Dawn had only just broken. The sky was a pale silver, and a light fog still blanketed the land like a worn veil. The market below lay hushed, its outlines blurred by mist.
At the edge of the family estate, a quiet courtyard stretched roughly 9 meters long and 6 meters wide, hemmed in by low stone walls tinged with moss. Most of the space was filled with rich, black soil, broken only by a narrow stone path cutting through the center.
Delicate Spirit Plants dotted the field, their dewy leaves unfurling under the mist's caress. Overnight, the fog had acted as natural nourishment, leaving each stem glistening with early vitality.
A wooden door creaked open.
A young man stepped out of the modest stone house at the end of the path. He looked to be about seventeen. Dressed in a simple gray robe, his expression was calm, focused, and far older than his years.
Alex had lived in this world for just over a month—but his soul had come from elsewhere.
Once, he'd been a normal young man from Earth. Now, he found himself reborn into the body of a minor cultivator within the Virelot Clan, a lineage of alchemists and spirit farmers with more than a thousand years of history.
No tragic twist. No thunderous awakening. Just quiet confusion, slow adjustment, and eventually, a rhythm.
Though a member of a great family, Alex's position was humble. At only the second layer of Qi Refining, with average talent with 4 root bone and no powerful backing, he had been granted a small three-quarter-acre Spirit Field—a courtesy extended to the less gifted in hopes they might find their way in support roles.
And Alex? He was fine with that.
He moved silently through the rows of crops, inspecting each plant with care. Sunblossom Herbs, Ironstem Vines, Glintshade Moss—all first-rank Spirit Plants, commonly used in healing salves, cleansing powders, or minor elixirs.
Each one stood about 30 centimeters tall, faintly glowing in the mist. His touch was gentle, practiced.
In the back corner, two slender trees towered over the rest of the field—Silverfrond Trees, each just over 2 meters high. Their bark shimmered faintly, and nestled among the silver-green leaves were curved fruits, pale like crescent moons.
Silverfruits were rare and valuable. Eaten raw, they could mildly enhance a cultivator's spiritual reserves. Refined, they became key ingredients in pills like the Essence-Binding Pellet.
Alex took pride in their condition.
But not everything was going well.
He crouched near the western wall and carefully turned over a leaf on one of the Sunblossom Herbs.
There they were—thin black threads, nearly invisible, clinging like parasites to the underside of the leaf.
His expression tightened.
"They've spread since yesterday…"
He had first noticed them two days ago—small, subtle, but stubborn. He'd tried removing them by channeling his Spiritual Energy directly into the leaf, but it drained him. And worse, they kept returning.
He didn't know what they were. Mold? Spores? A pest infestation? His knowledge was limited.
Pulling the infected plant was one option. But if it failed to stop the spread, he'd lose more than just one crop.
"For now, I need to consult someone more experienced," he muttered.
He grimaced at the thought of the cost. While his family supplied the land, the maintenance, tools, pest control, and protective measures were all his responsibility. His savings—mostly spirit stones earned from small trades—were thin.
"I was saving that for field upgrades... guess I'll be skipping those for now."
He stood, surveying the perimeter.
The stone walls were lined with thorn-barrier vines, a cheap but basic deterrent meant to keep out wild creatures and spirit-hungry pests.
But his real "guardian" sat in the far corner.
A Straw Man Puppet, just under 1 meter tall, leaned against the wall like a forgotten scarecrow. Its limbs were stiff, its oversized head misshapen, with tufts of dry grass jutting out unevenly.
Alex had picked it up from the family's discard pile—secondhand, barely functioning. According to old notes, it was a low-tier product from the Thousand Gear Pavilion, programmed with basic defensive instincts.
In theory, it could alert him to wild beasts or pest infestations. In practice… it mostly stood around looking confused.
But that didn't bother Alex. He didn't need it to fend off invaders.
"I'm in the family estate," he thought. "The only thing I need guarding against are insects, not fellow cultivators."
He turned away from the puppet and stretched out his hands. Threads of glowing water condensed in the air, then fell in a soft drizzle across the plants.
The Spirit Rain Technique was simple but essential—channeling spiritual energy into vapor to nourish crops and strengthen their growth.
Leaves perked up. Moss shimmered. Fruits gleamed with fresh vitality.
Then, something changed.
One of the Sunblossom Herbs shimmered faintly. Its glow intensified, as though it had reached some internal threshold.
"Mature already?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
He went inside, grabbed a White Jade Box, and returned to harvest the plant. With careful hands, he clipped it and sealed it inside—the box would preserve its spiritual potency until it could be used or sold.
But as he straightened, something caught his eye.
A soft white orb of light—about the size of a fist—hovered just above the soil where the plant had stood. It pulsed faintly, specks of energy drifting outward like dust motes.
Curious, Alex reached out and touched it.
The orb dissolved instantly into his skin.
Warmth surged through his body, and a single line of thought echoed in his mind:
"Harvested one Sunblossom Herb. Gained three months of cultivation."