The spirit rice glowed like captured moonlight beneath the autumn sun.
Jin stood at the edge of his hectare, taking in the sight of his first completed crop. Six months of labor had transformed the neglected disaster he'd inherited into something beautiful—row upon row of mature stalks, their grains heavy with refined spiritual energy, swaying gently in the cool morning breeze. The silver luminescence that had been subtle in the young plants now blazed with quiet intensity, each stalk a tiny beacon of accumulated qi.
He felt different today. Stronger. More solid somehow, as if the breakthrough he'd achieved the previous week had added weight to his very existence.
[Azure Harmonization Method - Current Efficiency: 78%]
The tracker pulsed steadily in his awareness, a constant companion he'd grown so accustomed to that he barely noticed it anymore. Seventy-eight percent efficiency—a number that would have seemed miraculous six months ago. But more significant than the number was what it represented.
He had broken through.
Level two of Qi Gathering. The barrier that blocked so many disciples for months or years had yielded to his careful, persistent cultivation. Jin could feel the difference in every movement, every breath. His meridians had widened, allowing greater energy flow. His dantian had expanded, storing more refined qi than ever before. Even his physical body had changed subtly—his movements more coordinated, his senses sharper, his natural clumsiness diminished though not entirely eliminated.
"Today is the day," Old Shen said, appearing at Jin's side with the silent approach that Jin still couldn't detect despite his improved cultivation. The old man's weathered face held unusual solemnity. "First harvest. The moment that determines whether six months of work were worthwhile or wasted."
Jin nodded, his stomach tight with nervous anticipation. He'd prepared as thoroughly as possible—sharpening his harvesting blade, reviewing the techniques Old Shen had taught him, waking two hours before dawn to ensure every tool was in perfect condition. But preparation could only do so much. The harvest itself would reveal truths that no amount of planning could predict.
Across the agricultural terrace, other disciples were gathering at their fields. Jin recognized Lin Mei's small form already bent over her first row, her hands moving with practiced efficiency. Da Feng stood like a monument at the center of his hectare, surveying his crop with the critical eye of a master craftsman. Even Zhou Tianyu was present, his handsome features arranged in determined concentration as he prepared for the evaluation that would measure his progress.
"Overseer Huang will observe each field personally," Old Shen continued. "She'll assess quantity, quality, and spiritual density. The ratings determine your resource allocation for the next season—spirit stones, technique scrolls, equipment access. A poor harvest can set you back months. A good harvest can accelerate your cultivation significantly."
"What about an excellent harvest?" Jin asked.
Old Shen's lips twitched. "Excellent harvests attract attention. Whether that's good or bad depends on the attention." His eyes met Jin's with knowing weight. "Given your… unusual progress, I'd recommend aiming for solidly good rather than exceptional. Sometimes the wisest course is to excel quietly."
Jin understood the warning. His breakthrough to level two had already drawn curious glances from senior disciples who recognized that such speed was uncommon for someone with his spiritual root quality. Drawing more attention through an impossibly good harvest might raise questions he couldn't answer.
The morning bell rang across the terrace, its deep tone signaling the official start of harvest season.
Jin picked up his harvesting blade—a curved implement of spirit-touched steel, designed specifically for cutting spirit rice without damaging the energy contained within the grains—and walked into his field.
—————
The work was easier than he'd expected.
Six months ago, Jin would have struggled with every motion. His qi control would have been clumsy, his technique awkward, his stamina insufficient for the marathon of harvesting an entire hectare. Now, with level two cultivation flowing through his meridians, the blade felt like an extension of his will.
He moved through the rows with steady rhythm, each stroke precise and clean. The spirit rice fell in neat bundles, their stalks severed at exactly the right height to preserve the maximum spiritual energy in the grains. His qi flowed through the blade handle without conscious effort, the connection as natural as breathing.
Cut, gather, bundle. Cut, gather, bundle.
The morning passed in focused labor. Jin's awareness narrowed to the immediate task—the next stalk, the next row, the next section. He didn't think about the evaluation or the watching eyes of senior disciples or the nervous anticipation of his fellow harvesters. He simply worked.
By midday, he had completed nearly half his hectare.
"Rest break," came Overseer Huang's voice, carrying across the terrace with the weight of authority. "Water and food will be distributed. Resume in one hour."
Jin straightened, suddenly aware of the ache in his back and the sweat soaking through his robes. The autumn sun had grown warm, and his enhanced cultivation hadn't eliminated the basic physical demands of manual labor.
