Xiao Fei, having eaten his fill of the millet, felt a slight distension in his stomach and lay on the grass pile to digest.
Since he was bored lying down, he decided to take out the "Chang Chun Gong" and casually read it.
This cultivation technique, compared to the Nine Yin True Scripture and the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms he had secretly practiced in his previous life, was written in a more fantastical and immortal-heroic style.
Cultivating this technique required meditation to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, which was then refined into magic power within the body.
The book stated that magic power circulating through the body's meridians could nourish the flesh, strengthen the body, prolong life, and prevent all diseases.
By circulating the magic power through a special method, one could also cast spells.
The book recorded a total of four spells: Talisman Art, Great Strength Art, Light Body Art, and Fireball Art.
It all seemed quite fantastical, and he wasn't sure if it would work.
Xiao Fei preferred to believe it might be true. After all, he had experienced transmigration, so anything else happening wouldn't be surprising.
He wondered how many levels the "Chang Chun Gong" had. This book only had four levels; the rest had been torn off by the old man.
This was why education was important.
Xiao Fei lay in the grass pile for a long time, reading the first level of the cultivation technique repeatedly, trying to understand every word.
The writing was too obscure and difficult to comprehend. He spent half a day just on the first paragraph of the first level.
By this time, his stomach was empty, and he couldn't eat the cultivation manual for sustenance.
The land in his space had not yet been planted, and the harvested grain still needed further processing.
He once again took his wood-cutting knife and entered the space, turning over the soil.
The wild vegetables like shepherd's purse that he had previously planted in the space were all dug up, clearing the area. Now that he had grain, who would eat these things?
Only the fern roots had not yet reached the harvesting season, so they were temporarily left there.
Turning the soil with a wood-cutting knife was already difficult, and since he was merely a phantom formed by consciousness in the space, the task of tilling the land was even more arduous.
Xiao Fei mused that once he had some surplus grain, the first thing he would buy was a good hoe.
This harvest yielded enough grain. He used nearly 20 catties of seeds to plant one mu of wheat and one mu of rice.
There was still some empty land left. Xiao Fei exchanged some rice for a few catties of soybean seeds in Qingyang Town and planted half a mu of soybeans.
By now, Xiao Fei had finally achieved a comfortable life where he didn't have to worry about food and drink. After enduring for a while longer and saving some money, he could go find his second sister.
He had food and drink, but he didn't know where his second sister was suffering. Every time he thought of this, his heart ached.
During this period, he didn't go out at all. He closed his door and hid in the thatched shed, cultivating the "Chang Chun Gong." When he was hungry, he would cook some rice in a clay pot.
The rice and wheat grown in his space were slightly larger and tasted sweeter than those from the fields outside.
After each meal, he felt full of energy and invigorated. With nowhere to channel his excess energy, he would try to cultivate the "Chang Chun Gong," as he was idle anyway.
After two months of this, his cultivation of the "Chang Chun Gong" showed no significant progress.
He felt nothing of what the book described as sensing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and drawing it into his body.
Let alone the more profound and miraculous magic power, there was nothing in his stomach besides the rice he had eaten.
The only difference he felt was that his physique had become stronger, and he had grown a bit taller.
When he first transmigrated, he would get out of breath after doing ten push-ups. Now, he could easily do a hundred, even with one hand.
His running, jumping, and explosive power, and all other physical qualities, had improved significantly.
Regarding this, Xiao Fei was more inclined to believe in the miraculous properties of the food from his space.
Perhaps this "Chang Chun Gong" was similar to the "Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms" he had bought from "Story Meeting" books in his previous life.
It required decades of patient hard work to achieve results, and most people would never succeed in a lifetime.
"Alas! It seems I'm truly not the martial arts prodigy born once every three thousand years."
Xiao Fei sighed to himself and put the "Chang Chun Gong" back into his space.
In reality, he was just indulging in wishful thinking; he hadn't held out much hope to begin with.
He was mainly bored. After eating his fill every day with nothing to do, no phone, and no girlfriend, cultivating the "Chang Chun Gong" was the only way to pass the time.
Although Xiao Fei had made no progress in his cultivation, over these two months, his three mu of land in the space had yielded four harvests of grain.
He had cleared a piece of empty land in his space, laid down a thick layer of dry grass, and piled three large mounds of grain on top of the dry grass.
Rice, wheat, and soybeans, totaling about 4000 catties.
In this world, grain was a hard currency, often more sought after than copper coins.
Xiao Fei still owed Renshengtang 500 wen. Now that he had grain, he had to repay his debt.
He walked out of the refugee camp alone. It was the season of lush growth outside.
