The winter morning was wrapped in a soft, pale light the kind that slips through frosted windows as if afraid to disturb the stillness. Outside, the courtyard tiles gleamed under a thin glaze of frost, each step anyone took producing a faint, satisfying crunch. The bare branches of the persimmon trees reached into the air like black calligraphy strokes against the sky, while a faint breath of wind whistled past the roof tiles, carrying with it a hint of snow yet to fall.
Inside Jia Lan's room, the air was still, save for the occasional soft pop from the brazier in the corner. She was curled in the middle of her thick, quilted blanket cotton-filled, the fabric smelling faintly of last autumn's sun. She lingered there for a long moment, toes wiggling deeper into the pocket of warmth, eyes half-closed.
Eventually, she let out a reluctant sigh. "If I stay here any longer, I might fuse with the bed."
She pushed the blanket aside and slid her feet into fur-lined slippers. The cold nipped at her cheeks as she padded to the washstand, where the porcelain basin was already filled with steaming water. A curl of mist rose, blurring her reflection in the small beautiful mirror. She cupped the warm water in her hands, splashing it onto her face the shock made her gasp softly, but it was pleasant, bringing her properly awake. Her skin flushed a rosy pink from the heat.
"Hmph… definitely not a bath day," she muttered. "Not unless I want to freeze halfway."
She braided her hair quickly, pulling on a thick cotton jacket embroidered with pale peach blossoms, and stepped into the corridor. The wooden floors under her feet gave a faint, familiar creak. She passed a window, pausing for a heartbeat to watch a servant sweep frost off the flagstones below. Even her breath in the air looked like little clouds as she walked.
When she entered the dining hall, the atmosphere was calm and homey. Only Mother Jia and Father Jia were there. Mother Jia, dressed in a deep blue padded jacket, was ladling steaming chicken-and-millet congee into bowls, the rich aroma filling the room. Father Jia sat by the window with a cup of tea, steam curling lazily upward toward his face.
"Morning, Lan Lan," Father Jia said warmly. "You're up late for once."
Jia Lan grinned, sitting down. "Too warm in bed to get up early. Where's everyone?"
Mother Jia passed her a bowl. "Your brothers and their wives are still sleeping, Baby Naun too. And your grandfather and grandmother went to visit one of your grandfather's old comrades. They left before dawn probably enjoying bragging rights about their healthy grandchildren by now."
"So just us, then," Jia Lan said cheerfully, rubbing her hands together.
The table was a winter morning feast thick chicken-and-millet congee glistening under a sheen of fragrant oil, a plate of golden, flaky scallion pancakes stacked high, their edges crisp; freshly steamed pork-and-napa buns, plump and warm; and little dishes of pickled radish, spicy cabbage, and sweet-sour mustard greens.
Jia Lan tore a piece of pancake, biting into the crispy shell and soft, steaming inside. "Mm… Mother, you made these?"
"Of course," Mother Jia said, eyes smiling. "Pancakes in winter keep the cold away."
Father Jia sipped his tea, eyes twinkling. "So, what are your plans for the day?"
"My plan," Jia Lan said solemnly, "is to stay bundled up, read, nap… and maybe eat more pancakes. Winter is for hibernating."
Father Jia chuckled. "Like a fat bear."
Mother Jia hid her smile behind her teacup. "If she keeps eating like that, she will turn into one."
"It's called strategic energy conservation," Jia Lan said, making them both laugh.
They lingered over breakfast, trading bits of idle gossip and stories of neighbors until the teapot was nearly empty.
After breakfast, Jia Lan returned to her room, closing the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed and mentally called out to the system for her daily check-in.
A clear, pleasant chime rang in her mind.
Ding!Ding! System Check-in!
Congratulations, Host!
You have unlocked a Special Feature: Planting Space.
Before she could react, a calm, neutral voice spoke directly into her thoughts.
"Planting Space Details:
This is a private, bound realm accessible only to the Host.
Size: 20 fertile planting plots.
Growth Acceleration: Crops grow 15 times faster than in the outside world. (One month outside = two days inside.)
Environmental Control: Automatic watering, optimal sunlight, and temperature for any crop. No pests. No disease.
Storage Warehouse: All harvested goods remain perpetually fresh. Other items may also be stored without decay.
Mental Command: Host may operate planting, watering, and harvesting through thought alone.
Expansion: Space can grow larger as the Host levels up. Additional features may unlock in the future."
Jia Lan's heartbeat quickened. "…It's… exactly like the novels."
"Would the Host like to enter now?"
"Yes," she breathed.
The next moment, her vision blurred and when it cleared, she was standing barefoot on warm, rich soil.
The air here was different. It smelled of life itself sun-warmed earth, green shoots after rain, and the faint sweetness of flowers blooming somewhere unseen. Above, the sky was a clear, soft blue, with a gentle golden sun that felt warm but not hot on her skin.
The 20 planting plots were laid out in two neat rows, the soil dark and perfectly tilled, each plot waiting like an eager student for its first lesson. There was no frost here, no sign of winter only the timeless season of growth.
To one side stood a small, whitewashed warehouse with a polished wooden door. Jia Lan walked to it, her footsteps making no sound on the grass. Inside, the space was far larger than the building looked from outside rows of empty shelves stretching back into the shadows. She could almost hear the quiet promise: Everything here will last forever.
Back outside, she crouched by a plot, scooping up a handful of soil. It crumbled perfectly between her fingers, warm and silky.
She thought, Water this plot.
A soft shimmer in the air—and a fine, even rain fell from nowhere, soaking the soil in seconds before vanishing. She laughed out loud. "This is amazing!"
She spent a long while exploring walking the gentle slope of the surrounding hills, noting the soft grass underfoot, and discovering that the sun here never moved from its gentle mid-morning position. The air was neither too dry nor too humid; it was the most comfortable place she'd ever been.
Finally, she stood in the middle of the plots, hands on her hips, grinning. "All I need now are seeds. Tomorrow… the market."
"This is… this is mine," she murmured to herself, her heart swelling with a sense of wonder she couldn't put into words.
With one last satisfied look, she willed herself out of the space and opened her eyes to her real room—still warm, still winter, but with her heart racing from the thrill of her new secret.
Her head was practically buzzing when she finally stepped back out of the space.
The dimmer light of her real-world room made her blink, as though she'd just returned from a dream. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart still racing from the excitement.
She needed to plan.
Grabbing a notebook and pen, Jia Lan sat cross-legged on her bed and began scribbling. She thought about practicality first: rice seeds were a must nothing beat the taste of fresh rice, and it was a daily necessity. Then vegetables: spinach, carrots, beans, and maybe cucumbers for the summer. She added fruit trees to the list peach, pear, and maybe apple. Something sweet for the future. She even considered medicinal herbs; after all, her grandmother always believed in keeping some handy.
The list grew longer and longer until she had to stop and chuckle at herself. "At this rate, I'll turn that place into my own private farm and orchard," she muttered fondly.
Looking at her neat handwriting and the ambitious plan, a warm sense of satisfaction washed over her. She was still grinning like a fool when she tossed the notebook aside.
"I've earned a reward," she told herself, stretching luxuriously before flopping back onto her bed.
The space, the possibilities, the future harvest it all made her giddy, but right now, there was one thing she wanted even more: sleep.
She pulled her blanket up to her chin, a smile still tugging at her lips. "Tomorrow, I'll start making it real," she whispered, already drifting into a sweet, contented slumber.