NOVEL WEB Chapter 8: Soil and Silk
The road to Magistrate Cao's estate wound between terraced hills, each step of earth crowned with early-season tea bushes. Lin Fan sat across from Steward Liu inside the small lacquered carriage, conscious of mud stains on his knees and the straw smell that clung to his shirt. The steward, by contrast, looked as if he had been pressed from silk and starch an hour ago no dust on his boots, no wrinkle in his gray robe.
They had spoken only once since leaving Green Willow Village. Liu had asked whether Lin required breakfast; Lin had declined, unwilling to accept favors so early in the game. Now they rode in near silence, broken only by the squeak of wooden wheels and the rhythmic snort of the pair of chestnut horses.
Lin Fan used the quiet to experiment with his new skill. Closing his eyes, he nudged Spirit Sense outward. The carriage wood hummed with faint lifeforce, a slow, sleepy sap. The earth beneath the road pulsed steadier, as if waiting for roots that would never come. Each time the horses' hooves struck, little sparks of vitality leapt in the air. He withdrew before the sensation became overwhelming. Yes. Herbal Remedy let him heal plants, but Spirit Sense would make sure he never over-or-underused the land again.
"Meditating?" Steward Liu asked without looking up from a parchment ledger. "Observing," Lin answered. "A farmer's eyes should stay sharp."
The steward's lips curved. "We appreciate diligence. The magistrate rewards those who improve his yields." Improve, Lin noted, not share or teach improve his yields. Words mattered.
The carriage slowed. Through the window Lin saw white walls topped with dark glazed tiles: Magistrate Cao's manor. Banyan branches arched over the gate like welcoming arms; gilded characters on a wooden plaque read, "Verdant Prosperity Hall."
Inside the courtyard, servants bustled in orderly silence, sweeping stone paths free of imaginary dust. The air smelled of camellia blossoms and incense a perfume so thick it almost hid the scent of soil.
A slender man in a plum robe stepped forward as Lin climbed down. His hair was bound with a golden clasp; faint medicinal herbs clung to his sleeves.
"Physician Mo," Steward Liu announced, "this is Lin Fan, the farmer prodigy."
Physician Mo studied Lin the way a buyer inspected livestock. "The magistrate welcomes fresh insight. I am to evaluate your… methods." He gestured toward a side path. "If you please."
Lin bowed neither too low nor too hastily and followed. They passed koi ponds, trimmed hedges, and a pavilion whose pillars were carved with scenes of cultivators summoning storms. At last they reached the back gardens several small experimental plots, each tilled into neat rectangles.
"At dawn," Physician Mo explained, "these seedlings were deliberately weakened for testing. Revive one bed. Show us today's miracle."
Lin bent to inspect the nearest plot. Bean shoots drooped, leaves pale. Soil smelled over-watered, compacted. Simple enough. He pressed a hand to the earth and whispered, "Verdant Pulse." Emerald light seeped from his palm, threading through the dirt like veins of dawn. Leaves stiffened, color returning. In under a minute the entire bed looked as if rain and sun had loved it for weeks.
Gasps burst from hidden corners. Lin straightened to see three more men in scholar robes step from behind a screen witnesses planted like cabbages. Physician Mo's brows rose despite himself.
Steward Liu clapped once, polite but not joyous. "Impressive. However, isolated demonstrations are easily staged. The magistrate prefers lasting results."
Liu nodded to servants, who scattered toward other test plots with buckets of brine and bundles of weeds. "You will revive each bed, document your actions, and maintain them for three days. In return, your mother will receive the magistrate's full medical resources."
Three days. That matched the window Lin had quietly set for the Lung-clearing tonic's brew cycle. Fortune, for once, aligned.
"I accept," Lin said. "But I ask for seed of my own choosing, and free movement within the gardens." Physician Mo's eyes narrowed, but Liu merely said, "Granted within reason."
A gong sounded in the distance the second-hour meal. Liu led him toward guest quarters, warning that work would begin after breakfast. As they walked, Lin skimmed the Spirit Farmer interface.
[Side Quest: Sustain Magistrate Gardens – Three days]
[Reward options: Access to Cao Estate Library, 500 silver taels, or Unknown Spirit Tool]
A library… Books on advanced cultivation, irrigation channels, perhaps even secret breathing arts. Silver was tempting, but knowledge grew like seed year after year.
Inside the guest room, incense coils spiraled lazy smoke. Chrysanthemum tea sat on a low table beside fresh fruit. Servants bowed, retreating so silently the door barely creaked. Lin ignored the softness of silk cushions and knelt on the tatami, spreading out his satchel's contents: leftover Lung-Clearing petals, a vial of tonic, a sealed pouch of healthy rice grains, and a single sprout clipped from the spirit tree his silent insurance.
He activated Herbal Remedy on a sliver of petal, distilling a drop of essence. Swirling it in a cup, he tasted. Warm coolness spread through his chest, sharpening his thoughts. Good no potency lost. He mixed a second droplet with water and placed it beside the tea tray; a servant would carry it to his mother by messenger sparrow before dusk. The rest he stored.
Footsteps whispered outside. Two voices, Liu's measured baritone and a thinner, urgent tone.
"…must secure the boy's method. The magistrate grows impatient," said the thinner voice.
"All in due time," Liu replied. "If honey fails, stronger measures wait."
Stronger measures. Lin's hand tightened around the tiny spirit-tree sprout. He slipped it into his sleeve and breathed slow. He had tilled hard soil his whole life; a few roots of intrigue would not choke him now.
A knock. "Lin Fan, the magistrate invites you to dine," Liu called.
Lin rose, smoothing his patched sleeves with deliberate calm. The system flashed:
[Hidden Objective: Uncover motive behind 'stronger measures']
[Reward: Skill upgrade or escape route]
He stepped into the corridor where silk lanterns washed the walls in gold. As the doors closed behind him, he thought of rice stalks bending in the wind: flexible, humble, yet stubborn enough to feed nations. He would bend, yes but only enough to grow taller than those who wished to harvest him.
And somewhere beyond the manor walls, the earth waited, ready to answer his call.