Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

Widow Li was awakened by the third rooster crow.

She stared at the thatch above her head for three breaths with her eyes open, then quickly sat up—not for herself, but for the small, warm mass beside her.

Her son was still asleep, his little body curled up in a ball, one hand clutching the hem of her clothes, his eyelashes casting thin shadows in the morning light.

She gently pulled the hem of her dress out, leaned down and touched his forehead. The child murmured something, turned over, and continued sleeping.

The sky outside the window was iron gray, and the fog was so thick it wouldn't dissipate.

As she dressed, her fingers touched a hard object under the pillow—a three-inch-long short blade, its blade gleaming from being sharpened.

She paused for a moment, then pulled it out and tucked it into her bosom, close to her skin.

Then I got out of bed and pushed open the door.

The well in the courtyard was still emitting cold air.

She filled a bucket halfway with water, moving very gently so as not to wake the child. A few fallen leaves floated on the surface of the water; she reached out and scooped them up. The water was very cold, and when she splashed it on her face, it jolted her awake considerably.

She looked at her reflection in the water—the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the faint dark circles under her eyes, and the gentle smile she had to maintain at the corners of her mouth.

Because she knew that in a little while, her son would come out of the house rubbing his eyes and call out "Mother" in a soft voice.

---

At the beginning of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), the son woke up.

The little one ran out barefoot and jumped onto her lap: "Mommy, I'm hungry."

"The porridge is in the pot." Widow Li bent down, picked him up, patted his bottom, and said, "Go wash your face, then eat."

"Is Uncle Chen coming back today?" the son asked, looking up at him with bright, sparkling eyes.

Widow Li paused, then said, "...I don't know."

"Uncle Chen said he'll bring me candy next time he comes back," the son said to himself, twisting his body to get out of bed and running to the well to scoop water.

Widow Li watched his retreating figure, and a tightness gripped her heart.

Chen Yuan does come back often.

It happens roughly every seven or eight days, sometimes in the evening, sometimes in the early morning.

When he came to check on the eight acres of spirit fields, he would bring some cheap candies bought at the outer market of the Flying Feather Sect and give them to his son. He would also pat the child's head and say, "You've grown taller."

She would always stand at the door, watching him bend down to talk to his son, watching his serious profile as he inspected the spirit field, and watching the glimmer of light in his eyes when he occasionally looked up towards the direction of the Flying Feather Sect.

---

After breakfast, Widow Li took her son to the fields.

Eight mu of spiritual fields, three mu of edelweiss, two mu of perilla, and three mu of Qingyang rice.

She comes to check every day to weed, water, and see if there are any pests.

The edelweiss grew the best, its leaves a bright red, like a burning fire in the morning light.

The perilla leaves are so thick you could squeeze water out of them, and the Qingyang rice has already sprouted ears, which are heavy with grain.

They're growing so well.

It's unusually good.

Widow Li squatted on the edge of the field, gently fiddling with the leaves of a edelweiss plant.

There are very faint red lines in the veins of the leaf, like blood vessels, flowing slowly.

She stared at it for a long time, then withdrew her hand and stood up.

"Mom, look!" the son exclaimed, pointing to a wildflower by the edge of the field. "A butterfly!"

A white cabbage white butterfly landed on the flower, its wings opening and closing.

"Don't touch it," Widow Li said softly. "Let it stay there."

The son obediently withdrew his hand, looked up at her, and asked, "Mom, why do Uncle Chen's fields grow so well?"

Widow Li was silent for a moment, then squatted down to look him in the eye: "Because Uncle Chen is very dedicated."

"Can you grow plants this well just by putting in the effort?"

"Mmm." She patted her son's head. "If you put your heart into something, you can do it well."

"Then I'll try my best too," the son said earnestly. "If I eat carefully, will I grow taller?"

Widow Li smiled, a genuine smile: "Yes."

She picked up her son and walked back to the edge of the field.

Footsteps approached from afar. She looked up and saw a familiar figure emerge from the morning mist—a blue cloth shirt with frayed cuffs, carrying a spirit hoe on his shoulder.

It's Chen Yuan.

He came home earlier than usual today.

"Uncle Chen!" Her son squirmed in her arms.

Chen Yuan approached, a smile on his face.

