Black Snake noticed that some green stone slabs had been pushed up and saw tender weed shoots poking through the cracks.
Not just beneath the old pine, but on the Stone Terrace outside the cave and all around the pool, green and yellow shoots were everywhere, forcing the edges of the slabs upward. Some weeds had already shot up several inches. He had never expected such tiny shoots to have so much strength.
That was the Spirit Realm for you. He had not even planted his seeds yet, and the weeds had already gone wild.
What a headache.
He used his own weight to press the lifted green stone slabs flat, one after another. The shoots snapped beneath them, squeezing out juice with a strong, raw grassy smell.
His primordial spirit left his body and conjured a longsword. His hazy figure skimmed swiftly over the ground, sword light flashing with a series of swishes. Everywhere he passed, shoots were severed at their roots and shredded leaves flew.
He stopped, sheathed his sword, and waited for the breeze to scatter the fine grass clippings.
In mere moments, everything was cleared away, leaving only a few green stains in the seams between the stone slabs.
Much better.
He extended his senses into the Mortal Realm. The clouds were high, the wind was dry, and the continuous rainy season had yet to arrive.
His primordial spirit walked beneath the old pine and picked up the little bag.
After carefully considering the layout of the Medicine Field, he chose a promising patch, dug shallow holes by hand, and placed the seeds inside one by one. Then he covered them with soil and pressed it down.
The freckled little boy knelt on one knee, earnestly digging holes and burying seeds, happily absorbed in his work.