The Uji sun glowed gold as it crept over the misty hills, bathing the tea fields in light. By now, the farmhouse had grown quiet and lived-in—no longer a freshly renovated building but a home that breathed with routine and meaning.
Phuby stood on the veranda, nursing a warm mug of coffee. Behind him, laughter bubbled softly through the open sliding doors where Hana played with the twins, her voice full of melody and patience. It had become a kind of morning ritual. While Phuby checked emails, systems, and farm reports, Hana bathed and dressed the children and talked to them as if they could already understand her every word.
They were now just over three months old and already developing distinct personalities. The boy, Haru, was calm and observant like his father. The girl, Yui, was expressive and impatient like her mother. And both were equally adored.
But today was different.
Today marked the official opening of Uji Garden Produce—the soft-launch of their private farm's product line. While they had kept the farm itself closed to the public, their online orders had started to gain traction, especially after Hana's social media posts had gone semi-viral. Their harvest of strawberries and seasonal vegetables had quietly developed a following, thanks to well-framed photos, honest storytelling, and Hana's gentle presence in every post.
Phuby stepped inside and kissed Hana on the forehead. "Everything's scheduled for pickup by noon. The courier will take the first full order batch. And Yuriko already boxed the strawberries."
Hana smiled, adjusting the baby sling. "Yuriko's amazing. I still can't believe how well she manages her time between her kids and ours."
"And we've only just begun," Phuby said. "Next month, we'll start with the tea leaves too."
They had taken Kenta Sakamoto's advice seriously. The retired tea farmer had carefully curated several experimental rows using traditional organic methods, and the results were promising. Their farm, though small compared to industrial operations, was rich in taste and heritage—an edge they hadn't even planned for but now embraced fully.
Down by the edge of the greenhouse, Yuji was finishing up transplanting the last batch of romaine lettuce. He glanced toward the farmhouse and gave a shy wave when he spotted Phuby and Hana watching from the window. He was slowly coming out of his shell, especially with the encouragement from Om Luky during his brief stay before returning to Cirebon.
After breakfast, they loaded the labeled boxes into the minivan. Today's order included:
60 clamshell packs of hand-picked strawberries
35 bundles of baby spinach
40 cartons of small heirloom tomatoes
20 small jars of matcha strawberry jam, made by Emi and Hana
Total estimated revenue: Rp 9.600.000. Not enough to activate the system's cashback, but every sale now mattered for the brand, not just the system.
Later That Afternoon – A New Opportunity
While nursing Yui in the sunroom, Hana opened her email and let out a small gasp.
Phuby walked over immediately. "What happened?"
She handed him the phone. "Read this."
It was a formal business inquiry—from a small boutique hotel chain in Kyoto. They had discovered Uji Garden Produce on social media and wanted to place a recurring monthly order for their in-room welcome packages.
"This could become something real," Hana whispered.
"It already is," Phuby said, his voice steady.
But he wasn't just proud. He was moved.
Not by the system, or the cashback, or even the luxurious life he'd managed to build—but by how Hana's simple posts, their workers' dedication, and the spirit of their land had reached strangers' hearts. It wasn't just luck. It was love made visible through work.
Evening – A Call from Cirebon
Mrs. Wulan's voice beamed through the speakerphone, lively as ever. "The shop is busier than ever, Nak. Your Dhe'ik and Kotim? They're like magnets for customers. And Mamad keeps showing up after his nasi goreng stall closes just to hang around."
Phuby laughed. "That's good to hear."
"We sent a box to you, by the way," she added. "Some batik baby clothes from the shop nearby. And dried krupuk, your favorite."
"Please tell Mamad not to eat it all before it gets here," Hana joked from the couch.
"You think I didn't hide some from him?" Mrs. Wulan laughed. "You two rest, okay? I'll call tomorrow."
As the call ended, Phuby leaned back and sighed. Life was flowing—simple, honest, and alive.
Late Night – A Quiet Realization
While Hana slept with Yui curled against her chest and Haru swaddled beside her, Phuby stepped out under the stars, phone in hand.
The system pulsed softly, waiting.
No massive purchases today. No sudden cashback boosts. Just a simple prompt that said:
"Life milestone logged: Family business soft launch successful.""Shop refresh in 2 days."
And for the first time, Phuby didn't click anything.
He just looked up at the stars, breathed in the Uji night air, and said quietly, "Thank you."
He wasn't sure to whom—maybe to God, maybe to fate, or maybe just the world itself.
But gratitude wrapped around him like a second skin, and he felt more alive than ever before.