The biggest problems remain hunger and the spiritual fields. Their dry rations have long been exhausted, and they've practically plucked all the wild vegetables in the vicinity.
Li Xuan had no choice but to go to the stream to the west again, partly to try his luck in finding food, and partly to show those who might be paying attention to him that he, Li Xuan, was also a normal person who needed to drink ordinary water.
Li Xuan tried to avoid the times when Wang Mazi and his gang were most active. If he was lucky, he could catch a few small fish about the length of a finger in the shallows of the stream, or pick up some snails. He could then cook a fish soup with broken tiles, which would be an unparalleled delicacy and could slightly replenish the energy his body had consumed.
Lingtian's condition remains worrying. Under his meticulous care, the Yuya rice seedlings have stubbornly survived, turned green, and grown a little taller, but it seems a long way off before they head and produce grains.
With the end-of-month inspection fast approaching, Li Xuan was extremely anxious. He prepared to try casting the "Spirit Rain Technique" again.
This time, he was mentally prepared. He concentrated, made hand seals, and chanted incantations.
The vigorous energy and blood that had accumulated in his body from drinking water was once again stirred, and a trace of it was drawn away. A small ball of murky water vapor, the size of an egg, condensed above his fingertips, and with a plop, a dozen drops of muddy water fell, a little more than last time, but it still did nothing to help. Instead, it made him feel dizzy and his hunger intensified.
"No, this path is blocked." Li Xuan gasped for breath, giving up. "The consumption is too great, but the output is useless. It's not worth it."
It seems there's no hope of improving irrigation water quality in the short term. Li Xuan can only pin his hopes on the slight positive effect of the well water on the crops, and on more meticulous farming practices.
Li Xuan practically lived in the fields. He weeded thoroughly, loosened the soil with meticulous care, and carefully controlled the timing and amount of watering.
He even tried crushing the small fish and snails he caught, mixing them with well water to ferment them, and making the simplest "fertilizer," which he carefully applied to the roots of the seedlings.
All of this was observed by Zhao Tie, who happened to be passing by.
That day, Zhao Tie passed by again and saw Li Xuan carefully mixing the fermented fish fertilizer into the irrigation water. He couldn't help but say, "Junior Brother Li, you're going too far. It's no use. This land is like this. No matter how much you mess with it, it won't produce much grain."
Li Xuan raised his head, wiped his sweat, and gave a bitter yet stubborn smile: "Senior Brother Zhao, we have to give it a try. If we don't complete the mission, we'll be kicked out."
Zhao Tie shook his head, sighed, and took out two dusty, hard flatbreads from the basket on his back, handing them over: "Here, take these. I've seen you eating wild vegetables and river snails every day, your face is practically green with hunger. These are coarse grain flatbreads from the servants' quarters, they're not very tasty, but they'll keep you full."
Li Xuan was taken aback. Looking at the two poorly presented pancakes, a warm feeling welled up in his heart. In this indifferent world of cultivation, this bit of kindness seemed especially precious.
He didn't stand on ceremony, accepted it, and sincerely said, "Thank you, Senior Brother Zhao!"
"Don't be so polite. There are only a few households like ours on the back mountain, so it's only right that we look out for each other." Zhao Tie waved his hand and continued:
"But to be honest, it's impossible for you to deliver 100 catties of corn rice by the end of the month from your land. My land is a little better than yours, but I'll probably only get 70 or 80 catties, and I'll still get scolded by the foreman."
Li Xuan nodded silently, took a bite of the coarse grain pancake, and found it to be hard and rough, which made his throat feel dry, but it did provide a solid feeling of fullness.
"Is the manager... very strict?" Li Xuan asked tentatively.
"Hmph, that Manager Zhang is incredibly stingy," Zhao Tie said in a low voice. "He often deducts from our monthly allowance, and he punishes us terribly if we don't complete our tasks. But he's only arrogant in front of us menial laborers; he wouldn't dare utter a word to the outer disciples. If you hand over a little something at the end of the month, and then reluctantly give them some gifts... maybe you can get away with it."
"Deliver something?" Li Xuan was bewildered; he was currently penniless.
"Sigh, you don't seem to have much to offer." Zhao Tie gave him a sympathetic look. "Good luck. If all else fails... you'll just have to leave."
After Zhao Tie left, Li Xuan looked at the pancake in his hand, then at the lush but weak rice seedlings, and felt heavy-hearted.
He couldn't leave! Where would he go? Although the Bright Moon Sect was just a sect in a small country in the Eastern Region, it could at least offer some protection, and there was also this well that was of great significance to him. The outside world was more dangerous, and he might not be able to find a replacement water source.
They must stay! A ruthless glint flashed in Li Xuan's eyes. If they couldn't hand over the rice, they'd be punished, possibly even searched? No, they absolutely couldn't attract any serious attention.
Li Xuan looked at the well, and an idea popped into his head: the well water was less effective for me, but what about these ordinary seedlings? What if the irrigation concentration was increased?
He had previously been using well water to irrigate the seedlings, fearing it would be too harsh and burn them. But now he couldn't worry about that anymore.
Li Xuan began experimenting with using well water of higher concentration for irrigation, and even submerged buckets directly to the bottom of the well to retrieve water from deeper depths that might have a slightly higher concentration of spiritual energy.
A few days later, Li Xuan was pleasantly surprised to find that the seedlings seemed to have grown a little faster! The leaves were greener and the stems seemed to be thicker.
It worked! Although the risks were high and it might be counterproductive, it was his only hope. He decided to take the plunge.
At the same time, Li Xuan increased the frequency and amount of water he drank. His body was like a bottomless pit, greedily absorbing the faint spiritual energy and transforming it into more solid strength.
His skin became more resilient, his muscle lines became smoother, and he seemed to possess a power that could be unleashed at any moment.
The end of the month is approaching.
...
Finally, the end of the month has arrived.
In Li Xuan's spirit field, the Jade Sprout Rice seedlings were indeed much taller than before, but they were still far from being mature and plump. The sparse ears of grain had just emerged, and they were extremely shriveled, clearly indicating a low yield.
Li Xuan was filled with anxiety. He had almost emptied the well to get the seedlings to grow to this size.
In the early morning, a middle-aged man dressed in a gray butler's uniform, with a sallow complexion and a critical eye, arrived at the C area of the back mountain, accompanied by an outer disciple.
This is Steward Zhang, who is in charge of managing this field of miscellaneous laborers. He first went to Zhao Tie's field, number six of the Bingzi section.
The corn in Zhao Tietian's field was growing much better than that in Li Xuan's field, with more and fuller ears of corn.
Manager Zhang pinched the rice ears with his hand, curled his lip, and said, "Number 6, Grade C, Zhao Tie! The Jade Sprout Rice ears are small and shriveled, the quality is insufficient, the estimated yield is seventy catties! It does not reach the standard of one hundred catties, so this is a demerit, and half of this month's allowance (three inferior fasting pills) will be deducted!"
Zhao Tie looked pained but dared not object, and could only bow his head and reply, "Yes, steward."
Manager Zhang snorted and strode towards Li Xuan's plot of land, number seven (C1). Upon reaching the edge of the plot, Manager Zhang's brows furrowed deeply, and his expression grew even more grim.
He looked at the lush green but clearly underdeveloped rice seedlings with sparse, withered ears, and said coldly, "Number 7, Class C, Li Xuan! Is this the field you've cultivated?"