Shitou was still a little uncomfortable when he followed Su Ran into the field.
He stood on the edge of the field, watching Su Ran bend over and turn the soil, unsure where to put the hoe. Su Ran straightened up and glanced at him. "You don't need to rush to work. Squat down first and put your hands on the soil."
Shitou paused for a moment, then squatted down, extending his right hand and pressing his palm against the soil on the ridge. The soil was cool, damp with the morning dew, and fine grains of sand were caught between his fingers.
At first, he couldn't feel anything, only the coolness of the soil seeping into his palm. But he didn't stop, and continued pressing.
Su Ran squatted down beside him, her voice neither too loud nor too soft. "Your Martial Soul is an earth-type plant, so you're connected to the earth. Try to see if you can sense anything moving in the soil."
The Shitou closed its eyes and remained quiet for a while. At first, there was nothing, but the coolness slowly turned into a faint warmth, like Shitou that had been exposed to the sun slowly dissipating its heat.
Then he felt a very light pulse under his palm—not a heartbeat, not breathing, but something slower and deeper, like an invisible river flowing slowly underground.
The pulse traveled from his palm, up his arm, and down to the back of his neck, as if something recognized him.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. "... Teacher! There's something here!"
What is it?
Shitou said excitedly, "This thing is like water, but slower than water; it gives me a very strange feeling."
Su Ran nodded. "That means your Martial Soul is resonating with the earth. When you cultivate in the future, you can start by sensing the earth. Don't rush, take your time."
The Shitou lowered its head again and pressed its hand back into the soil, without letting go.
In the days that followed, Shi Shitou followed Su Ran to the fields every day. While Su Ran was tilling the land, he would squat on the edge of the field to practice his perception.
When Su Ran was mixing the straw ash, he followed beside her, learning to observe the color and moisture of the soil. Su Ran would occasionally ask him, "How moist is this soil?" or "How deep have you turned it?" When he couldn't answer, he would squat down and touch it, then look up and answer.
Sometimes Father Ye would stand by and watch, not saying much, occasionally saying something like "This soil is too hard" or "This piece is okay." Shitou would listen and dig a little deeper the next time he turned the soil.
Every afternoon, Ye Qingyu would bring a bowl of water to the edge of the field. Sometimes, when Shitou was squatting on the edge of the field, she would simply place the bowl next to him. Shitou would look up and say, "Thank you, sister," and she would pick it up and hand it to him, saying, "Take this and drink it; it'll cool down faster if you leave it on the ground."
Days passed by one by one, not quickly, but steadily.
Half a month is neither a long nor a short time.
The rice seedlings in that experimental field began to change. Their color changed from grayish-green to dark green, and their leaves became wider than those around them. When the ears of rice emerged, they were noticeably fuller than before.
Standing on the edge of the field, that patch looked as if it had been dyed separately, standing out starkly against the surrounding darkness.
The rice seedlings in the untouched fields next to it were still gray and shriveled, with small, withered ears of rice, as if they would never grow.
Father Ye stood by the field for a long time without saying a word, but the wrinkles on his face relaxed considerably.
He bent down, reached out and touched the tip of one of the rice stalks, weighed it in his hand, then put it down. He then looked up at Su Ran, saying nothing in that glance, but Su Ran understood.
Shitou squatted down beside him, pressing his hand to the muddy ground of the paddy field, and felt that familiar warm pulse again—
This time the sensation was clearer than the first time; it felt like something was unfolding underneath, climbing up his palm.
The changes in the fields brought about by Father Ye and Su Ran's improvements made the villagers restless.
The people who were previously discussing the rice at the edge of the field are no longer just watching from afar. Some have gone around to the edge of the field, squatted down, and examined the rice seedlings closely, looking at them over and over for a long time, but still couldn't find anything wrong with them—they were just growing better than the others.
Someone reached out and touched the rice stalk, and when they pulled their hand back, their fingertip was covered with a layer of rice powder. They smelled it, glanced at the gray fields next to them, and said nothing.
