Her Cultivation Diary

The old family yard was quite spacious, the cement floor had already cracked. Despite the deep winter, a tiny purple pimpernel managed to poke through the fissure, tremblingly blooming a small purple flower in the cold wind.

Song Tan gazed at the flower, feeling that even this little wildflower seemed graceful and beautiful in a different environment.

Song Sancheng placed the luggage in the main room and hurriedly called out to his daughter:

"Tantan, it's cold outside, come in quickly and warm up by the fire."

As he spoke, he also rubbed his hands and feet: "Riding a motorcycle is really cold!"

Song Tan was slow to react, then realized—yes, riding in the winter was indeed very cold.

But she didn't feel it much.

She spread her hands and saw that her palms were as white and lustrous as jade; the desperate rush to repair her body in the car accident, to dodge the inevitable fate, had also tempered her body to some extent.

However, it was quite limited.

For example, at this moment, a gust of cold wind blew over, and Song Tan shivered uncontrollably. She was momentarily stunned, then quickly plunged into the house.

This was a small room for keeping warm.

It wasn't large, and in one corner by the window stood an iron stove with a flat iron plate on top. The chimney was long and bent at the ceiling, then extended towards a hole in another wall.

This way, the fierce flame in the stove raged, but the scorching smoke was drawn out of the house through the chimney. As soon as the fire was started, the entire room became warm and toasty, comparable to a heated room in the vast Northeast.

Song Sancheng had not seen his daughter for a long time—in big cities, the downside was few holidays and difficulty buying tickets during peak periods.

The last time he saw her was during the New Year.

But it was only a three-day holiday, and she went back to work overtime on the fourth day, working very hard.

His first child was such a daughter, and he always went along with whatever she said. Even after his son was born, the habit stayed the same.

At this moment, pondering what to say, he then reached out with his callous hands and took a baked sweet potato from the stove:

"Hungry or not? Have a sweet potato to fill you up!"

He didn't mind the heat, and now Song Tan didn't either. She reached out to take it: "Dad, you eat too."

"I'm not eating!" Song Sancheng immediately waved his hand: "When I was little, your grandma would make sweet potatoes for us every day. You can get heartburn if you eat too many, and it's no good."

Song Tan fell silent for a moment.

And Song Sancheng eventually found a topic: "How long are you staying at home this time?"

Song Tan opened her mouth. She was always direct and unyielding in the Cultivation World, but now, the words that came out weighed a ton.

"Dad, I resigned. I want to come back home and farm."

Song Sancheng fell silent immediately, and after a long while, he sighed: "Tantan, you don't know how hard farming is."

"You're a college graduate coming back to farm. I'm not afraid of being laughed at, but you really can't stand the hardship."

Implicitly, he was disapproving.

Song Tan was not in a hurry: "Dad, when I was young, I used to help with farming jobs like picking peanuts, breaking corn, harvesting tea leaves, watering the vegetable garden."

"That was just a few tasks!"

Song Sancheng pointed at the pesticide barrel stored in the opposite junk room: "You can't even carry that barrel!"

It was an old-fashioned blue plastic pesticide barrel, weighing about thirty pounds when filled with water, and it had to be carried on one's back while moving about to spray the fields.

But compared to digging in Tea Mountain, reaping rice, and planting seedlings, this was already a very light job.

Don't think that rural areas don't use pesticides; nowadays, pests have strong resistance to chemicals. If everyone else is spraying and you don't, then just wait for your grains and tea leaves to be devoured!

During the conversation, Wu Lan brought in a bowl of milky-white fish soup, its fragrance filling the air. Even though it had a slight taste of impurities, it was already much better than what she had tasted during the day.

"Tantan, drink more soup tonight. The crucian carp was caught by your dad from that wild pond; it's very nutritious. You should replenish yourself."

Turning her head to see the small bandage on her daughter's head, and after hearing that it was from a small accident, she was even more determined to serve her daughter an extra couple of bowls of soup that evening!

Wu Lan placed the basin on the iron surface of the stove to heat, and in a blink saw the sweet potato in Song Tan's hands:

"Tantan, don't eat the sweet potato now. This is our local white-heart sweet potato, starchy and choking. Save it for tonight, or you won't have an appetite for dinner later."

Without waiting for a response, she hurried back to the kitchen.

While Song Tan set the sweet potato aside and looked at Song Sancheng with a complex expression, she went over to the clutter and picked up the heavy blue medicine bucket, opened the faucet beside her, and filled it with water directly.

"Tantan!"

Song Sancheng followed her out—watching his daughter's effortless actions, he felt an inexplicable twinge of heartache.

His daughter had always been obedient and sensible, economizing on food and expenses. She was reluctant to spend money even when working outside, all for the sake of their home.

Now the child had come back with an injury on her head and said she had resigned; she must have been mistreated in Ning City... No wonder, every phone call she was working overtime, living in such a tiny room, how could she not suffer?

At this moment, Song Sancheng was wavering.

If the child wanted to come back and farm, let her farm. If it's really too hard, they could always find her a job in their city district later; at least it would be close to home.

Just as Song Sancheng was about to speak, he saw that the medicine bucket was full, and his "fragile" daughter was carrying it as easily as if it were a toy teddy bear.

In that moment, the fifty-eight-year-old authentic farmer Song Sancheng looked at his own rough hands, feeling a sense of bewilderment:

Why do I find that bucket so heavy?

Am I getting old?

…

Just then, a cheerful shout suddenly came from afar:

"Sister! Sister!"

Song Tan instinctively turned her head and saw a young boy in a black cotton vest running towards them from the road. He was quite tall, around one meter eighty, and slender. But his skin was fair, and there was a small dimple on his cheek. Now, smiling as he ran over, his entire being radiated joy:

"Sister!"

This was her younger brother, Song Qiao, eighteen years old in body, but… six in mind.

Wu Lan had given birth to him at forty, and as prenatal check-ups weren't customary in the countryside, he was born this way, forever with the mind of a six- or seven-year-old.

But he was well-behaved and sensible, and it was Song Tan who had raised him from a young age.

Until she left home for school and then stayed in Ning City...

Song Qiao stood in front of Song Tan, his eyes sparkling, looking up at her obediently like a little dog.

Song Tan stretched out her hand, and the boy obediently lowered his head for her to touch his cold face: "Qiaoqiao."

"Hmm!"

"I'm back to keep you company, okay?"

"Good!" he exclaimed loudly.

Then he hesitated as he looked at Song Sancheng: "But dad said, you have to earn money, it's tiring, and I can't cling to you."

Song Tan laughed and checked his hands to see if his fingernails were clean—they were well-kept, no digging in the mud during the cold winter.

"Earning money is too tiring; your sister doesn't want to earn it anymore. I came back to be with Qiaoqiao, to be with mom and dad, and all of us together. Is that okay?"

Song Qiao, not understanding the significance of one of the few college graduates in the village returning to farm, simply cheered:

"Yay!"

"Don't worry, sister! I can plant corn, I'll take care of you!"

This time, even Song Sancheng, who had always looked troubled, laughed:

"All you do is put corn kernels in the ground and then break them off the stalks. What do you know about farming corn!"