“Little brat, do I look fine to you?”

Old Daoist Li scoffed, his eyes narrowed in derision. His bony fingers clamped down on Han Yu’s wrist, gripping so tightly it hurt. “So, this is also what an Immortal Master is… this is an Immortal Master… Hah! And here I thought they were something special!”

“To learn from them, I even stopped cultivating my Blood Refining Art!”

“It seems I didn’t need to stop after all. It’s all the same—cough!”

As he spoke, a bitter, disillusioned smile twisted Li’s sunken, ugly face.

Perhaps his emotions were too agitated, for he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Han Yu helped him back to his stone hut and then carried over the old man’s seeds.

Lying on his bed, Old Daoist Li watched the boy bustling about, his gaze gradually softening.

This kid is nothing like his grandfather. His kind heart is more like Wan’er’s.

“Little brat, why are you taking care of me? I wanted to hit you just yesterday. Have you forgotten?”

Han Yu thought for a moment before replying, “Master Daoist, you kept saying you’d be harsh with me along the way, but you never actually harmed me. If someone truly wanted to rob me, like the Village Head or Steward Wang, they wouldn’t have wasted so many words on me.”

Old Daoist Li smiled in relief, his cloudy old eyes holding a gentle light, though his voice remained hoarse. “You’re not stupid, after all.”

In the afternoon, Steward Wang returned. He gave Han Yu and Old Daoist Li one hundred jin of coarse rice each, then turned and left without a single word of explanation.

Neither needed an explanation to understand. This hundred jin of coarse rice was likely the entire payment for their one-tenth harvest share, twice a year.

Given Steward Wang’s tyrannical nature, hoping for a second delivery of food was a fantasy.

That evening, Sun Kang brought fifty jin of regular rice each to Li and Han Yu. Upon learning that Li had angered Steward Wang and been injured, he couldn’t help but sigh.

“Steward Wang has always been the absolute authority in our Spirit Field Department. He’s somewhat better toward those like Sun Lan who have hope of becoming Outer Disciples. For those without hope, his exploitation has always been severe.”

“One jin of Green Grain Spirit Rice can be exchanged for two hundred jin of mortal rice within Wanchun Valley. If taken outside the valley and into the hands of mortal nobility, it could fetch several hundred, even over a thousand jin of mortal rice, not to mention even more coarse rice.”

“For Steward Wang to use this mere hundred jin of coarse rice to claim one-tenth of your harvest… that’s truly…”

Sun Kang trailed off, afraid of being overheard, and fell silent.

Seeing that Sun Kang was a decent man who had genuinely delivered food—more trustworthy than Zhang Shan with his empty lip service, and more reliable than the young girl Liu Lan—Old Daoist Li thanked him earnestly, intending to build a good relationship.

Han Yu also expressed his thanks, then asked, “Senior Brother Sun, what is Green Grain Rice used for? Is it different from mortal rice?”

“Of course it’s different!”

Sun Kang laughed. “Mortal rice can at most fill your belly. Green Grain Spirit Rice contains spiritual energy! It aids our cultivation. If we could eat spirit rice every day, our cultivation speed would be much faster!”

Old Daoist Li lamented, “With that bastard Wang around, when will we ever get to eat spirit rice?”

Han Yu, however, felt a stir in his heart, remembering the replicated Keepsake Token and his own essence blood.

If I could replicate spirit rice…

“Senior Brother Sun, do you have any spirit rice? Could I take a look at it? It’s not the same as the spirit seeds we were issued, right?”

Sun Kang scratched his head, somewhat troubled. “Mature spirit rice and the processed spirit seeds from the sect are indeed different. I do have a little spirit rice left, but… but I need it for my own cultivation. I can’t lend it out!”

He possessed Four Spirit Roots. Having entered the sect five years ago, he was preparing to break through to the third level of Qi Refining this year. Every scrap of cultivation resource was precious to him.

He could spare some mortal rice to help, but spirit rice was absolutely out of the question.

“Senior Brother Sun, I’m not asking to borrow your spirit rice. I just want to see what it looks like.”

Sun Kang’s heart softened. After much hesitation, he said, “Then go wait in your hut. I’ll show you in a little while.”

Han Yu nodded eagerly.

Returning to his hut, Han Yu didn’t wait long before Sun Kang arrived.