However, most people were still in dire straits and had no time to appreciate the beauty before them. People were still starving to death in the refugee camp every day.
This was the season between harvests, and the limited wild vegetable resources in the fields could only sustain a few people.
Even many local tenant farmers were struggling, needing to sell their children, and a considerable number were starving to death.
Although tenant farmers could cultivate the land, the rent was very high. Most of the annual harvest had to be handed over to the landlord, leaving them with very little grain to keep.
During this period, people often fought over a mouthful of food, leading to many homicides.
As Xiao Fei walked out of the refugee camp, he didn't know that a pair of eyes had quietly fixed on him from behind.
Qingyang Town was as bustling as ever, especially the area in the market specifically for selling people, which was even more lively.
For many human traffickers, this was a season of harvest. They would pick and choose from the crowds of sallow-faced people, desperately driving down prices.
Xiao Fei felt sympathy for this scene but was powerless to help; he could barely protect himself.
First, he inquired about grain prices in the market and found that they had risen considerably again.
When he bought seeds before, grain was 20 wen per catty. Now, rice had risen to 35 wen, and even acorns with shells and wild grass seeds were selling for 10 wen per catty.
This was actually a pattern that repeated every year.
When the grain harvest season arrived, some grain merchants and landlords would collude to suppress prices, often driving them down to below 10 wen.
Taking advantage of the low prices, these grain merchants would purchase large quantities of grain and hoard it.
When winter arrived, they would start pushing up grain prices, and by the season between harvests, the prices would have reached their peak.
The reason grain merchants and landlords could operate this way was not that the tenant farmers were stupid, but that they were forced to.
Large grain merchants and landlords possessed various resources and had many ways to make farmers sell their grain during the harvest season. Those few who could keep their grain would not be many and would not affect the overall situation.
Xiao Fei spent a large sum of money, exchanging grain for a sack. There was no industry in this world, so the cost of making a sack was very high, costing him ten catties of wheat.
He filled a sack with rice from his space, estimating it to be around 50 catties. At the current market price, it was worth over 1000 wen.
A drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. He didn't want to mistreat those who had helped him.
He found a secluded spot, took the sack out of his space, slung it over his shoulder, and strode towards Renshengtang.
He had considered selling the grain first and repaying the debt with money, but it was best not to flaunt wealth. In a time when people would kill for a mouthful of food, selling so much grain in the market might be more dangerous than selling wolf pelts last time.
Carrying a large bag of grain into Renshengtang, he saw Doctor Huang treating a patient. Xiao Fei placed the grain aside and waited patiently.
The patient was dressed luxuriously, plump and fair-skinned, with dark circles under his eyes. He was breathing heavily even while sitting still.
Listening to his account, it seemed he had been overworking day and night. Now his waist was sore, his legs were weak, his feet were cramping, he had to lean against walls when walking, and he experienced blood in his urine when urinating.
"Your condition is due to chronic fatigue. You need to rest."
"Alas! I wish I could rest properly, but my thirteen beautiful wives and concubines are all like wolves and tigers, leaving me no peace at night."
The patient sighed deeply, expressing his marital bliss troubles.
"You still can't let go. My Huang family has owned five hundred mu of land for generations. Two oxen died from exhaustion a few years ago.
Later, I simply leased it all out to others to cultivate for me, and I still receive some interest each year, which keeps me relaxed and at ease."
Doctor Huang saw the corners of the patient's mouth twitch, as if he wanted to retort, and immediately returned to the main topic.
"Your condition of chronic fatigue is severe. If it continues, it may shorten your lifespan, and your accumulated property will then be given away to others for free."
"Then what should I do? My youngest concubine is only 15 years old, and my eldest son is only eight."
This man was clearly frightened by Doctor Huang. He thought about how he hadn't enjoyed himself enough yet, his children were still young, and if he died, who knew who would benefit.
Xiao Fei listened to their conversation and realized that Doctor Huang was quite good at scaring people. He guessed that the patient would have to pay a hefty sum soon.
"Ordinary remedies are no longer effective for your condition."
Doctor Huang paused, stroked his beard, and continued.
"However, I have a piece of old ginseng here that can strengthen the foundation and greatly replenish vital energy. It's just a bit expensive, I wonder if you are reluctant to use it?"
"I'm willing! I'm willing!"
The patient nodded repeatedly. If he was reluctant now, everything would go to others anyway.
Doctor Huang immediately wrote a prescription, including a piece of old ginseng, and charged ten taels of silver.
The patient, supported by a maid, left shakily, carrying a large pile of medicinal herbs.