As the spirit grain entered its heading stage, the spirit farmers along the shores of Bihai Lake grew busy.
Where once you could scarcely see a soul in the fields, now every plot had someone stationed there watering, pest-killing, tending the soil, working tirelessly.
These fields were not built directly atop spirit veins. If they relied only on the scattered spiritual energy seeping from the veins, there would be no decent harvest.
The fields planted on the veins themselves belonged exclusively to the sect.
The role of the spirit farmers was to bridge the gap: channeling rain, guiding the earth's qi, and drawing on wood-element essence to nourish the crops, ensuring the spirit grain could grow strong.
Ji An understood they were, in essence, the "fertilizer machines" of the spirit grain.
Right now, he was at the very bottom of the sect's pyramid. But one day, he would see for himself whether the view from the top was truly so cold and lonely.
Busy days always passed quickly. Two months flashed by in an instant.
As the harvest approached, Ji An spent his days squatting by his plot, unwilling to leave for even a moment.
Tens of thousands of birds flocked around Bihai Lake. The moment one let down their guard, the birds would dart into the fields and peck at the grain.
Leave those little pests unattended for long, and who knew how much yield would be lost?
Some wealthier farmers had purchased puppets to guard their fields. Old Huang even had one. Ji An, lacking such resources, had no choice but to play scarecrow himself.
"Finally done."
Wiping sweat from his brow, Ji An slung the sack of harvested grain over his shoulder and carried it back to his bamboo lodge.
He tied the sack shut with a rope, pulled out a large borrowed scale from behind the door, hooked the rope to the beam, lifted the rod with his right hand, and slid the weight with his left.
"One hundred… one hundred and one… one hundred and twenty-one catties of spirit grain. Not bad!"
Ji An broke into a satisfied grin.
Under ideal conditions, skilled management and farming spells at the second tier, an acre of land could yield two hundred catties of spirit grain per season.
With his third-level Minor Rain Technique, Thick Earth Formula, and Withering-Bloom Art, half an acre under perfect conditions should yield around one hundred and thirty catties.
The sect's purchase price for first-grade spirit grain was one spirit crystal per catty, adjusted slightly by quality.
His harvest looked good. If he sold it all, he'd make over a hundred and twenty crystals, a hefty sum, perhaps twenty to thirty crystals more than most of the other spirit farmers who had entered the sect alongside him.
Still, such a windfall was limited to the first year. After that, he would owe land rent, taxes, and other costs.
For one acre of spirit fields, each season required about twenty crystals for seed, sixty catties of grain as rent, and the so-called "head tax."
Qi Refining first-layer disciples paid ten contribution points per year, second-layer twenty, and so on, deducted directly from one's jade token.
Fail to pay taxes in full for two consecutive seasons, and you'd be sent to labor in the mines for three months before being expelled from the sect.
Old Huang had said that trying to save on seed was pointless; the sect controlled spirit grain seed cultivation as a secret art. And three years ago, the land rent had suddenly risen from fifty catties to sixty, making life even harsher for farmers.
Ji An sighed. Even with the heavy taxes, this was still far better than the life of a rogue cultivator. His father had once said that, in the early stages of Qi Refining, he sometimes earned less than two spirit stones in an entire year.
Dragging out a chair, Ji An sat in the courtyard, wondering if he ought to get himself a rocking chair.
At dusk, under a great tree, a rocking chair, a pot of spirit tea… perhaps even a spirit beast lying at my side. Ah, just imagining it feels otherworldly.
Closing his eyes, he linked his mind to the stone tortoise.
[Master: Ji An]
[Dao Resonance: 0]
[Spiritual Qi: Kan Qi 23.4, Kun Qi 7.2, Xun Qi 0.1]
[Spells: Minor Rain Technique (Small Accomplishment 92%)
Thick Earth Formula (Small Accomplishment 97%)
Withering-Bloom Art (Small Accomplishment 52%)
Flamefire Incantation (Beginner 1%)
Sharp Gold Art (Proficient 12%)]
In just two months of hard practice, plus a little aid from the stone tortoise, his Minor Rain Technique and Thick Earth Formula were nearly on par with Old Huang's years of grinding.
The only downside: despite steady cultivation, aided by abundant pills, he had still not broken through to the third layer of Qi Refining.
If not for fear of raising his spell mastery too far beyond his current cultivation, both Minor Rain and Thick Earth would already be at Great Accomplishment.
"Brother An, how was the harvest?"
Ji An's thoughts were interrupted. He opened his eyes to see Old Huang grinning at him from outside the fence.
He quickly stood up with a smile.
"Senior Brother, please come in. Thanks to fortune, the harvest turned out quite well."
He then pointed to the sack on the ground.
"Go ahead and weigh it, I promise you'll be astonished!"
"Oh? Then I'll have a good look."
Old Huang grabbed the rope tying the sack and hefted it in his hand. His eyes glimmered with understanding.
"About a hundred and twenty catties… Little Brother An, you really are a born spirit farmer!
If I'd had your talent back in the day, I might already be a Foundation Establishment cultivator by now."
He sighed deeply after saying this.
"Senior Brother's sense is amazing!"
Ji An couldn't help but praise him, surprised that Old Huang could guess the weight without even using a scale.
"Ah, but I've worked it out carefully. Once you start paying the sect's taxes next year, this little harvest will barely keep food on the table."
An acre of spirit fields, after three months of toil, yielded only a hundred or so spirit crystals. He wouldn't even dare to consume pills freely.
And half of his refined spiritual power was still being devoured by that stone tortoise of his. Without relying on pills to speed things up, breaking through to mid-stage Qi Refining would be difficult.
Not to mention, he was already drowning in debt, and he had to repay at least part of it next year, or else his credibility would collapse.
Ji An leaned closer and asked quietly,
"Senior Brother, how much yield can a first-grade spirit field increase by under your cultivation?"
"I don't know."
Ji An frowned slightly. Was it a business secret he wasn't willing to share?!
Old Huang chuckled. "Little Brother An, fields that aren't built on spirit veins are all ungraded. They can only grow Yellow Sprout Rice.
At most, one acre of land will give you three hundred catties of Yellow Sprout Rice.
Even if you trained Minor Rain, Thick Earth, and Withering-Bloom all the way to Perfection, you still couldn't break that ceiling.
But a first-grade low-rank spirit field can grow Jadegrain Rice. And heh… that's the main ingredient for refining Jadegrain Pills for mid-stage Qi Refining.
No one would ever waste a first-grade field on Yellow Sprout Rice."
"Then you must be making a killing, Senior Brother!"
Old Huang's smile turned bitter.
"Little Brother An, surely you don't think the land rent is paid in Yellow Sprout Rice, do you? Whatever you plant, that's what you owe.
And Jadegrain seed costs alone take up nearly twenty percent of expenses. Even cultivating spells at Great Accomplishment don't boost Jadegrain yields nearly as much as they do with Yellow Sprout."
"Life is tough," Ji An sighed.
Old Huang nodded in heartfelt agreement. He opened the sack, scooped out a handful of spirit grain, husked it, and praised:
"Excellent quality, the price should fetch a bit higher."
"Not bad," Ji An smiled, though he had no intention of selling it. He planned to keep it for himself.
Yellow Sprout Pills couldn't be taken every day for fear of accumulating pill toxins, but spirit grain could be eaten daily, meal after meal.
As long as his cultivation rose, he would have more choices ahead.
While others had to grind away painfully to comprehend spells, he did not. That was his greatest advantage.
(Author Note: the setting has been adjusted; fields not built near a spirit vein are ungraded; a first-grade spirit vein corresponds to a first-grade spirit field.)