The world was sharp.
That was Lin Fan's first thought upon waking. He hadn't been woken by the distant, oppressive gong. He had simply... woken up. He felt rested. For the first time in ten years, the ever-present ache in his lower back was a dull memory, and the film of exhaustion that always clouding his vision was gone.
It was the cabbage.
He sat up on his thin straw pallet, the air in his small servant's room cold and damp. But he felt warm, a gentle, clean energy thrumming beneath his skin.
It's still dark. Maybe an hour before the first gong.
He didn't waste a moment. He rose from the pallet in a single, smooth motion, a quickness that surprised even himself. He dressed in the pre-dawn gloom, his movements precise and silent.
He slipped out of the servant's block and into his hidden courtyard. The air was crisp. He picked up the Bronze Spirit-Water Can. It was cold to the touch, but he felt a faint resonance with it, like a tuning fork waiting to be struck.
A new icon was lit.
[Daily Condensation (1/1)] is available.
He willed it. The familiar, faint grinding sound echoed from within the can, and when he peered inside, a single, glowing drop of [First-Light Dew] pulsed in the darkness.
He stared at it, his mind working. I could use it. But on what? The patch of soil was empty. I have nothing to grow.
The dew was a resource, but the seeds were the priority. He had to solve the seed problem first. Hoard the dew. Get the seeds. This was the only path.
He left the dew in the can—it seemed stable, and the panel didn't give a time limit—and went back to his room. Under his pallet was a loose stone. He pulled it up, revealing a small, hidden hollow. In it was the remaining half of his [Vigorous Cabbage], wrapped in a clean, damp cloth.
He tucked the bundle securely under his arm, his heart thumping.
He had a new plan. His normal, slow, miserable shuffle to the mess hall wouldn't work today. He needed to go to the "Mundane Market."
It was a small, sanctioned market held on a wide, flat clearing near the sect's main gate. It was open for exactly one hour after the first gong, a chaotic place where Handyman Disciples, Outer Disciples, and the occasional farmer from the village down the mountain could barter for mundane goods.
He had to go. And he had to do it before Steward Pang finished his breakfast.
The gong sounded, its vibration rolling over the mountain.
Lin Fan moved. He didn't shuffle. He walked with a new, quiet purpose, his steps light. He bypassed the mess hall, hugging the shadows of the outer wall, his gray robes blending perfectly with the morning mist. He kept his head down, just another servant on his way to his morning duties.
No one looked at him twice.
The market was already bustling. It was a cacophony of smells: chicken coops, steamed buns, medicinal herbs, and unwashed bodies. Servants haggled over chipped bowls. Outer Disciples, looking proud and poor, tried to trade low-level monster pelts for salt.
Lin Fan ignored all of it. He moved through the small crowd, his eyes scanning. He was looking for one stall.
There. In the corner, hunched over a collection of burlap sacks, was Old Man Fei.
Old Man Fei was, like Lin Fan, a "mundane." He had been at the sect for forty years, and his rumored job was "Head of Cabbage." He was the sect's primary supplier of mundane vegetables for the massive servant and outer disciple kitchens. And, on the side, he sold seeds.
Lin Fan approached the stall. The air here smelled of earth and dried herbs. Sacks of seeds—beans, radishes, spinach—were lined up, each with a crudely painted wooden sign.
Old Man Fei looked up, his face a web of wrinkles, his eyes cloudy with age.
"Well?" he rasped, his voice like dry leaves. "Buyin' or starin'? Don't have all day."
Lin Fan's throat was dry. This was it. The first step.
"Old Man Fei," Lin Fan said, his voice quiet, but clear. "I am not buying. I am... trading."
This got the old man's attention. He squinted at Lin Fan, looking him up and down.
"Tradin'? A handyman? What've you got? A half-stolen bun? A 'lucky' pebble?"
Lin Fan didn't speak. He carefully placed his bundle on the rough-hewn table. He unfolded the cloth.
The effect was instantaneous.
In the gray, misty morning light, the [Vigorous Cabbage]glowed. The vibrant, jade-green color was so intense it looked unreal. A sweet, crisp, living fragrance cut through the market's sour smells.
The old man, who had been leaning back on his stool, shot forward, his eyes suddenly sharp and clear.
"By the mountain..." he breathed. He leaned in, his nose twitching as he sniffed the cut edge of the cabbage. He didn't touch it. He knew better.
"Where did you get this?" Old Man Fei whispered, his eyes darting left and right, suddenly afraid of being overheard.
"I... grew it," Lin Fan said, which was the simple truth.
"Grew it?" Fei looked at Lin Fan's chapped, duster-worn hands. "In what? A pot of 'First-Light Dew'? Lad, I've been growing cabbage on this mountain for forty years. I've seen the Alchemy Pavilion's 'Spirit-Soil' test plots. This... this is..."
He poked the cabbage leaf, just once, with a gnarled finger. A drop of crystal-clear juice welled up.
"It's a perfect mundane," Fei said, his voice full of awe. "No spirit-qi... but all the vitality. The kitchen masters... they'd trample each other for a taste of this. It would make their congee taste like heaven."
He looked up, his 'trader' mask snapping back into place, but his eyes were still bright. "What do you want for it?"
"Seeds," Lin Fan said, his voice firm.
"Seeds? Lad, this is worth copper. Good copper."
"I don't want copper," Lin Fan said. He pointed to the sacks."I want seeds. I want all the cabbage seeds you have. And the radishes. And that spinach."
Old Man Fei stared at him for a long, silent moment. A slow smile spread across his wrinkled face, showing a few yellow teeth.
"A farmer," he chuckled. "In the middle of this madness, a true farmer. I like it."
He didn't haggle. The old man's hands became a blur.He grabbed a large, empty burlap sack. He took his scoop and dug deep into his cabbage seed barrel. WHOOSH. He did it again. WHOOSH. He moved to the radish seeds. WHOOSH. The spinach. WHOOSH.
He kept going, taking a scoop from nearly every bag of vegetables he had.
He tied the heavy sack with a piece of twine and shoved it across the table at Lin Fan. It was bulging, heavy, and it smelled of promise.
"This," Old Man Fei said, "is a ridiculous, foolish, wonderful trade. Now get out of here before someone with money sees that... that jewel... and decides you don't deserve it."
Lin Fan grabbed the half-cabbage, wrapped it, and tucked it away.He hefted the new, heavy bag of seeds. It was more than he could have dreamed.
"Thank you, elder," he said, bowing low.
"Pah. Thank you, lad," Fei rasped, already turning back to his stall, looking for all the world like a man who hadn't just seen a miracle. "And a word of advice... be careful where you plant these. Good things... they attract hungry eyes."
Lin Fan nodded, his mind already racing. He shouldered the heavy sack and disappeared back into the crowd, his steps even lighter than before.
He made it back to his hidden courtyard just as the second gong—the one that signaled the true start of work—began to ring.
He had ten minutes.
He dropped the sack on the small patch of earth. He was a dragon, and this was his new hoard. He looked at the tiny, tiny square of soil. He looked at the massive bag of seeds.
Old Man Fei's words echoed in his head. Be careful where you plant these.
He had his seeds. He had his [Bronze Spirit-Water Can]. He had a single drop of [First-Light Dew].
He had a new problem. His courtyard was too small.