Three whole days had passed since the crossing. He had exerted immense effort to finally smooth out the chaotic spiritual energy within his body.
Only then did he have the opportunity to go outside, reach the mountain top, and take a breath of fresh air to calm his emotions.
Next, the only thing he needed to focus on was healing his injuries and cultivating with all his might.
Other matters were beyond Fang Yun's current control.
Gathering his scattered thoughts, Fang Yun began to head down the mountain.
Since he was already out, he might as well take a look at the spiritual rice that had been ravaged by the green beetles.
He just didn't know if the agricultural knowledge he had in his mind could help deal with these pests in this world.
If he could handle them, he would try his best to rescue those spiritual rice.
After all, they were extremely rare cultivation resources for him.
With this in mind, Fang Yun slowly walked down from the mountaintop.
He arrived at a cave halfway down the mountain.
Inside the cave was the only spiritual spring of the Fang family, which was also where Fang Yun had previously cultivated.
In front of the cave was a waterway, with a small stream flowing out of the cave, winding down the mountain along the rocky crevices.
Following the direction of the water, after a short walk, he came to the only plot of spiritual farmland owned by the Fang family.
While it was called a spiritual farmland, it was somewhat of a stretch; however, with the nourishment of the spring water, it could at least grow some low-grade spiritual rice.
The spring water flowing out of the cave gurgled into the spiritual farmland, and then continued to flow down the waterway from the other end of the farmland toward the mountain.
Ultimately, it reached the foot of the mountain, merging into a magnificent river on the island.
And then the river surged southward, stretching all the way to the estuary.
This great river was the Spirit Water River on Spirit Water Island, though it was hard to say how much actual spiritual water was contained in it.
Even so, this river still nourished tens of thousands of acres of farmland along its banks, sustaining hundreds of thousands of ordinary people under the Fang family's care.
Fang Yun stepped into the spiritual farmland, with cool spring water flowing beneath his feet.
Looking at the remnants of the spiritual rice, he shook his head helplessly.
The rice heads had been completely devoured, and even the stalks had turned entirely yellow and withered. Clearly, there was no chance of saving them now.
It seemed the only solution was to uproot all the spiritual rice and plant new ones.
Fortunately, the original Fang Yun hadn't used up all the spiritual rice seeds.
Otherwise, Fang Yun would truly be at a loss.
As for going out to buy new seeds, that was something Fang Yun dared not even consider.
After all, the last generation of cultivators had just perished outside—let alone someone as injured and weakened as himself.
Still, the thought of planting new spiritual rice made Fang Yun worry about another infestation of green beetles.
However, that concern only lingered briefly in his mind before he pushed it aside.
Worrying was pointless since, for now, there was no effective defense against such a pest.
The only solution was to keep a close eye on the rice during the grain-filling stage.
At worst, he could live in the fields and watch over them.
Maybe that would help prevent some losses.
If the original Fang Yun had realized this earlier, he wouldn't have ended up with an empty harvest like now!
Thinking this, Fang Yun walked closer to one of the spiritual rice stalks and carefully pinched a green beetle about the size of a soybean off the stem.
He observed it closely in his hand, noticing that it didn't have any remarkable features and certainly wasn't one of the legendary spirit insects.
It didn't even have any attack abilities.
Its only advantage seemed to be its overwhelming numbers, which was likely why the original Fang Yun had been helpless against them.
Discovering that these green beetles posed no real threat, Fang Yun simply crushed it between his fingers.
From this, he found some good news. At least, when facing the green beetles again, he wouldn't be entirely powerless.
Next, he captured a few more green beetles from the rice stalks and found that they were all the same—just ordinary pests.
With that realization, his worries were finally put to rest.
Unfortunately, he didn't know how to make insecticides. Otherwise, dealing with these pests would have been much easier.
He stopped thinking about it, uprooted the remaining spiritual rice, and neatly placed the stalks to one side.
He then carefully tended to the spiritual field.
The next day, after his usual healing routine, Fang Yun took the spiritual rice seeds and an iron hoe and slowly made his way out of the cave toward the field.
It wasn't that he didn't want to recover from his injuries faster, but there wasn't a better method to heal his damaged meridians.
The only thing he could do was circulate his spiritual energy through his damaged meridians every day, allowing it to slowly nourish them and help with recovery.
However, this method was inefficient and couldn't be sustained for long.
At most, he could do it for half an hour each day before his meridians reached their limit.
Pushing further would only worsen his condition.
But this also gave him time to take care of other matters.
Before long, Fang Yun arrived at the spiritual field.
He lifted the iron hoe and struck the soil of the field with great force.
Then, using all his strength, he pried open a small pit in the black soil.
Though the black soil was constantly soaked in spring water, it was still very difficult to dig because it contained spiritual energy, making it several times heavier than ordinary soil.
The spiritual energy also caused the soil particles to bond more tightly than usual, meaning that unless one used enough strength, it was nearly impossible to dig through.
After spending most of the day, Fang Yun finally dug over a hundred small pits.
He carefully placed the spiritual rice seeds into each pit and, after much effort, filled them in again.
By the time he finished, the sky had already darkened completely.
Exhausted, Fang Yun shouldered his hoe and slowly walked back toward the cave.
Upon reaching the bank, he turned to look at the spiritual field one last time.
From the original Fang Yun's memories, he knew that planting spiritual rice was indeed a simple and straightforward task.
There was no process for pre-sowing preparation or fertilization—none of those tedious steps. Fang Yun wasn't sure if this was how farming was done in this world or if the Fang family simply had no farming tradition to pass down.
Although Fang Yun had hundreds of fertilizer-making methods in his mind, the world he was in now was entirely different. If he wanted to create fertilizer, he'd first have to consider whether it would be compatible with the spiritual rice. If he experimented carelessly and ended up killing the crops, that would be a disaster.
For now, it was best to stick to the local planting methods, and later, when the time was right, he could slowly test out the methods from his previous life.