He made his way to the distribution point, where sect workers were handing out rice balls and cups of cold water. The food was simple but welcome, and Jin found a shaded spot beneath a gnarled spirit tree to eat.
"You're moving fast."
Jin looked up to find Lin Mei settling beside him, her own rice ball clutched in dirt-stained hands. The girl had grown over the past six months—not just in skill but in confidence. Her gossip-loving nature remained, but beneath it lay genuine competence that had earned her respect among the agricultural disciples.
"The breakthrough helps," Jin admitted. "Everything feels more efficient now."
"I noticed." Lin Mei's expression held something complicated—pride mixed with a hint of envy. "Took me two years to reach level two. You did it in six months."
Jin said nothing. He'd learned that acknowledging his unusual progress rarely led anywhere productive.
"Old Shen thinks you're special," Lin Mei continued. "He's never taken such interest in a new disciple before. Even Da Feng commented on it, and Da Feng barely acknowledges anyone exists."
"I just work hard."
"You work smart. There's a difference." Lin Mei bit into her rice ball, chewing thoughtfully. "Whatever your secret is, keep it close. The sect rewards excellence, but it also dissects it. You don't want to become an object of study."
Her warning echoed Old Shen's words from months ago. Jin was beginning to understand that his rapid progress, while beneficial, was also dangerous. He needed to excel enough to advance but not so much that he attracted the wrong kind of attention.
The efficiency tracker pulsed:
[Azure Harmonization Method - Current Efficiency: 78%]
A number only he could see. A secret he would guard carefully.
—————
The afternoon harvest continued without incident until near sunset, when Jin heard footsteps approaching his field.
He looked up from his work to find a figure he hadn't seen in months standing at the edge of his hectare.
Wen Changpu.
The bully looked much the same as Jin remembered—tall, broad-shouldered, with that cruel handsomeness that made his threats somehow more menacing. His purple-black robes were finer than any agricultural disciple's, marked with silver thread that indicated his connection to the combat division. He stood with the casual arrogance of someone accustomed to power, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on Jin with calculating assessment.
"Wei Jin," Wen Changpu said. His voice was neutral, lacking the mocking edge Jin remembered from their first encounter. "I've been hearing interesting things about you."
Jin straightened slowly, his harvesting blade still in hand. He was acutely aware of the weight of his cultivation, the qi flowing steadily through his meridians. Level two. The same level as the bully before him, according to what Fan had mentioned in passing weeks ago.
"Wen Changpu," Jin replied, keeping his voice even. "I didn't expect to see you in the agricultural section."
"I go where I please." But the automatic arrogance in the words was tempered by something new—a watchfulness that hadn't been present before. "I heard you broke through to level two. That's fast. Unusually fast for someone with your spiritual roots."
Jin said nothing. He'd learned that silence often served better than words in confrontations.
Wen Changpu stepped closer, his eyes scanning Jin's field with professional assessment. The spirit rice glowed around them, nearly harvested now, its quality evident even to untrained eyes.
"Your crop looks good," Wen Changpu admitted, and the admission seemed to cost him something. "Better than good, actually. The energy density is remarkable for a first-season harvest."
"I work hard."
"So I've heard." Wen Changpu's expression shifted through several emotions—frustration, calculation, and finally something that might have been grudging respect. "My cousin in the combat division mentioned your name. Said you were worth watching. I didn't believe her at the time."
Jin remained still, his grip on the harvesting blade relaxed but ready. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, and uncertainty made him cautious.
"Level two Qi Gathering in six months," Wen Changpu continued. "Highest beetle catch rates in your section. Experimental cultivation techniques that actually improve yields. And now a harvest that will probably rank among the best on this terrace." He paused, his jaw tightening. "You're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"A target." The word came out flat, honest. "A weak disciple I could pressure for entertainment. Someone who would cower and submit like the others."
Jin thought about their first encounter—how he'd stood up for Fan, how he'd been shoved into the dirt, how he'd spent the following months wondering when Wen Changpu would return to finish what he'd started.
"I'm not interested in being a target," Jin said carefully.
"No. I can see that now." Wen Changpu's calculating gaze swept over Jin one more time. "You're interesting, Wei Jin. Annoying, but interesting. I'm going to keep watching you."
He turned and walked away without another word, his footsteps fading into the evening shadows.
Jin let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
The bully hadn't attacked. Hadn't threatened. Hadn't done anything except… acknowledge Jin's progress. The shift in dynamic was subtle but significant. Wen Changpu had come expecting to find the same weak, clumsy disciple he'd shoved around months ago. Instead, he'd found someone who had grown—in cultivation, in confidence, in presence.