He pulled a small paper packet from his pocket and handed it to his son: "Osmanthus candy, bought at the market yesterday."

The son happily took it, tore open the paper package, stuffed a piece into his mouth, and exclaimed with bulging cheeks, "Sweet!"

Chen Yuan looked at Widow Li: "Sister Li, is everything alright in the fields?"

"It's alright," Widow Li said, putting her son down. "They're both very good-looking."

Chen Yuan walked to the edge of the field, squatted down, pressed his fingers on the soil, and closed his eyes to sense it for a while. Then he opened his eyes and nodded: "The spiritual energy is very stable. Thank you for your hard work, Sister Li."

"It's my duty." Widow Li paused, "Regarding the injury on your arm..."

"All done." Chen Yuan flexed his left arm. "The medicine Master Su gave me is good; it didn't leave a scar."

The two remained silent for a while.

My son chased butterflies on the edge of the field, his giggles carrying far in the morning breeze.

"Sister Li," Chen Yuan suddenly spoke, "Recently... have any strangers come to ask me anything?"

Widow Li's heart tightened, but her face remained calm: "Yes. Third Sister Liu sent people to inquire twice, and I told her you were still in the Medicine Valley and wouldn't be back for a while."

"She believed it?"

"It's hard to say," Widow Li said, looking into the distance. "Those women, like Liu San Niang, are very suspicious. But Xiong Kui shielded me, so she hasn't investigated further for now."

Chen Yuan frowned: "Xiong Kui?"

"The deputy captain of the market guard," Widow Li said casually. "He occasionally comes to my place for a drink, and I ask him to look after me."

Chen Yuan looked at her, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping himself.

"Don't worry." Widow Li turned her head to meet his gaze. "I know what I'm doing. I won't say a single thing that I shouldn't."

Chen Yuan remained silent for a long time.

The son ran back, tugging at Chen Yuan's clothes: "Uncle Chen, the candy is all gone."

Chen Yuan smiled and took out another piece: "This is the last one. Rinse your mouth after you finish eating."

"Um!"

The son took the candy, ran back to Widow Li's side, and looked up at her, saying, "Mother, you have some too."

Widow Li bent down and took a small bite from her son's hand: "Sweet."

The son smiled happily.

Seeing this, Chen Yuan suddenly said, "Sister Li, once I've established myself in the sect, perhaps... I can find a way to test the child's spiritual root."

Widow Li was startled.

She looked up at Chen Yuan, her lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Of course, it's still early," Chen Yuan continued. "I'm just a nominal outer disciple, so I don't have much say. But what if... what if the child has spiritual roots? We can't let them be buried in this shantytown."

Widow Li's eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

She turned her face away, took a deep breath, and when she turned back, her face was calm again: "Brother Chen, those words are too harsh."

"It's not heavy," Chen Yuan said earnestly. "You helped me before, I remember."

A rooster crowed in the distance; it was the fourth crow.

Chen Yuan looked up at the sky: "I have to go, there's morning class at Medicine Valley today."

"Be careful on the road."

Chen Yuan nodded, patted his son's head again, and turned to walk into the morning mist.

Watching his father's departing figure, the son whispered, "Mom, is Uncle Chen going to become a god?"

Widow Li knelt down and hugged him tightly: "Uncle Chen... is trying not to be an ordinary person."

"Then I want to work hard too."

"Okay," Widow Li said softly, "Let's work together."

---

At noon, Widow Li took her son to the market.

The basket contained half a basket of lamb's quarters and a few yams. Her son tugged at her clothes, his eyes darting around curiously—he loved coming to the market, loved looking at the colorful talismans, and loved smelling the medicinal aroma wafting from the pharmacy shops.

"Lady Li!"

Aunt Wu from the tea stall called her again.

Widow Li walked over with her son, and Aunt Wu immediately stuffed a piece of rice cake into the child's hand: "Oh, the little guy has grown taller again! Here, have some cake."

The son glanced at Widow Li, and seeing her nod, he took the rice cake and whispered, "Thank you, Grandma Wu."

"Good girl!" Aunt Wu grinned from ear to ear, then turned and lowered her voice, "Mrs. Li, I heard Xiong Kui came to see you again yesterday?"

Widow Li remained expressionless: "Yes, come and get the things you left behind last time."

