A Green Shoot In The Desert

By the time the Lac Van Tribe appeared again at the edge of the horizon, the day was already leaning toward evening.

The two Sa Beasts slowed along the sandy road, and the children playing near the edge of the settlement were the first to recognize the two guests who had left several days earlier.

One small figure immediately sprang to his feet and came racing toward them.

“Uncle Giai!”

Hao Nhien recognized Tieu Thach before he had even dismounted. The boy came running over, panting heavily, but the moment he arrived his gaze slipped straight past Hao Nhien and landed on the travel bag tied behind the saddle.

Hao Nhien looked at him for two breaths before asking,

“Did you run out here to welcome me, or to welcome the bread?”

Tieu Thach immediately lifted his head.

“To welcome Uncle Giai!”

He hesitated, then added honestly,

“And the bread.”

Quan Nha burst out laughing.

Hao Nhien could only shake his head. He took a paper-wrapped packet from the travel bag and tossed it down.

“Catch.”

Tieu Thach caught it. The moment he opened the packet and saw two sweet pastries covered in a thin layer of sugar, his eyes lit up.

“You really brought some!”

“I promised.”

Hao Nhien jumped down from the Sa Beast and pointed at the packet in the boy’s hands.

“But one is yours. The other goes to Old Madam Lac.”

The smile on Tieu Thach’s face immediately froze.

He looked down at the two pastries, then back at Hao Nhien. In the end, he gritted his teeth as though forced to make an unbearably difficult decision.

“Fine.”

Quan Nha lowered her face, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Hao Nhien pretended not to notice.

News of their return spread quickly through the tribe. Before long, Lac Thua arrived with Old Madam Lac and several people Hao Nhien had treated over the previous two days.

Hao Nhien had not brought anything particularly valuable. Aside from some cloth, salt, tea, needles and thread, and a few small wooden toys bought in the city, most of what they carried consisted of ordinary daily necessities.

Old Madam Lac held a new roll of cloth in her hands for a long moment before asking,

“This is for me?”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“Unless you expect me to wear it?”

Old Madam Lac stared at him for a moment, then laughed.

“Apothecary Giai even knows how to joke.”

Hao Nhien handed a pouch of tea to Lac Thua.

“This is yours.”

Lac Thua looked at the tea.

“I don’t drink expensive tea.”

“It isn’t expensive.”

Hao Nhien answered naturally.

“That’s why it suits you.”

Lac Thua shook his head, but accepted it anyway.

Quan Nha took out several small hair ties and distributed them among the girls standing nearby. Before long, the open ground in front of Lac Thua’s house was filled with more laughter than Hao Nhien had heard there several days earlier.

Only after the crowd thinned did he take out three bundles of dried medicinal herbs and a small box of seeds, placing them all on the table before Lac Thua.

“I found a buyer.”

Lac Thua’s eyes changed immediately.

“Heavenly Eye Medicine Pavilion?”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien placed Sa Diep, Xich Can, and Kho Diep in three separate piles.

“These three are not precious in the city, but the Pavilion uses a great deal of them. If the quality is consistent, the supply is stable, and the herbs are processed properly, they can purchase them over the long term.”

Lac Thua looked at the three medicinal herbs that were all too familiar to the people of Lac Van.

“But they already grow everywhere around here.”

“Exactly.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“The problem is that right now they grow wild. People only gather them when they need spirit stones. In good seasons they collect more, in poor seasons less. The quality varies, and no one can predict the supply, so merchant caravans can force the price as low as they like.”

Lac Thua slowly began to understand.

“You want to cultivate them?”

“I want to see whether something that already survives here can be turned into a crop that can be cultivated systematically.”

Hao Nhien said,

“There is no reason to force Lac Van’s soil to support spiritual herbs it was never suited to grow. First, we make proper use of what already lives here.”

Lac Thua was silent for a while before asking,

“How many people will you need?”

“Not many at first.”

Hao Nhien took out a pouch of spirit stones and placed it on the table.

“I’ll hire people and pay them by the day. Anyone who digs soil, carries water, makes clay jars, gathers dry grass, or learns how to process medicinal herbs will be paid. If people in the tribe want the work, they can register, but no one is to treat it as an obligation.”

Lac Thua looked at the pouch of spirit stones, then at him.

“You’re paying for it?”

“I’m testing a business.”

Hao Nhien smiled.

“Surely I’m not going to make other people work for free just so I can experiment.”

Lac Thua said nothing more and slowly nodded.

That very night, Hao Nhien entered the Cosmic Ark.

Tieu Lan still lay in the familiar room surrounded by gentle Wood spiritual qi. Her aura had not noticeably strengthened, but it remained stable, with no sign of deterioration.

Hao Nhien sat beside the bed for a while, checked her pulse, then told her a few things that had happened along the road.

He spoke about Heavenly Eye City, about Dai Ninh, about the counters filled with low-grade pills that were always crowded with buyers, and finally about how Tieu Thach had apparently remembered the bread more clearly than he remembered Hao Nhien.

At that, Hao Nhien smiled softly.

“I’m preparing to grow things again.”

He looked at Tieu Lan’s sleeping face.

“This time, not inside the Ark.”

There was no answer.

Hao Nhien sat there a while longer before standing and making his way to the area used for testing medicinal plants.

A portion of the propagation stock obtained from Heavenly Eye Medicine Pavilion had already been planted there. Within the dense Wood spiritual qi of the Cosmic Ark, Sa Diep, Xich Can, and Kho Diep all grew far more easily than they did outside.

But Hao Nhien was only using them to compare germination rates, root length, water requirements, and recovery after transplantation.