But no one dared to ask directly. Having said those things before, no one wanted to back out now.
At dinner time, there was a knock on the courtyard gate. Mother Ye went to open the door, and the village chief was standing outside, holding a pot of wine in his hand and rubbing his hands together.
" Old Ye's family, is Old Ye home?" The village chief peered into the yard.
When Father Ye came out of the house and saw the village chief, he invited him, "Village chief, you've arrived. Please come in and sit down."
After the village chief entered the house and sat down, he placed the wine on the table, chatted about the weather and harvest for a while, and then lowered his voice and leaned closer to say:
" Old Ye, do you think you could teach Little Su's method to the villagers? They said some bad things because of their ignorance before."
Now that we're seeing results, we're embarrassed to speak up, but we're all anxious. I brought wine today to apologize on their behalf. They're not bad people at heart; they're just too worried about the land.
After listening, Father Ye glanced at Su Ran, then turned to the village chief and said, "I'll go ask Little Su. But based on my observations over this period, Little Su seems to care about the land, so he should agree."
He then walked over and sat down next to Su Ran, asking, " Little Su, things are looking up on our land now. Other villagers want to follow suit, what do you think—"
Su Ran interrupted him before he could finish, saying, "Okay. I'll teach you all tomorrow afternoon on the ridge of the field."
Upon hearing this, the village chief slapped his thigh and exclaimed, "That's wonderful! I'll go and inform everyone right away. Be sure to wait on the ridges of the fields tomorrow afternoon!"
After saying that, he stood up and walked out, but turned back at the door to add, " Old Ye, please thank Little Su for me!"
The next afternoon, Su Ran stood on the edge of the field and explained the methods of crop rotation and soil maintenance to the villagers.
He spoke slowly, occasionally pausing to see if anyone had any questions.
The initial awkwardness gradually eased; some people began to nod, some squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil from the field, and turned it over, while others asked several specific questions.
When is the best time to turn the soil? How much straw ash should be mixed in? Should the straw be buried directly or piled up first before returning it to the field? Su Ran answered each question carefully.
The crowd dispersed in the evening.
Su Ran stood on the edge of the field without leaving, while Shitou squatted beside her, turning over a handful of soil, as if he were also pondering something. Su Ran squatted down and placed her hand on the soil on the edge of the field. Shitou followed suit.
After a few breaths, Su Ran felt a warmth coming from the bottom of his palm—not the usual pulsating sensation, but something more stable and deeper, like the earth slowly exhaling. He looked down at the soil beneath his hands, and his breath caught in his throat.
A sound came from the depths of the earth, not through his ears, but directly into his heart. It was very soft, like the sound of wind blowing through rice stalks, or like someone humming a wordless tune from afar on the edge of a field.
"You've done very well. You're heading in the right direction. Start with this land and bring the surrounding fields to life. This is your First Trial."
Su Ran squatted on the edge of the field, silent for a long time. When those words landed in his heart, there was no thunderous roar, no dazzling light, just like a seed being pressed into the soil—he knew it was already there, and all he had to do was wait for it to grow.
The Shitou squatted beside him, not hearing anything.
He only felt the pulse in the soil was stronger than before, as if something was moving underground, and then it quieted down again.
He looked up at Su Ran, Su Ran was still squatting there with her palms pressed against the soil. It took her a while to stand up.
"Let's go back," Su Ran said.
Shitou said "Oh," then stood up and patted the dirt off his hands.
The two walked back along the ridge of the field. Ye Qingyu was standing at the gate of the courtyard with two bowls of water in her hands. When she saw them coming, she didn't ask any questions, but simply handed them the bowls.
Su Ran took the bowl, took a sip, and glanced again at the field in the distance. In the twilight, the experimental field was a darker color than the surrounding area, like a patch on an old garment, slowly growing into the whole field.
When the wind blew, the rice stalks swayed.