring and early summer, and now it is already autumn, so there probably aren’t any, but I still refuse to give up hope).
The first task quickly encountered a challenge.
The Ironwire Vine was indeed tough, but the problem also lay in this very toughness.
I needed to separate it into finer fibers and twist them into an even rope before it could be used as a bowstring.
However, this vine seemed as if it truly contained iron; even cutting it with a Stone Knife was strenuous.
Splitting it completely into thin filaments was simply as difficult as ascending to heaven.
I tried various methods: using a Bone Awl to pry it apart along the grain of the fibers; soaking the vine in water to soften it; and even repeatedly striking it with the back of the Stone Knife to loosen it…
None of these yielded good results.
After struggling for nearly an hour, I only managed to produce a few crooked, unevenly thick fine vine strands, which completely failed to meet the requirements for uniformity and elasticity of a bowstring.
“Whew…” I wiped away my sweat, looking at the pile of semi-finished products on the ground with some frustration.
It seemed that bow-making was far from as simple as I had imagined; every step, from material processing to manufacturing techniques, required specialized knowledge and sufficient patience.
“System, are there any methods for the refined processing of Ironwire Vine?” I could only seek help.
[ Prompt: Ironwire Vine fibers have strong toughness, and conventional manual decomposition is highly difficult.
Recommended solutions: ]
[ 1.
Adopt the ‘Retting’ method: Soak the vines in flowing fresh water for 7-10 days.
Wait for the bark to separate from the woody part and for the fibers to naturally loosen, making them easier to split.
This method takes a long time, but the finished product is more uniform and tough.
]
[ 2.
System Shop: ‘Novice Plant Fiber Treatment Agent’ (15 Points/portion) is now available.
Soaking for 6 hours can achieve the same effect as retting for 7 days.
]
[ 3.
Ability Application: The Host can try to continuously apply an extremely small amount of ‘Water Essence Guidance’ ability to the water soaking the vines.
This can accelerate the fiber separation process (estimated time reduced by 50%), and the finished product may also contain a trace of Water Spiritual Energy, improving its toughness.
]
Retting for 7 days…
I currently don’t have the patience to wait for that.
But spending 15 Points to buy the Treatment Agent also feels a bit painful.
In that case, let’s try the third method; it’s a good chance to practice my ability.
I set to work immediately.
I placed those whole Ironwire Vines into a bamboo tube, filled it with fresh water, and set it in a sunny spot by the river where the current was gentle.
Then, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sank my mind into that small, still pool of water inside the bamboo tube.
Water Essence Guidance.
Unlike guiding the water to push the fish, this time the goal was to make the water “penetrate” into the interior of the vine, gently and continuously loosening its fibrous structure.
There was no clear direction; it was more like letting the “vitality” of the water resonate with the “toughness” of the plant.
It was much harder than pushing the fish.
There were no living instincts in the water to borrow strength from, and the vine simply offered silent resistance.
My mind repeatedly probed the boundary between the water and the plant fibers, like groping for a doorknob in the dark.
Sweat trickled down my forehead again.
I don’t know how much time had passed, but just as my spiritual power was nearly exhausted, I vaguely “felt” it: the vine’s outer skin seemed to have a single, extremely faint, almost imperceptible “looseness.”
I opened my eyes and panted.
The water in the bamboo tube remained clear, and the vine was still deep brown, showing no visible changes.
But when I touched it with my fingertips, it did seem a little softer than before?
“Better than nothing, I suppose…” I chuckled bitterly.
It seemed it would be unrealistic to directly craft a qualified bowstring today.
I’d let it soak in the water and use Water Essence Guidance on it every day; perhaps it would be usable in a few days.
After properly setting up the bamboo tube, I shifted my focus, picked up the iron hoe, and walked toward the newly cultivated land.
Creating ridges is a skilled task.
I remembered helping my father plant potatoes in our own small courtyard when I was a child.
He would always first use a hoe to carve straight furrows into the ground, then take soil from both sides of the furrows and heap it toward the center to form high, narrow ridges.
The backs of the ridges had to be patted firm and the furrows kept smooth, so that when it rained, water would collect in the furrows and slowly seep in, while the soil on the ridges remained loose and well-aerated for the potatoes to grow tubers.
I stood at the edge of the field, measuring it with my eyes.
The plot was about 8 meters long and 3 meters wide, not very large, but regular in shape.
With a planned ridge spacing of 50 centimeters, I could create about 4 ridges.
First, I used the Mountain-Cleaving Yue to drive sharpened wooden stakes into the ground at both ends of the field, tying them together with long, straight bamboo poles I had gathered from the bamboo grove to serve as reference lines.
