The world outside was still cloaked in darkness when Jia Lan stirred awake. It was the depth of winter in 1978, and the cold crept in even through the thick quilt that cocooned her. A faint silver glow from the frosted windowpanes told her that dawn had yet to arrive. She pulled the covers tighter around her shoulders for a brief moment, but her mind was already alert. Today wasn't just any morning it was the day of the Chinese New Year.
The alarm clock on her bedside table ticked softly, the little hand pointing to six. The house was quiet, with her family still sleeping soundly in their warm rooms. Jia Lan sat up slowly, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and smiled faintly. Despite the biting cold, excitement flickered in her chest. The New Year brought fresh beginnings, and for her, it also meant tending to the miraculous planting space that had become her greatest secret.
She slipped her feet into thick cotton socks, the chill of the wooden floorboards biting against her soles. After washing her face with icy water and brushing her teeth, she felt refreshed, though her cheeks stung pink from the cold. She tied her hair loosely, then, without hesitation, sank her consciousness into the planting space.
The moment she entered, a completely different world embraced her. Gone was the harsh, frozen air of the real world. Here, the sky was an endless soft blue, dotted with drifting white clouds, and the air carried the faint warmth of spring. A gentle breeze rustled through leaves, bringing with it a mingled fragrance of ripened fruits, blossoming flowers, and damp, rich soil.
Jia Lan stood still for a long moment, simply drinking it all in. Four days had passed since she last properly harvested, and the difference was striking. What had once been seedlings and tender sprouts had now matured into lush rows of vegetables, sturdy grain stalks, and trees heavy with fruit.
The rice fields swayed gently in the breeze, each stalk a vibrant green with plump, golden grains forming along their tips. Their subtle fragrance carried on the air, earthy yet sweet, promising nourishment. Nearby, rows of leafy vegetables stretched out in tidy lines the lettuce crisp and pale green, cabbages round and tightly wrapped, spinach leaves dark and gleaming as though polished by morning dew.
The fruit trees were a spectacle all on their own. Branches bent under the weight of their bounty: apples so red they looked like polished jewels, pears glowing with golden light, oranges releasing a citrus tang that made her mouth water. Peach blossoms still clung to some branches, pale pink against the sky, while ripe peaches nestled beside them, their fuzzy skins blushing. The mingling of flowers and fruit gave the orchard a dreamlike quality.
Jia Lan inhaled deeply, the sweetness filling her lungs. Compared to the barren, gray winter outside, this space felt like paradise. She crouched by a row of strawberries, their bright red fruits peeking out from under vibrant leaves. They looked almost too perfect, glistening as though dusted with sugar.
Curiosity got the better of her. She plucked one and bit into it. The juice burst across her tongue sweet, fragrant, with just the faintest tartness that made her lips curl in delight. "So fresh…" she murmured, savoring the flavor. It was unlike any fruit she had eaten in her past life or present one. Even the finest imported goods couldn't compare to this purity.
She moved along, trying a peach next. Its skin was warm from the gentle sunlight in this space, and when she bit in, the flesh was tender and dripping with nectar. The taste was mellow, like honey melting in her mouth. Her eyes widened. "Better than anything from the outside world," she thought, licking the juice from her fingers.
For a moment, she felt almost giddy, laughing softly to herself as she leaned against the trunk of the tree. "I could live in here forever just eating fruit."
But she had work to do. Straightening, Jia Lan focused her mind, and with just a thought, the process began. Stalks of rice shimmered faintly, and then swish, swish they were neatly harvested, bundles vanishing from the field to reappear instantly in the storage warehouse. The vegetables followed, lifting gently from the soil as though guided by invisible hands, roots shaking off clumps of dirt before disappearing. It was astonishingly easy, a process that would take farmers days done within moments.
As she worked, Jia Lan kept glancing at a patch of vegetables she had intentionally left unharvested two days earlier. She had wanted to test whether crops that had matured would spoil if left too long. To her delight, the cabbages and carrots there looked just as fresh as ever, their leaves crisp, their colors vibrant. No sign of wilting or decay at all.
"So, even after maturity, they don't spoil quickly here…" she murmured thoughtfully, eyes shining. "That means I don't have to rush. I can let them stay until I'm ready." It was a relief. Unlike in the real world, there was no urgency, no fear of waste. Everything here obeyed its own miraculous rhythm.
Still, she couldn't resist harvesting them now. With a flick of her mind, the entire patch vanished neatly into storage.
The process was seamless, her body barely moving as her mind directed everything. It felt empowering, like she was a goddess presiding over this fertile little world. And yet, there was also comfort in the ease of it—the knowledge that no matter what the outside world was like, she would never go hungry, never lack resources.
Once the harvesting was done, she let herself indulge again, plucking a cluster of grapes from a vine curling around its trellis. The grapes were plump and deep purple, glistening like tiny gems. She popped one into her mouth and gasped softly. It was so sweet that it seemed to melt on her tongue, leaving only a lingering floral aftertaste. She closed her eyes, savoring the richness.
One after another, she ate a handful, laughing at herself for being greedy. "If anyone saw me now, they'd think I was a little pig." But she didn't care. The fruits here weren't just food—they were a gift, each bite reminding her how blessed she was.
After finishing her small feast, Jia Lan walked slowly through the space, trailing her fingers across the leaves, inhaling deeply of the mixed fragrances. The warehouse stood at the edge, tall and silent, its doors glowing faintly as if welcoming the new harvest. She directed her mind again, and everything she had collected flowed into it in an instant, stacked neatly and stored as though placed by careful hands.
The ease of it still amazed her. No aching back, no sweat-soaked labor just a thought, and everything was done. She turned, gazing across the now-harvested fields, feeling a quiet satisfaction. The land looked renewed, ready for the next cycle of growth.
"Not a bad way to start the New Year," she whispered, her voice full of warmth.