Ling Hua woke up shortly before sunrise. What awakened him this time was neither the sound of his mother calling him from outside the room, nor the clamor of family members he was accustomed to hearing every morning from the house and surrounding corridors, but rather that strange silence enveloping the cave from all directions. He opened his eyes and remained lying on his bed for a few moments, staring at the stone ceiling before remembering that the place he woke up in was no longer his old room in his parents' house, but his new dwelling beside the first spiritual field he had obtained.
He sat on the edge of the bed, then turned toward the food box his mother had left for him before his departure yesterday. He approached and opened it; as soon as the lid lifted, the aroma of meat and rice spread throughout the cave, reaching his nose directly.
Ling Hua smiled as he looked at the food.
"Heh, she still cares for me as always."
He didn't need to ask who had prepared the food; he knew his mother well. Perhaps that was her way of letting him know she hadn't forgotten that he was now living alone, even if she couldn't stop him from leaving for the field.
He swallowed his saliva while staring at the meal, then sat down and grabbed the chopsticks without giving himself another moment to think. He was truly hungry, and after spending the previous day moving back and forth between the spring and the field, he had no intention of feigning patience in front of a meal his mother had prepared.
Breakfast did not take long.
After finishing his meal, he washed his hands, rearranged the remaining food inside the box, then picked up the spiritual spade and walked out of the cave.
The morning was still quiet, and the sun had not yet emerged from behind the mountain peaks, but the sky was gradually shedding the darkness of the night. Ling Hua took a deep breath, then headed toward the field he had left yesterday before returning to his dwelling.
The ground was still slightly wet with morning dew, and the weeds starting to grow between the plowed rows of soil appeared clearer under the faint light. As for the old rice roots remaining in some spots, they were waiting for a greater effort from him to be uprooted from the earth.
Ling Hua stood at the edge of the field, rotated the spade in his hand, and held it firmly.
"Alright, let's finish this today."
He channeled a strand of Qi into the spade.
The spiritual runes inscribed on its surface responded instantly, emitting a soft glow. Ling Hua then drove its blade into the soil with both hands.
Clang!
The spade sank effortlessly into the earth, flipping a layer of soil upward. However, the old rice roots did not give up so easily. Some remained clinging to the ground, forcing him to strike the same spot a second, then a third time before finally severing the root and pulling it out.
He looked at the root that had come out of the earth.
"These are more troublesome than I expected."
He tossed it aside and continued working.
Plowing with the spiritual spade was not grueling in the sense he had initially anticipated; the Qi he channeled into the tool reduced the soil's resistance and made turning it easier. However, that did not mean his body wouldn't tire. Every movement consumed a portion of his strength, and as time wore on, he clearly began to feel the Qi energy in his dantian gradually depleting.
At first, he tried to ignore it.
He wanted to finish the field as quickly as possible, especially knowing that the rice seeds he had left in the spiritual water would soon be ready for planting, and he did not want to find himself still preparing the ground at the last minute.
However, after a while, he was forced to stop.
Setting the spade aside, he sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes, and began to meditate.
His breathing gradually stabilized, and strands of Qi moved through his veins along the familiar pathway while his dantian began recovering the lost energy.
The meditation wasn't long, but it was enough to restore a portion of his strength.
He opened his eyes, grabbed the spade once more, and returned to work.
This time, he didn't attempt to drain his energy rapidly as he had done initially. Instead, he distributed his Qi more moderately, fueling the spade just enough for each strike, then easing the flow when the extra force wasn't needed.
After several attempts, he realized this approach was far more efficient than he had thought.
He didn't have to put everything he had into the tool.
He only needed to give it what it required.
As hours passed, the field gradually transformed beneath his hands. The newly grown weeds disappeared, the old rice roots were uprooted from the soil, and the earth became looser and more uniform. The area that had looked yesterday like a mere piece of newly prepared land was bit by bit turning into a field where he could begin his first real cultivation.
By the time the sun slanted toward the west, Ling Hua was thoroughly exhausted.
He stood in the center of the field, leaned the spade against his shoulder, and looked around.
There wasn't much left that needed preparation.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and smiled despite the weariness overwhelming his body.
"Tomorrow..."
He paused for a moment, then corrected himself.
"Rather, after the seeds sprout."
