NOVEL WEB Chapter 9: Seeds, Silk, and Schemes
A lacquered screen painted with cranes parted as Lin Fan was ushered into the main dining hall. Lantern light cascaded over a long rosewood table laden with delicacies: glazed duck, abalone in broth, towers of steamed buns. At the head sat Magistrate Cao himself—broad-shouldered, late forties, beard trimmed to a precise wedge of authority. Beside him lounged a young man with similar brows but sharper cheekbones, idly rotating a jade folding fan. Son, Lin guessed.
"Honored guest," the magistrate boomed, rising. "The fields whisper your name. Sit eat." His voice was warm, yet his eyes weighed Lin like grain on a scale.
Lin bowed, then took the low seat indicated three places down, far enough to mark status, close enough to converse. Servants poured rice wine. Aromas danced, but he kept his cup untouched; farming taught caution with unfamiliar brews.
Cao leaned forward. "Steward Liu tells me you restored a bean plot in moments."
"I coaxed the soil to breathe again, My Lord," Lin replied, choosing humble words. "Any farmer could, given patience."
The jade-fan son gave a short laugh. "Patience can't make light pour from mud. Don't play the rustic, friend."
Lin met his gaze evenly. "Forgive me, Young Master. Habit of modesty."
System text flickered.
[Spirit Sense Alert: faint medicinal vapor mild sedative—origin: wine jars]
So the first test had begun. He lifted the cup, let the liquid kiss his lip, then set it down. "Your wine is rich, My Lord. I fear it may dull my senses, and I need them sharp to tend tomorrow's beds."
Magistrate Cao's eyes glinted-amusement or annoyance, Lin couldn't tell. He gestured; servants replaced wine with jasmine tea. "Very well. A clear head honors clear soil." He tapped the table. "Tell me, Lin Fan, can your gift scale? My estates own four hundred mu of rice and tea. Revive them, and you may name any price."
Four hundred mu-acre after acre. Lin pictured himself tethered here, channeling Verdant Pulse until his spirit ran dry. "Large tracts require more than one man, My Lord. I can teach methods to improve yield, but true fertility grows from steady hands of many farmers."
The son snapped his fan shut. "Which methods? Show ledger, formula, talisman something we can hold. Words flutter like sparrows."
Lin reached into his satchel and produced the pouch of healthy rice grains. "I have begun cultivating a strain that resists blight and matures early. Permit me to demonstrate across your trial beds. Results will speak louder than scrolls."
Magistrate Cao stroked his beard. "Three days, as agreed. If your strain proves superior, we shall discuss wider planting."
Steward Liu entered with a small cedar box. "My Lord, the physician's morning notes." Cao opened it, nodding as he read, then passed it to his son, who scanned and shrugged.
Lin's system blinked again.
[Herbal Remedy synergy detected: patient files nearby contain rare illness data]
Curiosity pricked. Might the magistrate suffer a hidden ailment and thus his urgency? Lin bowed. "May I inquire of the estate's health? Strong crops feed strong people; weak bodies spoil the harvest."
Cao's eyebrow rose, then smoothed. "Thoughtful but ours is a household of vigor. Still, you may consult Physician Mo after supper."
The son yawned theatrically. "Father, indulge the prodigy. Perhaps he'll grow a cure-tree next."
A gong sounded; servants cleared dishes. As the magistrate dismissed the party, Lin pocketed a sweet sesame bun for later and followed Physician Mo down a moonlit corridor toward the infirmary.
"Keep pace," the doctor said briskly. "I dislike interruptions."
Inside a tiled chamber, shelves brimmed with lacquered drawers labeled ginseng, angelica, astragalus. A single patient bed lay curtained. Mo produced the morning ledger. "You claim soil knowledge; what of human Qi?"
Lin read the top entry: Lady Xu persistent night cough, blood-flecked phlegm. Another: Young Master Cao sporadic chest tightness after sword practice. So the son wasn't as smugly healthy as he appeared.
"I study patterns," Lin answered, "in roots or people." He unrolled a spare lotus-leaf packet, revealing a remaining Lung-Clearing petal. "May I test an infusion on your cough patient?"
Mo's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous to try unverified herbs."
Lin activated Herbal Remedy; a soft green mote rose from the petal. "This essence contains cleansing Qi. I'll administer one drop under supervision."
The physician hesitated, then produced a crystal vial. Lin let the mote settle inside. Its glow tinted the glass jade.
"We observe tonight," Mo decided. "If symptoms ease, I'll note your contribution."
As Lin left, the system chimed.
[Side Quest chained: Heal Lady Xu – Reward: Estate Credibility + Skill Upgrade chance]
He crossed the courtyard toward his guest room, mind racing. Help the household and he'd gain leverage; fail, and chains might follow.
A whisper slipped from the shadows. "Prodigy farmer."
Lin spun, hand over sprout hidden in his sleeve. A young maid emerged no older than twelve, eyes wide. She thrust a folded paper at him. "From the lady in silk. She says you read earth, read this." The girl darted away before he could respond.
Back inside, he opened the missive. Elegant brushstrokes: Beware the jade fan. Roots rot beneath polished water. Seek the well of echoes.
Jade fan the magistrate's son. Root rot? Poisoned fields? Or perhaps rotten intentions. The "well of echoes" he hadn't seen; likely a place within the manor.
He memorised the note, burned it over the brazier, and packed ash into a tea leaf no evidence. Then he nibbled the sesame bun, letting sugar steady his nerves.
System update:
[Hidden Objective progress: 12 % — Locate 'well of echoes']
A chill wind slipped through paper windows, rattling lantern frames. Somewhere in the estate, schemes ripened like overwatered fruit. But Lin Fan knew fruit best; he would test each for soundness and discard what was rotten. For now, he summoned Verdant Pulse one last time, directing the energy into the tiny spirit-tree sprout. It glimmered, a silent ally.
Tomorrow, test beds and whispers. Tonight, a farmer slept with seeds of power under silk roofs and dreamed of turning every plot, garden, and gilded hall into fertile ground for his own rise.