"Tsk tsk, things have been quite lively here lately." Aunt Wu's eyes were suggestive. "First, that kid Chen Yuan rose to prominence, and then someone with real power like Xiong Kui started coming and going frequently—Li Niangzi, is your luck about to change?"

"Aunt Wu is joking," Widow Li replied casually. "We're all neighbors, just looking out for each other."

"Yes, yes, we'll look out for each other." Aunt Wu leaned closer. "But I must warn you, Liu San Niang is keeping a close eye on things. Be careful, don't let her catch you doing anything wrong."

"Okay, thank you, Aunt Wu."

Widow Li led her son away from the tea stall, weaving through the crowded streets. When they reached the entrance of a small alley, she stopped and looked back.

Deep in the alley, a man in gray stood against the wall, looking this way.

Seeing her turn around, the man immediately turned and disappeared around the corner of the alley.

Widow Li's heart sank.

She knew that he was one of Liu San Niang's people.

---

In the evening, Widow Li was hanging clothes out to dry in the yard.

The son squatted by the well, playing with pebbles, throwing them into the well one by one, and giggling as he listened to the "plop" sounds.

"Ping An, stop playing," Widow Li called to him. "Come wash your hands; it's time to eat."

Her son's nickname is Ping An (Peace), which she chose for him. She didn't ask for great wealth or status, only that he grow up peacefully and safely.

Ping An ran over and stretched out his dirty little hands. Widow Li scooped water to wash them for him, her movements very gentle.

"Mom," Ping An looked up, "Grandma Wu said today that Uncle Chen has risen to a higher social status—what does that mean?"

Widow Li paused, then said, "It means... Uncle Chen has made something of himself."

"What about Uncle Bear?" Ping An asked again. "Is he successful too?"

Widow Li was silent for a while before saying, "Uncle Xiong... is someone who can protect us."

"Protect us?" Ping An blinked. "Is someone going to bully us?"

Widow Li dried his hands, squatted down to look him in the eye, and said, "Ping An, let me ask you—if one day someone tries to bully us, what will you do?"

Ping An thought about it carefully: "I'll tell Uncle Chen!"

"What if Uncle Chen isn't here?"

"Then I'll tell Uncle Bear!"

"What if Uncle Bear isn't here either?"

Ping An froze, his little face scrunched up. After thinking for a long time, he whispered, "Then... I'll stand in front of Mom."

Widow Li felt a lump in her throat.

She hugged her son tightly and buried her face in his small shoulder.

"Peace," her voice was a little hoarse, "you must remember—in this world, the only one who can protect you forever is yourself."

Ping An seemed to understand but not quite: "Like Uncle Chen?"

"Yes." Widow Li released him, looked into his eyes, "Just like Uncle Chen, become stronger on your own."

Ping An nodded vigorously: "Yes! I want to become stronger to protect Mom!"

Widow Li smiled and patted his head: "Okay."

Dinner was a simple bowl of thin porridge and pickled vegetables. Ping An ate with gusto, finishing one bowl and asking for another. Watching him wolf down his food, Widow Li's unease slowly subsided.

As long as the child is okay, she can handle anything else.

---

Late at night.

She fell asleep peacefully, her little hand clutching the hem of her clothes, just like when she was little.

Widow Li stared at the roof with her eyes open.

Footsteps sounded outside the window, very soft, but exceptionally clear in the quiet night. The footsteps stopped at the door, followed by three knocks—a pause—and then two more.

She gently pulled back the hem of her dress, got out of bed, took the short blade from her bosom, and held it in her hand.

He walked to the door but didn't open it: "Who is it?"

"It's me." It was Xiong Kui's voice.

Widow Li pulled open the door latch.

Xiong Kui slipped in and closed the door behind him. He had a fresh wound on his face, running from his cheekbone to his chin; the blood had clotted, but the wound was deep.

"What's going on?" Widow Li frowned.

"Liu San Niang's people." Xiong Kui sat down at the table, poured himself a bowl of water, and said, "They ambushed me at the west end of the market this afternoon, asking me what our relationship was."

Widow Li rummaged through the cupboard and found some medicine and strips of cloth. She came over and treated his wounds: "What did you say?"