He knew the real work had not even begun yet.
He returned to the cave, and after eating a simple meal, sat on his meditation cushion to recover what remained of his energy, then went to sleep earlier than usual.
The following morning, he woke up to the first light of dawn.
The first thing that crossed his mind was the seeds.
He rose quickly and headed toward the stone vessel he had placed in the cave. As he drew near, a clear smile appeared on his face.
It was time.
The Green Jade Rice seeds had transformed almost completely. The small grains had swollen, their green hue becoming far more vibrant, while delicate, milk-white roots sprouted from each one, topped by a short green stalk bearing the beginnings of tiny leaves.
Ling Hua reached out carefully, then hesitated just before touching one.
"Finally... it's time to plant."
He carried the vessel attentively and walked out of the cave toward the field.
He knew that what he was about to do now would determine the success of his first harvest, so he dared not treat the matter lightly. The Elder's words from yesterday remained etched in his mind: the distance between each seedling had to be a handspan, the seeds had to be planted into the soil using the method explained to him, and any initial negligence could affect the crop's growth later on.
He bent down and got to work.
He dug the first small hole, placed one of the seedlings inside, and carefully covered its roots with soil before moving to the next spot.
He raised his hand to measure the distance with his span every single time, repeating the process again and again.
At first, the pace seemed agonizingly slow, but Ling Hua didn't care. He wasn't willing to risk his first harvest due to impatience, so he double-checked every distance before planting the next seedling.
At one point, he noticed that the space between two seedlings was slightly less than it should be.
He stopped.
He stared at it.
Then he measured the distance once more.
He remained silent for a few moments before gently uprooting the seedling and replanting it in the correct spot.
"He said a handspan, so a handspan it shall be."
He pressed on.
A long time passed before he planted the very last seedling. When he finished, he stood in the middle of the field and gazed at his handiwork.
The ground was no longer the bare brown color it had been over the past few days.
Before him stretched neat, small rows of green seedlings distributed evenly across the field. Their tiny leaves fluttered with the mountain breeze, making the entire space look as though it was regaining life.
Ling Hua stood before them in silence for a few moments.
This was the first crop he had planted with his own hands.
He didn't know how much yield he would reap at harvest, nor whether the plants would grow as they should, but he felt a sensation he had never experienced before.
He had placed something into the earth, and now it was his responsibility to nurture it until it grew.
He looked up toward the sky.
"Alright, one final step remains."
He sat cross-legged, raised his hands, and began forming the spell seals he had memorized days ago.
Qi flowed from his dantian through his veins, then exited his body in thin threads that gathered above the field. He wasn't casting the spell the same way he had in his room; over the past two days, he had learned that consuming Qi recklessly would leave him incapable of continuing his work. Thus, he made sure to regulate the energy flow, refusing to let it burst out all at once.
Bit by bit, the energy threads gathered in the sky until a small cloud with a faint blue glow formed above the field.
Ling Hua watched it continuously until the first drops of Spiritual Rain began to fall.
The glowing droplets trickled down onto the tiny rice leaves. Upon contact, the leaves trembled slightly, appearing to rapidly absorb the energy contained within the water. It didn't take long before the stalks grew noticeably more vibrant, the small leaves opening slowly while the remaining raindrops seeped into the soil surrounding the roots.
Ling Hua's eyes widened.
"They're responding to the Spiritual Rain this fast..."
He hadn't expected to witness the transformation directly before his eyes.
However, he lacked the energy to linger in amazement.
His body began to feel intensely heavy, and his dantian was nearly empty after two days of continuous labor, compounded by the Qi consumed to cast the spell.
The rain ceased.
Ling Hua raised his hand, wiped the sweat from his face, and took one last look at the field.
Everything before him was green.
Green and full of life.
A satisfied smile touched his lips, even though his legs could barely support him any longer.
"Phew... finished at last."
He tried to take a deep breath, then added as he dragged his feet back toward the cave:
"Now I need to sleep, and I don't want any more delays... I can't even stand anymore."
Hardly had he reached his bed when he collapsed onto it with his entire body.
He didn't even feel his head hitting the pillow.
In the very next instant, Ling Hua sank into a deep sleep, while behind him, the field remained serene beneath the sunlight, the small Green Jade Rice seedlings swaying gently with the mountain breeze.