Someone who might become formidable.
Jin returned to his harvesting with renewed focus. He understood, perhaps for the first time, that his advancement wasn't just about personal growth. It was about changing how others perceived him, how they treated him, what they expected from him.
Power attracted respect. Respect created safety.
It was a lesson he would remember.
—————
Overseer Huang arrived at Jin's field as the last light of sunset painted the sky in shades of amber and rose.
She walked between the rows of harvested grain with measured steps, her steel-gray eyes missing nothing. Jin stood at the field's edge, hands clasped behind his back, trying to project calm confidence despite his thundering heart.
"Your cutting technique has improved significantly," she said finally, examining a bundle of grain with critical attention. "Clean strokes, proper angle, consistent height. The spiritual energy in these grains is well-preserved."
"Thank you, Overseer Huang."
"I wasn't finished." Her voice carried its usual edge of impatience. "Your yield quantity is seventeen percent above average for first-season harvests. Quality assessment indicates grade three spirit rice with occasional grade two grains—acceptable for your experience level. Spiritual density measures at 4.7 standard units, which is…" She paused, consulting a jade slip in her hand. "…notably higher than expected."
Jin waited, uncertain whether this was praise or criticism.
"You've done well, disciple Wei Jin." The words seemed to cost her something, as if compliments were a limited resource she hoarded jealously. "Your performance over the past six months has been consistently above expectations. Your cultivation breakthrough demonstrates genuine talent, and your field management shows adaptive thinking."
She reached into her sleeve and produced two scrolls, their cases made of dark wood bound with red cord. Each scroll was perhaps a foot long, their surfaces inscribed with characters Jin couldn't read.
"These are technique scrolls appropriate for agricultural disciples who have demonstrated sufficient progress." Overseer Huang held them out. "The first is the Small Rain Technique—a basic water manipulation skill that will assist with irrigation management. The second is Earth Drill—an earth manipulation technique for soil preparation and pest control."
Jin accepted the scrolls with trembling hands. Technique scrolls were valuable resources, rarely distributed to outer disciples without significant achievement. To receive two at once was almost unprecedented for someone of his rank.
"Learn them well," Overseer Huang said. "These techniques are meant to improve your agricultural efficiency, not for combat or personal advancement. The sect will expect corresponding improvement in your future harvests."
"I understand, Overseer Huang. Thank you."
She nodded once, then turned and walked away toward the next field awaiting evaluation.
Jin stood alone in the gathering darkness, the scrolls warm in his hands, the harvested grain glowing softly around him.
Two techniques. Two new tools to add to his cultivation.
He thought about his brother, somewhere beyond the valley, working to support their family while Jin pursued this strange new path. He thought about his parents, who had sacrificed everything for this opportunity.
They deserved to know that their sacrifice was paying off.
—————
The letter-writing station was a small building near the sect's main gate, staffed by a bored-looking disciple who managed incoming and outgoing correspondence for a small fee. Jin had saved enough copper coins from selling depleted spirit stones and beetle shells to afford both the writing materials and the delivery service.
He sat at a worn wooden desk, brush in hand, staring at the blank paper before him.
Where to begin?
Dear Brother and Family,
I hope this letter finds you well. Six months have passed since I entered the Dark Rose Sect, and I wanted you to know that I am healthy and making progress.
Jin paused, considering his next words. He couldn't reveal everything—the efficiency tracker, his unusual advancement speed, the attention he'd attracted from both allies and potential enemies. But he could share enough to reassure them that their sacrifice wasn't wasted.
I have been assigned to the agricultural division, where I tend spirit rice. The work is hard but satisfying. I have made friends among my fellow disciples—an old farmer named Shen who reminds me of grandfather, a girl named Lin Mei who knows everything about everyone, and several others who have helped me adjust to sect life.
Last week, I achieved a breakthrough in my cultivation, advancing to the second level of Qi Gathering. Overseer Huang says this is good progress for someone in their first year. Today was my first harvest, and my crop was evaluated as above average quality. As a reward, I received two technique scrolls that will help me improve my work further.
He glanced at the small pouch of spirit stones he'd set aside—five low-grade stones, carefully saved from his accumulated earnings. It wasn't much, but it was more than his family had likely seen in years.
I am enclosing five spirit stones with this letter. I know they cannot be cultivated by non-practitioners, but they can be sold to traveling merchants for a good price. Please use the money for whatever the family needs most. I will send more when I am able.
