After everything was settled in my mind, I immediately went to the place where I had buried the spirit gathering plate and removed it from the ground. After cleaning it, I placed it into the spirit bag.
Lingering in the fields any longer was unnecessary—and dangerous. If someone were to find it, it could cause unnecessary misunderstandings and trouble.
And then I took out the prepared rice bags from my spirit pouch. One by one, I filled them carefully with Jade Spirit Rice. The grains were plump, faintly glossy, and carried a gentle spiritual warmth even through the cloth bags.
Once filled, I sealed them and stored them—along with the jade rice stalks—inside the spirit bag. The space inside accepted them smoothly, leaving no resistance.
Next came the Vermillion Blood Spirit Rice.
I deliberately slowed down.
This was not something to handle carelessly.
I divided the vermillion grains into five bags, each holding exactly twenty-five pounds. When I attempted to store them in the system inventory, the interface responded immediately.
Vermillion Blood Spirit Rice (Bag) ×5
Accepted.
My gaze flickered slightly.
So the system treated them as separate stackable units.
That was… useful.
There were still about five pounds remaining. I placed those into a smaller bag and stored it inside my spirit pouch instead. Unlike the system inventory, the spirit pouch did not categorize items by strict stack rules—it merely depended on internal space.
Finally, I stored the vermillion rice stalks as well in the System Inventory.
The system inventory accepted them entirely, but when the final stalk disappeared, I felt it.
A subtle resistance. Like notifying me.
I summoned the inventory interface.
Only one slot remained empty out of the 5 slots.
I frowned.
"So that's the limit for now…"
This was a problem.
If I continued at this pace harvesting and storing, inventory space would be quickly used.
There had to be a way to expand it.
But that wasn't something I could solve now.
I pushed the thought aside for now and turned my attention back to the field.
The harvested land looked… barren.
Too barren.
Leaving it like this would attract attention from others when they come to check their fields.
Without wasting time, I retrieved the last Jade Spirit Rice seeds he has in storage and planted them across the front one mu of land, working quickly but methodically. Once the seeds were settled, I activated a Rapid Growth Card.
Spiritual energy surged instantly.
The soil trembled faintly as sprouts burst forth, growing at a visible pace. Leaves unfurled, stalks thickened, and within moments, the empty field was once again covered in vibrant green.
More importantly, the growth extended visually blocking the back of the field, masking the that section completely.
From a distance, it would look no different than before.
Perfect.
Only then did I finally turn away from the fields and head home.
As I walked, my steps slowed unconsciously.
My thoughts drifted.
Qi cultivation… body cultivation… both are covered now.
With Vermillion Blood Spirit Rice and system new rewards, my body cultivation would advance rapidly by practicing the Primordial Star Refining Celestial Body Art, I would gain strength far beyond my realm.
Fighting across realms would no longer be a fantasy.
Foundation Establishment cultivators?
I might not defeat them outright—but survival would no longer be impossible.
But soul cultivation…
That was different.
Resources for soul cultivation were rare, tightly controlled, and often monopolized by top sects. Either I need a Tier 3 Spiritual Farmer legacy to find the resources or seeds in the forest, or I had to exchange resources directly with powerful sects.
And both options carried risk.
Too much risk.
If I approach a top sect… they'll investigate.
If I reveal my soul cultivation knowledge… I will die for sure that too not a quick one.....
I clicked my tongue softly.
"Tch… troublesome."
There was no immediate solution.
Fine. One step at a time.
Body cultivation first.
Soul cultivation… later.
By the time I reached home, the house was strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
No voices. No footsteps.
I paused, then heard faint sounds coming from the backyard—soil shifting, soft chatter, light laughter.
I followed the sound.
What I saw made my steps stop.
Grandfather was in the garden, sleeves rolled up, calmly tending to a patch of flowers. Mo Fan stood nearby, carefully holding a watering pot, while Mo Ling squatted beside the soil, hands dirty, face bright with concentration as she tried to plant a small seedling properly.
The scene was… peaceful.
When Mo Ling noticed me, her eyes lit up instantly.
"Big Brother Shen!" she shouted.
She jumped up cheerfully and ran toward me, tugging at my clothes eagerly. "Look! Look! I planted flowers!"
I smiled and patted her head lightly. "I see. You did well."
She beamed and pulled me toward the garden, chattering excitedly about how deep the hole should be, how Grandfather corrected her, and how Mo Fan kept watering the same spot too much spoiling her hard work.
I followed her, listening quietly.
Mo Fan noticed me next and straightened slightly. "Brother Shen."
Grandfather glanced up, nodded once. "You're back."
"Yes," I replied. "Finished early."
He studied me briefly, then waved his hand. "Sit and rest."
I shook my head. "I'll prepare breakfast."
He didn't argue.
I headed inside and quickly prepared a rice soup, but this time, I added a tablespoon of special grains—finely measured Vermillion Blood Spirit Rice. I cooked it slowly, carefully controlling the heat, ensuring the vitality was diluted and gentle.
On the side, I prepared braised meat chops and cooked some jade spirit rice, rich but not overpowering.
By the time I brought the food out, they were already seated.
I placed the rice and meat down first.
"You guys eat first," I said. Then turned to Grandfather gave him a bowl of soup. "This soup was made from special rice grains that are good for nourishing blood and vitality. Good for the body. Drink only what you can handle—don't overdo it."
He raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Alright."
He took the soup bowl and drank it in one sip.
Almost immediately, a faint flush spread across his face—but it faded just as quickly, leaving him looking healthier than before.
After a short while, he frowned slightly. "These grains… where did you get them?"
"Shopkeeper Wu gave me these grains," I replied smoothly. "As a gift. Don't worry."
He stared at the bowl again, then nodded slowly.
The children had been watching us with intense curiosity.
Grandfather chuckled. "Let them drink a little too. Small amounts will benefit their bodies."
Mo Fan and Mo Ling both turned toward me instantly, eyes shining.
I sighed. "Only a small cup. If nothing happens in one incense's time, you can have another. Understand?"
"Yes!" they shouted in unison.
I poured the soup into two small liquor cups.
Mo Fan didn't hesitate. He drank it in one go.
Mo Ling hesitated only a second before copying him.
We waited.
One incense stick burned slowly.
Nothing happened.
"Do you want another cup?" I asked.
"Yes!" Mo Fan replied immediately. "It feels warm… like my body isn't tired anymore."
Mo Ling nodded vigorously. "Mo Ling wants too!"
I poured another round.
By the third cup, Mo Fan's face turned noticeably red.
"Sit," I said firmly. "Meditate. Or sleep."
He chose meditation without hesitation and sat down cross-legged.
Mo Ling, however, was completely fine—cheerfully nibbling meat, tilting her head as she looked at her brother.
"Grandpa," she asked cutely, "why is brother red? He looks funny."
Grandfather chuckled softly.
When she reached her fourth cup, I asked carefully, "Any discomfort?"
She shook her head. "No."
I looked at Grandfather.
He nodded.
I told her to drink.
Then again she drank and continued waiting until,
She drank the fifth cup.
Moments later, she yawned.
"Sleepy…"
She slumped gently.
I quickly brought a mat, laid it beside Mo Fan, and placed her down carefully.
I watched them both closely.
Mo Fan meditated steadily, steam faintly rising from his skin.
Mo Ling slept peacefully, breath even.
No danger.
I exhaled quietly.
Mo Ling slept peacefully, her breathing even and light, as if the world held no worries for her at all.
Her small chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, cheeks faintly flushed from the residual warmth of the Vermillion soup. There was no sign of discomfort—no restless movement, no frown, not even the slight twitch that usually accompanied digestion of spirit-infused food in mortals.
I watched her for a long moment.
Then I slowly straightened.
Grandfather's gaze followed mine. His eyes, weathered by decades of wind and soil, lingered on the sleeping child with quiet contemplation.
"…Looks like she has more talent than her brother," he said at last, his voice low, audible only to me.
His voice was low, careful not to disturb her.
I glanced at Mo Fan.
He was sitting cross-legged on the mat nearby, face still flushed red, brows tightly furrowed in concentration. His breathing was uneven but controlled, following the crude meditation posture I had taught him. Sweat had formed on his forehead, yet his expression was stubbornly resolute.
He was enduring.
But enduring was not the same as being suited.
"I think so too," I replied softly. "But he has the heart to forge through hardships "
Grandfather also nodded approvingly.
Mo Ling had taken more than Mo Fan, yet her body had accepted it naturally, without resistance. The Vermillion Blood Rice did not surge violently through her meridians—it blended, nourished, and settled.
That kind of compatibility could not be faked.
Grandfather's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion, but in thought.
"Her body is soft," he murmured. "But it absorbs warmth deeply. Like fertile soil."
I smiled faintly.
A fitting comparison, coming from him.
After a brief silence, Grandfather looked at me.
"So," he asked, "are you going to start body cultivation today?"
The question was simple.
But the weight behind it was not.
I inhaled slowly, then nodded.
"Yes, Grandfather."
His expression did not change, but his voice grew firmer.
"Good. But remember this—do not rush."
I turned fully toward him.
"Cultivating immortality," he continued, "especially at the beginning, is like laying the foundation of a tower."
He lifted his hand slightly, fingers forming a rough square in the air.
"If the foundation is shallow, the tower will lean. If it is rushed, cracks will form. No matter how fast you build above it, it will collapse sooner or later."
His eyes met mine.
"The stronger the foundation," he said quietly, "the more stable and taller the tower you can build in the future."
I bowed my head slightly.
"I understand."
And I truly did.
My path was already different from most cultivators. An enormous dantian, a soul weapon formed too early, a body constitution that demanded patience rather than speed.
If I chased breakthroughs recklessly, I would only sabotage myself.
Grandfather nodded, seemingly satisfied.
"Good," he said. "Then go eat properly. I'll watch them."
I hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not made of paper yet. Go. Eat your fill. When you come back, we'll switch."
I smiled.
"Alright."
As I stood and moved toward the dinning table, I glanced back once more.
Mo Fan sat stubbornly in meditation, teeth clenched but posture steady.
Mo Ling slept soundlessly beside him, unaware that her future might already be shifting.
And between them, Grandfather sat quietly—like an old tree, weathered but unwavering—guarding the fragile beginning of the two little kids.
I thought about their future but fate was uncertain
Whether one day they would stand tall enough to shake the heavens, or simply exist beneath them as ordinary nameless beings, only time would decide.