Sun Kang held two clean cloth bundles. Unwrapping one revealed a fist-sized clump of cooked rice.

“This is a rice ball made from Green Grain Spirit Rice.”

The other cloth bundle held a small handful of milky-white rice grains that faintly glowed.

“And this is the raw Green Grain Spirit Rice.”

Han Yu felt that both the rice and the rice ball possessed an aura distinct from any mortal rice he had ever seen, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint the difference. Perhaps this was the effect of spiritual energy?

“Senior Brother Sun, may I touch it?”

Sun Kang nodded and handed over the Green Grain Spirit Rice ball.

Seeing that Sun Kang didn’t offer the loose spirit rice, Han Yu didn’t reach for it. After all, Senior Brother Sun had already been very generous. It wouldn’t be good if the precious grains were spilled.

Taking the spirit rice ball, Han Yu felt it through the cloth with his palm.

With a focused thought, his right hand grew hot as burning charcoal—the same sensation he’d felt when replicating the Wanchun Valley Keepsake Token and his own essence blood.

Moments later, a heavy weight materialized within his robes.

It worked!

Suppressing his inner joy, Han Yu returned the spirit rice ball and thanked Sun Kang sincerely. “Senior Brother Sun, thank you so much! If not for you, I wouldn’t know what Green Grain Spirit Rice looked like!”

Sun Kang put away the two cloth bundles and gave a simple, honest smile. “No need for thanks. You’d find out sooner or later anyway. I just let you see it a bit earlier.”

He didn’t know what seeing the spirit rice today meant for Han Yu. But Han Yu knew the magnitude of his opportunity, so his gratitude was especially heartfelt, which made Sun Kang feel a little bashful.

After Sun Kang left, Han Yu pulled the cloth bundle from his robes. Unwrapping it, a perfect replica of the Green Grain Spirit Rice ball sat in his hand.

With this, his cultivation would surely proceed much more smoothly!

That night, Han Yu didn’t cultivate the Blood Refining Art. He merely took out the small jar of warhorse essence blood to feed the large crow, then retired early.

The next day, Old Daoist Li was still recuperating and didn’t come out to tend the spirit fields.

Han Yu didn’t go out either. He was waiting.

When evening approached, Han Yu estimated the time was right. He took out his only spirit rice ball and began replicating.

In the blink of an eye, the spirit rice ball became two.

A look of delight instantly spread across Han Yu’s face. He hurriedly stored one rice ball away and ate the other.

Having not eaten all day, his hungry stomach immediately felt a warm, comfortable satisfaction spread through his body. Afterward, Han Yu began attempting to gather the airflow within his body according to the Green Grain Qi Cultivation Method, slowly trying to form a Circulation Cycle.

For a first-level Qi Refining cultivator, the greatest marker wasn’t the ability to use spells, but the ability to circulate their Qi through one complete cycle. For those like Old Daoist Li and Han Yu who hadn’t yet entered the door, it was about continuously absorbing spiritual energy, trying to generate enough airflow within the body to supply that first Circulation Cycle.

With the aid of the spirit rice ball, Han Yu cultivated for most of the night without feeling hungry, thirsty, or tired. On the contrary, he felt energetic and alert, sensing that a few faint strands of airflow had vaguely been produced.

Though he was still far from the first level of Qi Refining, it no longer felt like an utterly unreachable mystery.

Early the next morning, Han Yu went out to tend his five acres of spirit fields.

He had only been working for half an hour when Zhang Shan, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan each came by to say a few words, offering pointers on the proper spacing and planting methods for Green Grain Spirit Rice.

Han Yu thought to himself: Actually, not all the Immortal Masters of Wanchun Valley are as bad as Steward Wang.

Like the one patrolling the gate. Though a bit arrogant, he can’t be considered bad.

And like Jin Qi and Sun Kang—they’re definitely good senior brothers eager to help.

It’s just that the Daoist and I had bad luck, falling into the hands of that scoundrel Steward Wang.

Old Daoist Li eventually came out to start tending his spirit fields. Han Yu glanced over and, seeing him looking refreshed, guessed he had likely used the warhorse essence blood as Blood Food to recover from his injuries.

Spirit fields were not easy to work. The soil seemed harder and more compact than ordinary earth, like uncultivated wasteland. Old Daoist Li and Han Yu toiled for a full day, only managing to plant a little over two acres.