"I said, you're my lover." Xiong Kui grinned, pulling at his wound and wincing in pain. "What, is that not allowed?"

Widow Li didn't reply; she simply cleaned the wound carefully, applied medicine, and bandaged it. Her movements were practiced, as if she had done it many times before.

"They won't believe it," she said softly.

"I know," Xiong Kui said, looking at her. "But at least there's some explanation. No matter how ruthless Liu San Niang is, she wouldn't dare to openly touch my people—the deputy captain of the guard team is still somewhat useful."

Widow Li finished bandaging her wound and packed her medicine box: "What exactly is she trying to do?"

"Find Chen Yuan," Xiong Kui said. "That blood ginseng that kid planted when he was in the shantytown, Liu San Niang has always been thinking about it. Now that he's entered the Flying Feather Sect, the ginseng is gone. Liu San Niang suspects he took the ginseng with him, or hid it nearby."

Widow Li paused, her hand still: "She suspects me?"

"Suspect everyone connected to Chen Yuan." Xiong Kui looked at her. "Li Niang, you have to be careful. Liu San Niang is ruthless; she'll stop at nothing to achieve her goals. If she really has her eye on you..."

He didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was clear.

Widow Li remained silent for a long time.

Then she looked up at Xiong Kui: "If...if something really happens to me, please be safe..."

"Don't worry," Xiong Kui interrupted her, "I'll take care of your son."

Two words, spoken with absolute certainty.

Widow Li's eyes welled up with tears again.

She turned her face away, took a deep breath, and asked, "Xiong Kui, why are you helping me?"

Xiong Kui laughed, a rough laugh: "Three years ago, on that rainy night, when you dragged me home, I was covered in blood, and your son was only a few months old, tied to your back with a cloth strip. You were stopping my bleeding while coaxing him to sleep—at that time, I thought, this woman is fucking ruthless."

He paused, then lowered his voice:

"A woman who's ruthless to herself but still has a bit of kindness for others. I have to protect that kind of woman."

Widow Li remained silent.

She simply walked to the window, opened it a crack, and looked out.

The courtyard was empty, and the well rim gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

In the distance, the lights in the shantytown went out one by one, like stars swallowed by the night.

"Xiong Kui," she suddenly spoke, "If one day Chen Yuan really gains a foothold and can lead Ping An out of this shantytown... would you be willing to come with me?"

Xiong Kui was stunned.

He stared at her backlit profile for a long time before finally saying in a hoarse voice, "Where could a rough man like me go?"

"Anywhere is fine with me." Widow Li turned around, her eyes serious. "Leave here and start over."

Xiong Kui remained silent.

Then he stood up, walked over to her, reached out, and took her hand. His hands were large and rough, his palms covered in calluses, but his grip was very firm.

"Li Niang," he said, "wherever you go, I'll follow."

Widow Li stared at him for a long time.

Then she withdrew her hand, walked to the bedside, took out the small cloth bag containing spirit stones from under the pillow, poured out ten stones, and handed them to Xiong Kui: "Take these. Treasure the people below and tell them not to keep too close an eye on Liu San Niang."

Xiong Kui didn't take it: "Keep it for yourself, the child needs it."

"I have more," Widow Li insisted, pressing the money into his hand. "It's from Chen Yuan, enough for you."

Xiong Kui then accepted the gift and tucked it into his pocket, saying, "Then I'll be going now; I have to patrol the night tomorrow."

"Be careful on the road."

Xiong Kui walked to the door, then turned back: "Li Niang."

"Um?"

"That Chen Yuan..." Xiong Kui paused, "...did he... you know anything about you?"

"No," Widow Li interrupted him. "He looks at me like I'm a neighbor in need of help. That's all."

Xiong Kui nodded, said nothing more, and went out.

Widow Li closed the door, bolted it, and stood with her back against the door for a long time.

Then she went to the bedside and looked at her sleeping son.

Ping An was sleeping soundly, her little face rosy and a smile on her lips, probably dreaming of eating candy.

Widow Li bent down and gently kissed his forehead.

"Peace," she whispered, "Mother will... will definitely get you out of here."

Outside the window, the fifth rooster crowed.

It's almost dawn.

A new day is about to begin.

And she has to keep going.

For his son.

And also for that faint light, which we may never be able to grasp.