19: Dad, we're about to meet.

Initially, because of the reputation of being a “great filial son,” he wasn't very optimistic about Jiang Hanwen.

After all this time, only this child in front of him remained consistent, neither becoming arrogant due to his care nor harboring resentment due to his punishments.

From beginning to end, he always stuck to his duties.

Whether it was his attitude towards him or towards the land, it never changed.

Don't discard the heart of a child to seek cleverness or pursue wealth.

Back then, didn’t he and his wife toil and suffer all the way, starting from scratch?

How did it change when it came to him, choosing not to acknowledge it?

Du Qingfu thought a lot, and unknowingly, he became the person he once most despised—his wife’s father… Forty bloodline grasses, plus three qi gathering grasses and two gray Poria cocos that Du Qingfu additionally gave him—this was Jiang Hanwen’s harvest.

bloodline grass would be his main cultivation target for a long time to come.

As for the others, they were Jiang Hanwen’s experimental subjects.

However, including the handwritten notes on “Mang Fist” and the bloodline grass, none of these were the most important.

The most important thing was the medicine token in Jiang Hanwen’s hand, which confirmed, starting today, that his direct superior was Du Qingfu.

Any deacon wanting to manipulate him, like the extortion incident a few months ago, would be impossible.

Jiang Hanwen walked out of the Council Hall, and in the flat wilderness, this spacious courtyard now seemed isolated.

Du Qingfu was devoted, not remarrying for fifty years, now in contrast to Zhuang Bai, who took a concubine in just one month.

Presumably, this old father is regretting it now.

After all, although there were two candidates at the time, Du Qingfu chose to tacitly approve Zhuang Bai’s transgression.

From that moment on, the outcome was actually already destined; the final marriage was merely a matter of time.

In this life, yesterday cannot be chased; what use is even the most profound regret?

Late affection, even a dog wouldn’t want it.

Alas… In the days to come, Jiang Hanwen and Du Qingfu would meet once every three months, and the rest of the time, he was left to his own devices.

Jiang Hanwen studied by himself, researched by himself, and conducted experiments by himself.

Gong Qing no longer came to the Medicine Field, there were no meat buns in the Council Hall, even steamed buns disappeared, and everything returned to calm.

With no one disturbing him, Jiang Hanwen could be said to have made rapid progress.

In his mind, a systematic knowledge structure for a Spiritual Plant cultivator was quietly being built.

All the books on the second floor served as flesh and blood, supplementing this large tree, acting as its substance.

Most notably, the bloodline grass, which previously required constant attention, and he would worry about its maturation time being extended if it wasn't watered with blood water for a day.

But now, Jiang Hanwen even went two days without watering it with blood water, almost letting it grow wild.

The result was that the more he did this, the higher the survival rate of the bloodline grass, reaching an astonishing 90% in just two years, and every single plant that survived had full leaves and clear bloodlines.

The figures were too astounding; even to Du Qingfu, Jiang Hanwen didn’t dare to tell the truth, only daring to keep it around 80% each time, eating the excess.

Even so, Du Qingfu still told him that he could already dabble in other Spiritual Plants, and even the precious eclipse moon flower.

Under the nourishment of the bloodline grass, Jiang Hanwen reached the Second Layer of Mortal Transformation.

When others Break through, they can’t wait to consume Spirit Pills and medicines and Cultivate diligently.

He, on the other hand, had too thick a Foundation; the second layer was a natural Breakthrough upon Awakening, making him even wonder if he was still dreaming.

In these two years, his biggest gains were two points.

First, an Epiphany in planting.

It was the third afternoon after the beginning of autumn; when he returned from the Council Hall, he saw two weeds in the corner of the wall, one withered and almost dead;

One was vibrant green, bursting with Life Qi.

Both were in a shallow bit of soil on a rock, with the same lack of moisture.

The difference between the two weeds was that one could get sunlight, and the other could not.

At first glance, it seemed that sunlight affected the weeds.

But a deeper investigation revealed another explanation.

It was the “nature” of the weeds needing sunlight that determined their growth differences.

If both did not need sunlight, then the amount of sunlight would likely not cause much difference between the two weeds.

Taking a line from the Dao De Jing, “Man follows the Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows nature.”

What is nature?

