The young man continued working without pause.
The sun had already risen higher, casting warm light over the field. His hands moved steadily through the soil, breaking it apart, removing stones, and smoothing the surface with careful precision.
To him, this was not simple labor.
It was refinement.
Every motion was a circulation of intent. Every movement had meaning. He believed that if his understanding deepened, even the earth would respond more smoothly.
And strangely—
it did.
The soil became easier to handle.
At first, he thought it was just his improving technique. But as time passed, the change became more noticeable. The ground no longer resisted his movements as much. It felt softer, more cooperative, almost as if it was aligning itself with his rhythm.
"…This is earth resonance," he thought seriously. "The deeper my cultivation understanding, the more the world responds."
He did not realize how absurd that conclusion was.
Behind him, the old man crouched down and picked up a handful of soil. He rubbed it between his fingers slowly, observing its texture.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…This shouldn't have changed this quickly," he muttered.
The young man heard him and turned slightly.
"Senior, is there an issue with my method?"
The old man paused.
Then shook his head.
"No. Keep going."
The young man nodded immediately.
"As expected. This is still only the beginning stage."
He returned to his work with even greater focus.
What he did not notice was that the soil he touched seemed slightly darker than before. Not in color alone, but in quality—like something inside it had become more stable.
The old man stood up slowly, dusting his hands.
His gaze lingered on the young man for a long moment.
"…Interesting," he murmured again.
But he said nothing more.