Vegetables Sprout

Chapter 25: Vegetables Sprout

After the thrilling retreat of the Demonic Beasts and the joy of the first successful kiln firing gradually settled, Chen An's life seemed to return to a track that was outwardly calm yet inwardly charged with tension.

Every day, he continued maintaining the Safe Zone, exploring the surrounding buffer areas, and refining his ever-growing survival skill set.

But one place always tugged at his heartstrings, carrying his simplest and most urgent hope—the plot of land he had personally tilled and sown with seeds.

The time of sowing felt like just yesterday. He had carefully buried seeds from another world, seeds carrying ordinary hopes, into this fertile Primordial soil.

Back then, his heart was full of uncertainty. He didn't know if these delicate lives could adapt to the soil here, withstand the hidden dangers, or how long it would take for them to bring the first hint of green that symbolized harvest.

Days passed in the alternation of sunrise and sunset, the roars of Demonic Beasts, and the tranquility of the Safe Zone. Spring went, autumn came—or rather, in this land without clear seasons, where only the drive of life governed, time flowed in its own way.

Chen An visited the plot several times each day. At first, it was just mechanical checks; later, it was with growing anticipation.

Finally, on a particularly bright and sunny morning, as he carried his stone bowl to fetch water from the well as usual, his footsteps halted at the edge of the plot.

A Change had occurred.

The soil, which had seemed dormant with only a few sparse weeds stubbornly poking through, was now staging a silent and grand ceremony of life's revival.

In several areas where he had carefully sown seeds, tiny, almost imperceptible cracks appeared on the soil's surface. Then, faint traces of tender green, pulsing with the rhythm of life, timidly poked their heads out from these cracks.

Sprouts! The seeds had sprouted!

Chen An's heart leaped. He almost held his breath as he slowly crouched down, leaning in for a closer look. It wasn't a thin, fragile green, but a plump vitality brimming with an indescribable strength.

Two cotyledons tightly wrapped the tip of each sprout, like a pair of small, folded wings, or like two chubby little hands striving upward, stubbornly pushing through the soil above and reaching toward the light.

He suppressed his excitement and didn't touch them immediately. He knew these newborn lives were extremely fragile. He stood up and swept his gaze across the entire plot.

To his delight, it wasn't just one or two spots. Everywhere he had sown seeds for bok choy, lettuce, and salad greens, similar tender green buds had emerged sporadically!

They were like stars in the night sky—sparse, yet incredibly brilliant—announcing the official beginning of a new era of life on this land.

Over the next few days, Chen An poured almost all his energy into observing this small, awakening oasis.

He discovered that the growth rate of these sprouts was astonishingly fast!

In just a day or two, the tightly wrapped cotyledons slowly opened, revealing the curled, true first leaves beneath.

The shapes of the leaves were already faintly visible—the spreading form of bok choy, the slender shape of lettuce.

Then, the second and third true leaves sprouted, grew, and unfurled at an alarming speed. The tender stems also visibly shot up and thickened, as if an invisible force was constantly pulling them upward.

What struck Chen An the most was the color these plants displayed.

It wasn't the mild, slightly dull green of an ordinary vegetable garden. Under the pure yet intensely primal sunlight of the Primordial World, these newborn leaves showed a nearly translucent, crystalline emerald green! Each leaf seemed condensed from the purest essence of life, with veins clearly visible like meticulously carved jade patterns, shimmering with the luster of life.

It was a crystalline green that seemed almost ready to flow, like the first melted snow of early spring soaking the entire leaf. As sunlight passed through, the green was no longer a static color but transformed into dancing specks of light, like the liquid vitality encased within the finest jade. It was so pure, so unreserved, every vein seemed to gurgle with the sap of life, forming a vivid contrast with the dusty, withered, and haggard greens of the outside world. Here, life wasn't a struggle; it was a natural, joyful bloom.

He began to understand that this wasn't just the result of good soil and ample water. This land, called "Primordial," though fraught with danger, contained an immensely vast and raw life energy—an unrefined "spiritual energy."

This energy, like an invisible milk, was greedily absorbed by these vegetable seeds, transformed into their extraordinary growth drive.

They weren't just growing; it was as if, in this dialogue with their environment, they had been infused with the wildness and vitality of this land.

Chen An was no longer just an observer. Every day, he used his worn-out clay bowl (he had learned to carefully draw water from the well using a vine-woven net to avoid breaking it) to fetch clear water from the well that provided stable, mild water, and gently irrigated these seedlings.

He no longer used the previous method of flooding the whole area. Instead, he learned like a farmer, carefully moistening the roots of each seedling along the furrows.

A silent communication had formed between him and these vegetable seedlings.

He watched them grow taller day by day, their leaves larger and thicker, the crystalline green growing richer, and his heart was filled with an indescribable joy and sense of accomplishment.

This joy was more lasting and grounded than successfully hunting a Demonic Beast or firing a piece of pottery. Because it was the continuation of life, the embodiment of hope.

He even began to imagine what it would taste like when these seedlings grew up and could be harvested for food. It wouldn't just be a supplement to his diet; it would be the sweetest reward for all his efforts and persistence.

It meant he had taken another big step toward truly standing firm in this world.

The vitality in the plot formed a stark contrast with the dangerous, deathly stillness of the Primordial World beyond the wall.

This small, carefully tended oasis was not just a vegetable garden; it was a spiritual fortress Chen An had built in this desolate land and a beacon of hope for the future.

Looking at the thriving vegetable seedlings nourished by the Primordial World's spiritual energy, Chen An knew that no matter how many hardships lay ahead, as long as he guarded this small patch of green, he would never lose his direction or strength.

(End of Chapter 25)