Brother, I think about your sacrifice every day. I will not waste the opportunity you gave me. I promise I will work hard and make you proud.
Your devoted brother,Wei Jin
He set down the brush and read the letter through twice, checking for errors. It felt inadequate—too brief, too formal, unable to capture the depth of his experiences or the intensity of his gratitude. But it was the best he could do with words alone.
Jin sealed the letter, attached the pouch of spirit stones securely, and handed both to the correspondence disciple along with the required fee.
"Destination?" the disciple asked in a bored tone.
Jin gave his village name and his brother's name. The disciple made a note on a jade slip and tossed the letter into a basket with dozens of others.
"Three to four weeks for delivery, depending on road conditions. No guarantee of response time." The disciple had already turned his attention elsewhere, dismissing Jin from consideration.
Jin walked out into the evening air, feeling lighter than he had in months. The letter was sent. His family would know that he was alive, progressing, thinking of them.
It wasn't much. But it was something.
—————
The second season of spirit rice cultivation began the following morning.
Jin stood at the edge of his harvested field, now cleared of the previous crop's remnants and ready for replanting. The soil looked different to his cultivator's senses—depleted from six months of feeding the spirit plants, hungry for the nutrients and energy that would sustain the next cycle.
In his hands, he held the two technique scrolls Overseer Huang had given him.
He'd spent the previous evening studying their contents, using the same jade-slip attunement method he'd learned for the Azure Harmonization cultivation technique. The knowledge now resided in his mind, waiting to be applied.
The Small Rain Technique was exactly what its name suggested—a basic water manipulation skill that allowed cultivators to draw moisture from the air and direct it toward their crops. It required precise qi control and sustained concentration, but the result was gentle, even irrigation that no manual watering could match.
Jin raised one hand toward his field, palm facing upward, and began the technique's initial circulation pattern.
Qi flowed through his meridians in the prescribed path—up from his dantian, through his chest, down his arm, and out through his palm in carefully controlled pulses. The air around his hand shimmered slightly, moisture condensing from nothing, gathering into a small cloud that hovered above his fingers.
He directed the cloud over his field, willing it to release its contents.
Fine droplets began to fall—not quite rain, but something close. A gentle mist that settled over the soil, dampening it evenly without the flooding or puddling that manual irrigation often caused. The depleted earth seemed to drink the moisture eagerly, its color darkening as the water seeped in.
[Azure Harmonization Method - Current Efficiency: 78%]
The tracker didn't measure his technique skills, only his base cultivation efficiency. But Jin could feel the technique working, could sense the water responding to his will. It was crude compared to what experienced cultivators could achieve—the inner sect disciple who had repaired the road months ago could probably summon actual rainstorms with a gesture—but it was a beginning.
He let the technique fade, the small cloud dissipating as his concentration released.
The Earth Drill technique was more complex. It allowed cultivators to manipulate soil structure—loosening compacted earth, creating channels for water and root growth, even driving out burrowing pests. The qi circulation pattern was more demanding, requiring energy to flow simultaneously through both arms while maintaining a specific visualization in the mind.
Jin knelt at the edge of his field and pressed both hands against the soil. He began the circulation, feeling his qi divide and flow in parallel paths.
The earth responded sluggishly at first, resistant to his inexperienced manipulation. But as he refined his control, he felt the soil beginning to shift beneath his palms. Particles separated, compaction eased, channels formed in the subsurface layers.
A beetle emerged from the disturbed earth—one of the spirit beetles that had plagued him for months. It clicked its mandibles in confusion, driven from its burrow by the technique's effects.
Jin caught it with practiced speed and dropped it into the collection container at his side. Even with new techniques, old habits remained useful.
"Showing off already?"
Lin Mei stood at the boundary wall, watching with amusement. "Most disciples take weeks to successfully apply new technique scrolls. You're using both within a day of receiving them."
"They're not perfect," Jin said honestly. "The rain technique produces too little water, and the earth drill only works on the top few inches of soil. I have a lot of practice ahead."
"Still faster than normal." Lin Mei hopped over the wall and approached, examining the section of soil Jin had worked. "This is good loosening. Better than what I achieved after a month of practice."
Jin didn't know how to respond to the compliment, so he simply nodded and returned to his work.
The second season was beginning. New seeds to plant, new growth to nurture, new harvests to achieve. Six months of progress behind him, an uncertain future ahead.
But he was stronger now. More capable. More confident in his ability to face whatever challenges the sect presented.
He pressed his hands to the earth again and felt it yield to his will.
One season down. Many more to go.
—————
End of Chapter Six