“Zi” means one’s true self, one’s own nature, the ultimate root of oneself.

“Ran” is a noun, used to assist the character “Zi,” translated as “appearance.”

Combined, “Ziran” (nature) refers to the purest original state, stripped of complex and extraneous packaging.

For example, a painter can simultaneously hold many identities: student, teacher, father, son, husband, etc.

But if all of these are dissected, according to cultural definition, a painter is a human, an animal; this is their original form.

Grasping their animal essence, cultural attributes, and social attributes, one then ascends step by step, putting on clothes.

Controlling it is merely going with the flow, effortless.

In terms of planting, it can be summarized in four words: follow its nature.

Since bloodline grass can grow in the wild, why is it so delicate, like a princess, when cultivated by humans?

It’s simply that the cultivator hasn’t figured out its “nature,” and thus treats it mechanically.

Second, Jiang Hanwen’s Zhuangli Fist reached a proficient level, forming instinctive muscle memory, allowing him to punch as naturally and skillfully as breathing.

Although Du Qingfu gave him the better “Mang Fist,” Jiang Hanwen did not begin to Cultivate it, but instead stubbornly focused on Zhuangli Fist.

It’s not about knowing a thousand moves, but about mastering one.

Only children make choices; adults, of course, want both.

My old man has achieved longevity, so why can’t I master a thousand moves?

Through the accumulation of practice, Jiang Hanwen performed Zhuangli Fist with extreme fluidity; although he had never fought anyone and had zero combat experience, if he were to face someone of the same realm, he would not be afraid!

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh~”

Night, the evening wind rustled across the land.

A layer of hazy silver gauze, like clouds and Qi, gently covered the earth.

In the vast wilderness, a few small houses glowed with sparse lights.

Before long, most of the lights were extinguished, with only one still burning, which was abrupt and lonely in the moonlit night.

Under the orange-yellow lamplight, a shadow completely sprawled on the ground could be seen.

Jiang Hanwen, like a child, lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on the muddy surface in front of him.

A quarter of an hour, two quarters of an hour, time slowly flowed by.

As dawn approached, the sound of crickets quieted by thirty percent, the rustling of leaves ceased, and silence fell all around.

Could it be, not again?

Jiang Hanwen pouted, helpless, but not disheartened.

Each experiment, though, brought him one step closer to the truth.

But over these past two years, he had failed over a hundred times, and he was somewhat tired; he yearned for success to bring his father over.

How about it?

Jiang Hanwen looked up at the sky, “Buddy, how about I trade ten years of being single for one success?”

Still no movement in the soil; supporting himself with his hands, Jiang Hanwen sighed, just about to get up.

Suddenly, a tender sprout with a pale green hue emerged from the oily black soil.

Hmm?

Thump~ Thump~

Jiang Hanwen’s heart involuntarily sped up.

An indescribable ecstasy filled his heart.

It really worked!

Visibly, the tender sprout beneath the soil continued to grow, and in just a hundred breaths, it had extended two inches of leaf.

It wasn’t until dawn, with the leaves growing normally, that Jiang Hanwen finally fell into a deep sleep.

Waking up at noon, his grafted seedling had already grown half a foot, growing with the wind at a speed that could be called a miracle.

A month later, the seedling was a full meter tall and had bloomed with pale yellow flowers.

Jiang Hanwen collected and sealed theSui Sui seeds from the center of the flowers.

He quickly chopped off the tree’s roots, grabbed the section near the mud, and pulled it upwards; a dozen fist-sized gray fruits, like radishes, hung from it.

Looking at the soil around the gray fruits, its color was distinctly different, dry like sand, utterly devoid of Life Qi.

He crushed one of the fruits; “Squeak~ Squeak~”

The milky white juice flowed into a bowl; after stirring in three drops of blood with a bamboo whistle, he poured it onto the weakest-growing bloodline grass.

The sunlight shone, birds glided, and the gentle breeze served as a witness, together observing the progress of history’s wheel.

The wilted bloodline grass, like a man who had taken Viagra, instantly perked up, growing half an inch in width and length.

Both the theory and the practice were now fully closed-loop.

Jiang Hanwen glanced into the distance, a triumphant smile playing on his lips, and softly murmured:

“Old man, we’re about to meet.”