The next few days passed like a calm stream, unhurried and clear.
Every morning, Lin Mu went to the portable world for a few hours — enough time to tend to his crops, water his seedlings, and watch over the newly planted peach saplings. They were growing well, basking under the sunlight of that mysterious world. The rich soil and gentle spring water seemed to breathe life into every plant.
By the real world's clock, only a few hours had passed each time he returned, and yet he had already harvested three full rounds of leafy greens. He was beginning to understand the rhythm — plant in the morning, harvest by evening, and let the soil rest under the starlight of the inner world.
That morning, he harvested a bundle of Chinese spinach and bundled it with a few sprigs of mint. The leaves sparkled with dew from the portable world, fresh and rich in color. He gently wiped each one dry and packed them neatly into a wicker basket lined with cloth.
Instead of going to the market today, he had a different idea.
---
Nanjiang Town wasn't big, but it had a few local teahouses — small, quiet places where old men spent their mornings drinking flower tea, gossiping, and reading newspapers. One of them was just around the corner from the temple. It was called Jingyu Teahouse, run by a quiet, scholarly man named Uncle Fang.
Lin Mu remembered him well. He had visited a few times with his grandfather when he was a child. Uncle Fang was a tea enthusiast, with a nose sharp enough to tell whether water was boiled in iron or clay.
If anyone could appreciate the taste of spring water from another world — it would be him.
---
The little bell above the door jingled as Lin Mu stepped in.
The teahouse was calm, the air scented with dried chrysanthemum and sandalwood. Uncle Fang sat behind the counter, polishing a set of Yixing teapots.
He looked up and smiled. "Lin Mu? Haven't seen you in a while. Here for tea?"
Lin Mu nodded and placed the basket gently on the counter.
"I actually brought something… I'd like you to try."
Uncle Fang raised an eyebrow.
"I found a spring in the hills behind our old house," Lin Mu said casually. "The water tastes… different. I thought you might be interested."
The older man took the gourd from Lin Mu's bag and poured a small amount into his clay kettle. As the water heated, he sniffed it with practiced expertise.
"Clean… very clean," he muttered. "Almost no mineral scent. Like snowmelt."
He brewed a small pot of wild chrysanthemum with the spring water and took a sip.
Then he paused.
His brow lifted slightly — not in shock, but in recognition. He took another sip, slower this time.
"This reminds me of the mountain springs near Emei… but purer," he said. "Soft on the tongue. It doesn't interfere with the tea, but lifts it."
Lin Mu smiled quietly. "Do you think customers would notice?"
"Absolutely," Uncle Fang replied. "People might not describe it, but they'll feel it. Tea tastes better with this water."
There was a moment of thoughtful silence.
Uncle Fang looked at him carefully. "You're not planning something strange, are you?"
Lin Mu chuckled. "No tricks. Just thought maybe… I could supply some water. A few gourds a week. Quietly."
The old man nodded slowly. "That could work. Let's try a trial week."
He handed Lin Mu ¥80 in cash — more than Lin Mu expected.
"Don't underestimate good water," he added with a smile.
---
On the way home, Lin Mu felt a lightness in his steps.
For the first time, he wasn't just selling vegetables — he had started introducing something intangible. A piece of the quiet, magical world he had found.
---
That evening, he returned to the portable world and wandered a bit beyond the farming plot. The landscape changed subtly — trees grew taller, the air a bit cooler. As he followed a slope down, he found a grove of low bushes covered in tiny white flowers. Kneeling down, he recognized them: wild jasmine.
He gathered a small amount and brought it back, drying it gently in the sun inside the world.
Jasmine mint tea, he thought. Perfect for summer. Refreshing, fragrant, and unique.
As he worked, the system chimed softly in his ear.
---
[New Recipe Discovered: Jasmine Mint Tea]
• Bonus: Increases energy, improves sleep
• Potential Market Value: High
• Would you like to package this as a product sample?
→ Yes / No
---
He paused, then chose Yes.
The system created a small, simple pouch — a kraft-paper-style tea bag sealed with a string and printed label:
"Jasmine Mint — from Lin's Garden"
It was… charming.
Quiet. Personal. Just like him.
---
The next day, Lin Mu visited a small gift shop next to the train station. It was owned by an old couple who sold local specialties to passing tourists — bamboo fans, dried plum candies, handmade soaps.
He asked politely if they would be willing to place a few of his tea samples near the counter — no charge, just a trial.
They agreed.
That night, he brewed a cup for his mother as she rested after a long day in the shop.
She took one sip and blinked. "What is this? It's so calming…"
"Just something I made," Lin Mu replied softly.
---
That week, two small orders came in — one from a local cafe, and another from a tourist who had tried the tea and asked if more could be mailed.
He sold six pouches. Total profit: ¥42.
Again, not much.
But for Lin Mu, it wasn't about the money.
It was the feeling of seeing something bloom — a tiny dream rooted in quiet soil, watered by hope, growing leaf by leaf.
---
As the peach trees blossomed in the distance, and the farming plot grew lush with spring vegetables, Lin Mu sat by the river in his world, legs crossed, a small wooden box of tea at his side.
The stars above twinkled calmly.
And he thought:
Maybe one day, I can open a small tea house of my own.
No rush.
He had time. More than enough.
---
End of Chapter 3