Then, gripping the iron hoe, I began digging the first ridge furrow along the edge of the bamboo pole.
The soil was softer than when I had turned it yesterday, making the work much easier.
I smoothed the bottom of the furrow, then took soil from both sides, hoeing it one scoop at a time into the space reserved for the ridge in the center.
The clods of earth needed to be broken up, weed roots pulled out, and the sides of the ridges patted firm to prevent them from collapsing.
This is tedious work that requires patience.
The sun rose gradually, baking my back hot.
I took off my outer robe (a part of the System Clothing, shaped like a beizi), continuing to work in only my inner layer of plain white zhongyi.
Sweat soaked the fabric, sticking to my shoulders and back, while my Dragon Tail swayed frequently on its own, shooing away the occasionally curious flying insects.
When the first ridge took shape, I almost cheered out loud.
It wasn’t high, only about 15 centimeters, nor was it perfectly straight, with a slight collapse in the middle and a ridge back that wasn’t quite rounded enough.
But it was a “ridge.” It was the nursery bed I had personally prepared for the upcoming Earth-Bell Tuber seeds.
The second ridge, the third ridge, the fourth ridge.
When the sun moved from the eastern sky to overhead, four parallel ridges, each about 6 meters long, lay neatly spread across the newly cultivated land.
The furrows were consistently deep and the ridge backs were almost the same height.
Although they were far from the neatness of mechanized farming, they were a qualitative leap from the roughly turned flat ground of yesterday.
I leaned on my iron hoe, standing at the head of the field, gazing at the fruits of my labor, my lips curving upward unconsciously.
[ Ridge Creation Completion Assessment: Good.
Host has preliminarily mastered the ridge farming technique, recorded in the system.
]
“This is only the beginning.” I wiped my face, but couldn’t hide the smile in my eyes.
After a simple lunch (grilled fish with Earth Yam Slices again, and Citrome for dessert), I rested for a moment before heading to the bamboo grove.
Although the Bow-Making Plan was delayed due to setbacks in processing vines, I could still search for a suitable bow staff material in advance.
Sapphire Tough Bamboo had sufficient toughness, but as a bow staff, it required higher standards for age, node density, and curvature.
I needed to find an old bamboo stalk over 3 years old, with dense nodes, straight and undamaged, and close to the root (where the density was higher).
After wandering at the edge of the grove for a long time, I finally locked onto a bamboo stalk growing in the shade, its stem a deep sapphire jade color with a fine white waxy layer on the surface.
I made a test cut at the base with my Mountain-Cleaving Yue, exerting three times as much effort as yesterday to fell it.
By the time I dragged the heavy bamboo staff back to the platform, it was already the beginning of the Shen hour (around 3 PM).
I sat directly on the rock, gasping for breath in exhaustion.
My Dragon Tail hung limply by my side, its mane covered in bamboo leaves and dirt.
Yet looking at this bamboo staff of excellent quality, my heart was still full of satisfaction.
I rested the bamboo on the edge of the platform and began using the Stone Knife to shave off the branches, leaves, and protrusions at the nodes.
Then, I lightly tapped the entire length of the bamboo stalk with the back of the Mountain-Cleaving Yue.
This was a method my father had taught me; it released the internal stress of the bamboo material to prevent it from cracking during later processing.
The tapping sound was dull and even, indicating it was a good piece of bamboo.
Halfway through the processing, I subconsciously glanced up at the dwarf pine above the cave entrance.
The Glaze-Feather Sparrow was still there.
It had woken up from its nap at some unknown time and was now tilting its head, its golden eyes staring unblinkingly at me, or rather, at the bamboo staff in my hand.
A soft, gurgling sound, like the trickling of a spring, came from its throat.
“…Do you also think this one is good?” I asked casually.
Of course, the Glaze-Feather Sparrow did not answer.
It simply hopped to a thinner branch and continued to watch.
I smiled and lowered my head to continue processing the bamboo.
At sunset, I finally finished the rough processing of the bamboo stalk.
After removing the branches, leaves, and the thicker part of the root, I obtained a piece of bamboo about one and a half meters long, with evenly spaced nodes and a smooth surface.
According to my vague memory, making a bow required shaving the bamboo into a flat piece that was wide in the middle and narrow at both ends, then using fire to bend it into a bow shape.
This was a much more complex project than I had imagined, and I definitely wouldn’t be able to finish it today.
I placed the bamboo on the top shelf of the bamboo rack where it could air out.
