“Birthday, huh?”
Haisha Lakir scanned Aksai with his mongoose-like eyes from head to toe a couple of times before shaking his head, his voice carrying a dramatic disappointment in the younger generation.
“I told you when I let you rent the Advanced Greenwood Tantra for a few minutes, that merely observing the technique once wouldn’t lead to progress. Do you think you are some kind of heaven-defying genius?
Yet, you didn’t listen. You not only lost your spirit stones but also stalled in your cultivation.
Luckily, the rental agreement between a Spirit farmer and the Lakir family can be inherited by the farmer’s descendants. Otherwise, you would have nothing to rely on by now. Your whims might get you in big trouble one day, boy.”
Haisha Lakir remarked before tossing a closed sack towards Aksai.
“Here, that’s your annual earnings after we weighed your produce yesterday. Check to see if anything’s missing.” Haisha said and looked at Aksai as if he was issuing a challenge.
Aksai didn’t need to open the sack to confirm its contents. The weight alone conveyed that it held only 20 spirit stones. It was evident that Haisha had retained approximately 10 spirit stones as an “informal commission.”
Yet, what recourse did Aksai have? Lodge a complaint?
“Everything is in order, Uncle Haisha. Thank you for your visit and hard work,” Aksai expressed, bowing once more and placing his right hand over his chest in a gesture of farewell.
“Hahaha. Just as I expected,” Haisha laughed, tossing an additional spirit stone.
“Consider this my birthday gift to you. Don’t squander it on chasing skirts, boy. You have a farm to tend to,” he advised before kicking the base of the flying boat.
In the blink of an eye, the vessel ascended into the sky, carrying Haisha Lakir to the next Spirit farmer destined to be exploited by him.
‘This mongoose bastard,’ Aksai gritted his teeth, suppressing his discontent as he gazed at the sky.
‘Don’t let me catch you in an unknown alley someday. Otherwise, I’ll plow your *ss with my iron rod. Um… wait, that came out wrong. Ne– never mind.’
The young and exploited farmer trailed off under his breath, heading back inside his farmhouse. There was something he needed to attend to before commencing his daily farming tasks.
***
Aksai entered his farmhouse and retrieved an old oil painting hanging on the wall. The book-sized artwork was securely encased behind glass within an unknown wooden frame adorned with mysterious patterns.
The oil painting portrayed a tranquil farmhouse situated amidst a lush, verdant farm teeming with crops. Towering ancient trees formed a natural perimeter around the property.
A slight blur added an ethereal quality to the painting as if the depicted scenery was veiled in smoke. From a distance, it seemed like any other artwork, but Aksai noticed something distinct about it only when he examined it up close and sensed it with his Spiritual Sense.
“My old man mentioned that I needed to reach the 7th stage of the Spirit Refining realm to unlock the potential of this family treasure, whatever it may be,” Aksai mused, stroking his chin.
“He struggled all his life but couldn’t surpass the bottleneck of the 6th stage. Even his father and grandfather faced a similar fate, succumbing before achieving a breakthrough in the 7th stage, preventing them from ever utilizing this painting.
More importantly, my father never disclosed the secret of the painting, perhaps because he, too, was unaware of it. If my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather couldn’t harness the family heirloom, then this painting has been awaiting a rightful owner for centuries. I can only speculate that breaking into the 7th stage of Spirit Refining is somehow linked to using Spirit Sense through physical contact,” Aksai concluded.
Aksai was confident in his assumption but refrained from immediately utilizing his Spirit Sense.
The morning had a list of pending tasks for him: processing herbs for the weekly market, watering plants, maintaining Array Formations across the farmland, and purchasing new plant seeds from nearby Spirit plant shops.
Aksai wanted to avoid disturbances from neighbors or unknown visitors while unraveling the mysteries of the Everwood family heirloom. Thus, he decided to wait until nightfall before investigating the painting.
Gently placing the oil painting back in its original position, Aksai resumed his routine. In the afternoon, Aunt Reta paid him a visit with her son, engaging in a pleasant conversation.
Aunt Reta, a middle-aged woman in her 50s, was a 5th-stage Spirit Refiner who had devoted her life to farming. Her husband passed away shortly after their son’s birth, coincidentally around the same time as Aksai’s father. Both had ventured into the cultivation world outside the Spirit fiends seeking opportunities for advancement but met unfortunate ends, dying within the same year.
Aunt Reta had taken care of Aksai’s father’s funeral arrangements, fostering a close connection between the two families. Consequently, Aksai welcomed Aunt Reta’s visits and often reciprocated by providing her with various forms of alchemy items he often concocted in his past time.
To celebrate Aksai’s birthday, Aunt Reta brought homemade dishes and gifted him rare plant seeds, intending to aid his progress toward becoming a 5th-stage Spirit Refiner.
Though appreciative, Aksai inwardly smiled at the irony of receiving such a gift. Since reaching the 7th stage, these plant seeds were of no use to him. Yet, he held no resentment towards Aunt Reta’s thoughtful gesture.
After all, who told him to act paranoid and hide his cultivation base from everyone?
Deciding to grow the Spirit herbs and preserve them for Aunt Reta’s son’s future use, Aksai completed his daily chores by evening. While farm life brought joy, it demanded considerable effort.
By evening, Aksai had sorted out all his daily affairs.
Farm life, while enjoyable, was demanding for Spirit farmers like him. Therefore, Aksai frequently took baths in the evening to rid his body of accumulated grime.
Unlike a foundation-building expert, he couldn’t employ Spirit essence to instantly eliminate all impurities and feel refreshed. By mortal standards, Aksai was merely considered supernatural.
As night descended, a serene calm enveloped the entire region. The moon and stars adorned the night sky, casting it in silvery hues. The distant symphony of crickets and frogs added a natural melody. The chilly winds, characteristic of the night, swirled around, and the Spirit energy in the surroundings mirrored the tranquility of a deep sea.
Under the soft glow of an earthen lamp, Aksai assumed a cross-legged position on a rattan mattress. His gaze fixated on the painting for an extended moment.
“It’s time,” Aksai declared, rubbing his hands together. Lifting the painting with both hands, he closed his eyes and directed his Spirit Sense into the artwork.
In the ensuing moment, something peculiar occurred. Aksai seemingly vanished into thin air, as if he had never been present to begin with.
