Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 11

Early the next morning, when Song Sancheng woke up, he was stunned.

The air… was so fresh!

In the distance, the mountains were shrouded in mist, with a thin layer of golden light softly draped over them, looking as beautiful as a scenic painting.

At the pond by the gate, a thick, dense layer of white fog almost completely covered the water’s surface. The fog was so low it seemed to be slowly drifting.

Song Sancheng noticed a plum tree by the courtyard that he clearly remembered had withered last month. Yet today, it had a few blossoms again. The small yellow buds, half open, were not only particularly cute but also gave off a distant, delicate fragrance.

At this moment, the old farmer felt a rare appreciation for the beauty around him, but he also sensed something was off, as if he was being watched…

He turned his head!

He saw seven or eight local gray squirrels clinging to the courtyard wall, peeking inside like paparazzi. Looking at the mountain behind, which still had the bleak appearance of just having passed winter, it somehow seemed brighter.

It was as if… it had been polished!

Song Sancheng stared for a long time, laughing at his own thoughts: “Achoo!”

It was too cold in the morning.

He quickly shook off his random thoughts, grabbed a pile of firewood, and went to light the stove.

Ah, the hardships of an old man. Everyone else was afraid of the cold, yet he had to get up and light the fire.

…

Inside the room.

Song Tan slowly retracted her consciousness. The spiritual energy attracted by her Water-Wood Spiritual Method had now turned into a denser vitality that spread quietly around.

The air inside and outside the house was fresh.

Feeling the abundant spiritual energy in her body, Song Tan let out a long sigh of relief—her body was finally almost healed.

Song Tan left the room, freshened up a bit, then pulled out two stalks of wild grass from the pile of firewood, casually tied them into a cross shape, and squatted in the empty vegetable garden. She placed the cross in her palms, its end lightly touching the ground—

Then she closed her eyes slightly and murmured:

“How is my savior now?”

This was a form of divination.

An ancient method similar to the I Ching and Eight Trigrams, it required very little spiritual energy. Many ordinary people with a bit of spiritual practice could do it, which was why it was the only thing Song Tan, still in the Qi Refining stage, could accomplish.

Of course, since the entry threshold was low, the results were also… sketchy.

…

The man who saved her during the car accident—if it weren’t for him, even with spiritual energy repairing her body after the crossing, she would have had a hard time surviving such an explosion.

The memory was too chaotic, with the conflict between spiritual energy and physical injuries. Song Tan only remembered his dark brown eyes and thick eyelashes…

She couldn’t find out anything in the hospital. Now that her spiritual energy had somewhat recovered, she naturally wanted to investigate as soon as possible.

Cultivators valued karma, and Song Tan valued gratitude.

If nothing else, she could at least send him some local specialties.

Dr. Zhang at the hospital had been vague, which she found suspicious.

With spiritual energy surging, the simple divination stick slowly moved in the damp morning soil. Song Tan opened her eyes and saw a scattered response on the ground:

“Not dead”

Song Tan: …

She was exasperated.

What kind of answer was this? No wonder no one in the Cang Xuan Realm used this method anymore!

Unwilling to give up, she closed her eyes again and asked quietly, “Where is my savior now?”

The spiritual energy surged once more, finally forming another scattered line of text:

“At home”

Song Tan was even more frustrated!

She threw the cross-shaped grass aside, feeling for the first time that divination was useless. She thought for a moment, then decided to message Dr. Zhang at the Ning Province People’s Hospital again:

“Dr. Zhang, could you please check how the gentleman who saved me is doing now? Was his transfer due to health reasons? If possible, could you provide his contact information?”

“I must personally thank him for saving my life, even if he doesn’t need my gratitude.”

It took a long time for a reply: “I’ll ask for you again.”

…

In the cold winter morning, washing vegetables in the kitchen was a chilly task, so Wu Lan simply cooked a large pot of dumplings. Meanwhile, Qiao Qiao buzzed around like a top, serving dumplings and dumpling soup to his sister.

The couple, with one cooking and the other making the fire, served themselves and ate independently, relying on their own efforts!

And Song Tan?

She sat leisurely in a chair, coaxing Qiao Qiao: “Qiao Qiao is so good!”

“Qiao Qiao is so obedient!”

“Sister drank the dumpling soup that Qiao Qiao brought in one gulp!”

Wu Lan and Song Sancheng remained silent.

Their silly son, what to do?

Out of sight, out of mind, Song Sancheng cleared his throat and changed the subject:

“By the way, the plowers are coming this morning. We’ll need to cook more food for lunch.”

Song Tan was curious: “Are they bringing a tractor?”

Where could they find a tractor now?

“They’re using a small three-wheeler.”

Song Tan: !!!

A small plowing machine was one thing, but transporting it with a three-wheeler seemed a bit dismissive of it. Besides, could a three-wheeler handle the mountainous terrain?

She hadn’t figured this out yet when she heard the sound of a vehicle outside. Going out to take a look, she saw a well-worn maroon three-wheeler, just like the ones used for moving goods in Ning City.

In its small yet seemingly large cargo bed was an equally old maroon plowing machine, ready for work.

“Brother, where’s the field? I’ll get started right away!”

“You’re here early! Have you eaten?”

The two men exchanged pleasantries, then walked towards the field amidst the rumble of the three-wheeler.

Meanwhile, Wu Lan, planning the lunch menu, didn’t forget to instruct her daughter:

“I’ve hired quite a few people to cut trees on the back mountain. We’ll clear some space for the pigsty and use the logs for planting black fungus and silver fungus, as you wanted.”

With the money already spent, Wu Lan had to accept these plans. She felt calm as she spoke:

“I’ll also ask someone to clear the weeds in the chestnut grove by the pond. Otherwise, they’ll interfere with the fungus planting.”

Muttering to herself: “Hiring people to clear weeds is more expensive than using herbicide…”

Song Tan pretended to be a quail, knowing that herbicides were out of the question.

However, pretending to be a quail didn’t save her. Wu Lan looked at her again: “You wanted to plant crops, so you can’t just sit around. Go handle the seeds.”

Song Tan quickly nodded.

Qiao Qiao, holding his bowl, had just pierced a big dumpling with his chopsticks. Not understanding much, he quickly said: “Sister! I’ll help you!”

—Wu Lan looked even more annoyed.

…

Handling the seeds of the Chinese milk vetch was quite simple.

Song Tan and Qiao Qiao brought in two shovelfuls of sand, mixed it with the seeds, and rubbed them together—this would thin the thick seed coats and help them germinate faster.

Besides requiring a bit of strength, this rough task had a unique fun to it. Qiao Qiao laughed as he rubbed, clearly showing a knack for farming.

Once they were done rubbing, the seeds needed to be dried.

After drying for a few hours, they would soak the seeds for half a day.

By noon, after a few stirrings, they would discard the inferior seeds that floated to the top.

The seeds were then ready.

After all, it was green manure, and this rough planting method had been used for years. The only difference was that while soaking the seeds, Song Tan infused some spiritual energy into the water.

Looking at half the courtyard filled with seeds, Qiao Qiao was very pleased: “Sister, farming is so much fun!”

Though his arms were a bit sore.