I changed the water in the bamboo tube where the Ironwire Vine was soaking, then used my remaining mental energy to barely guide the Water Essence.
Next, dragging my utterly exhausted body, I made the simplest possible dinner.
No roasted fish.
I really didn’t have the energy to go retrieve the fish trap today.
I boiled a few Earth Yams.
Yes, boiled.
I took the largest clay pot from the row of unfired ones (it was actually a crooked, deep-bellied jar), filled it with water, balanced it on stones over the fire, and tossed in the washed and sliced Earth Yams.
The crude campfire licked at the bottom of the pot.
Steam slowly rose from the water’s surface as the Earth Yam chunks tumbled within.
This was the first time since I arrived in this world that I wasn’t eating something roasted.
The clay pot heated unevenly, and hairline cracks had already appeared in some places, but it didn’t leak.
Once the water boiled, the fresh fragrance of the Earth Yams spread, a much gentler aroma than when roasted.
I carefully used the long chopsticks I’d carved from a twig to fish out a piece, blow on it to cool it, and place it in my mouth.
Soft, sweet, and carrying a faint, chestnut-like aroma.
There was no salt, no seasoning of any kind, but that pure, root-vegetable sweetness won out over all the delicacies in the world at this moment.
I cradled the clay pot, sat on the platform at the cave entrance, and ate bite by bite.
The sunset on the horizon faded from orange-red to deep purple, and the outlines of the distant mountains were etched into a silent silhouette.
The Glaze-Feather Sparrow had flown away at some point, leaving the stunted pine empty, with only the wind rustling through its branches.
I suddenly remembered the past.
In the university cafeteria, every autumn and winter, there were always steaming roasted sweet potatoes and steamed potatoes at the counter.
My roommates always scrambled to buy them, eating while grimacing from the heat, saying, “It tastes better when it’s hot.” We sat together in a circle, chatting about games, assignments, and an uncertain future.
Now, those people and things were separated by the distance of a whole world.
I looked down, staring at the milky-white broth and soft, mushy Earth Yam chunks in the clay pot.
The water’s surface reflected the sunset, as well as my own face: ice-blue eyes, creamy-white long hair, and a pair of pale-gold Dragon Horns on my head.
Strange, yet gradually familiar.
“I wonder what they are doing now,” I murmured softly.
There was no reply.
The mountain wind brushed past, carrying away the steam from the pot.
I finished the last piece of Earth Yam and drank all the broth.
As expected, a fine crack had formed at the bottom of the pot, but it was still usable.
I carefully placed it back on the lower shelf of the bamboo rack with the other unfired clay vessels.
Night fell.
As usual, I extinguished the campfire, packed up my tools, and returned to the cave.
But tonight, I didn’t lie down immediately.
I lit the small clay lamp and wrote on the last page of my notebook:
“Bow-Making Plan”
1.
Bamboo: Sapphire Tough Bamboo, three-year-old, grown in shade, dense nodes and compact grain.
Rough processing complete; pending slicing and heat-bending.
2.
Bowstring: Ironwire Vine, steeping + Water Essence Guidance, requires approximately 3-5 days to soften.
Backup plan: System Shop “Basic Fiber Rope” (8 Points/roll).
3.
Arrows: Search for straight, thin branches; can sharpen them or attempt flint arrowheads.
Backup materials: Thin Ironwire Vine shoots, Sapphire Tough Bamboo scraps.
4.
Goal: A soft bow within one stone’s throw, range 30-50 meters, suitable for small game and defense.
5.
Completion Deadline: Within 7 days.
Having finished writing, I set down the pen.
The flickering firelight cast the shadow of the bamboo rack onto the rock wall, stretching it long and thin.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I must definitely re-till the furrows, then go collect plant ash; the soil needs a potassium supplement before sowing the Earth-Bell Tubers.
And those fifty seeds of Jade-Needle Rice, I must check their germination daily; if the soil dries, I need to water them immediately.
The fish trap needs to be moved again, as the harvest seems to have decreased from keeping it in the same spot these past two days.
Also the pottery, the small dishes I pinched yesterday should be nearly dry; I can try firing them…
So many things to do.
I blew out the small lamp and lay down in the hollow of the straw mat.
Dragon Tail automatically curled by my side, its cream-colored mane covering my calves.
Exhaustion washed over me like a tide, and my consciousness began to blur.
Half-awake, half-asleep, I seemed to hear a very faint “gurgle” sound from the cave entrance, like spring water dripping into a stone pool.
It seemed as if that fellow had settled in at the cave entrance.
But I was too tired, so I didn’t open my eyes…