If all he wanted was medicinal material for pill refinement, he could simply continue growing everything inside the Ark.

But that would solve nothing for Lac Van.

The next morning, ten rough clay jars were arranged in a row north of the oasis.

Lac Lam stood with his arms crossed, staring at them. Beside him were Lac Thua and several people who had agreed to work for Hao Nhien. All of them had been paid that very morning, so even though no one understood what the ten jars were supposed to accomplish, at least no one felt they had been dragged into pointless labor.

In the end, Lac Lam could no longer hold back.

“Apothecary Giai, are we growing plants inside the jars?”

“No.”

“Then storing water?”

“Yes.”

Lac Lam looked at the lake not far away, then back at the large jars.

“Storing it here?”

“Bury them.”

Lac Thua coughed lightly.

“Apothecary Giai, I am an old man. Some things would be easier if you simply explained them.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

“Dig ten holes first.”

Half an hour later, all ten jars had been buried, leaving only their mouths protruding about a handspan above the ground. Hao Nhien had people fill them with water, cover them, then mark the soil around each jar.

On NovelPhoenix, the author publishes this chapter for readers. The copy displayed here was made without their approval.

He did not plant anything yet.

For the first step, everyone simply waited.

The next day, the water level inside the jars had dropped slightly.

Lac Lam crouched down and dug into the soil outside one jar. The surface remained dry, but not far below it, the sand had already begun to hold moisture.

He looked surprised.

“It really seeped through.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“The jars are unglazed. Fired clay has countless tiny pores, so the water seeps out slowly but continuously.”

Lac Thua examined the damp soil.

“So this wastes less water than pouring it over the surface?”

“That is exactly what I want to test.”

Hao Nhien scooped up a handful of sand.

“If water is poured directly onto the ground, some of it runs off and some evaporates before it ever reaches the roots. If we place the water beneath the surface, it moves more slowly, but more of it remains where the plants can actually use it.”

Only after confirming the moisture around the jars did Hao Nhien begin the first planting trial.

He did not dig up wild plants and move them directly into the field. Instead, he collected seeds from the healthiest Sa Diep, Xich Can, and Kho Diep around Lac Van, while also using some of the propagation stock brought from Heavenly Eye Medicine Pavilion for comparison.

The first small beds were planted around the jars.

The results after one week were not bad.

Sa Diep germinated best. Xich Can grew more slowly but developed strong roots, while Kho Diep suffered a higher mortality rate whenever the hot winds lasted too long.

Hao Nhien did not rush to expand.

He spent many afternoons beside the test plots, observing wind direction, the distance between each plant and the jars, and the moisture level in different layers of soil. One problem gradually became obvious: even though the buried jars saved more water, direct sowing over a large area still depended too heavily on location.

Seedlings close to the jars survived well. Those farther away often weakened during the earliest stage.

So Hao Nhien changed the method.

He selected a small piece of ground near the water source as a nursery area, built low windbreaks, buried the jars more densely, and spread a thin layer of dry grass over the soil to reduce moisture loss.

Lac Thua looked at the straw covering the beds.

“This is also to keep the water in?”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien replied.

“The soil doesn’t need protection from the sun, but the water inside it does.”

Lac Lam turned his face away.

Quan Nha, standing beside them, laughed.

The second trial was clearly better.

Sa Diep emerged in fairly even rows, Xich Can began forming stronger primary roots, and although Kho Diep remained the most difficult to maintain, its survival rate rose significantly.

Tieu Thach came to inspect the nursery every day.

On the eighth day, he crouched in front of a Kho Diep seedling and called,

“Uncle Giai.”

“What?”

“It still hasn’t died.”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

“Yes.”

“It didn’t die yesterday either.”

“I know.”

“And it didn’t die the day before that.”

Hao Nhien raised an eyebrow.

“What are you trying to say?”

Tieu Thach thought for a very long time before concluding with complete seriousness,

“It’s really good at being alive.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

But the adults standing behind him did not laugh immediately.

To them, these seedlings had always been things scattered across the wasteland. No one had ever imagined gathering them into neat beds and tending them as though they were truly something worth producing.

Hao Nhien still was not satisfied.

The nursery could improve survival rates, but the method still depended too much on experienced people adjusting distance, planting depth, and water levels by instinct.

One afternoon, Quan Nha sat down beside him.

“Still not satisfied?”

“I can do it.”

Hao Nhien looked over the nursery.

“But if only I can do it, then it has no meaning.”

Quan Nha looked at him.

Hao Nhien continued,

“Can Old Madam Lac do it? Can someone who has just returned from hired labor do it? A few years from now, if Tieu Thach knows nothing about medicinal plants, could he still learn?”

Quan Nha understood.

“You want to turn it into ordinary work.”

“Yes.”

From then on, the process was simplified again.

The people of the tribe made small soil plugs, mixing earth with aged livestock manure, then sowed one or two seeds into each. The plugs were arranged around the buried jars in the nursery and covered with only a thin layer of dry grass.

A clear mark was carved inside every jar. Each morning, all anyone needed to do was check the water level. If it fell below the mark, they added more. No spiritual sense or complicated calculations were required.

Once the seedlings were strong enough, the entire plug was transferred into the field so the young roots would not be exposed. Smaller jars were buried between groups of plants, dry grass continued to cover the beds, and shallow channels were dug so excess water would not simply run away.

The method remained crude, but it had become simple enough that Lac Lam needed only a few days before he could teach others. Old Madam Lac could tell at a glance which jars needed more water, while the women hired for the work began dividing responsibility for the nursery among themselves without Hao Nhien needing to stand nearby.

Tieu Thach was the only person forbidden from touching the seedlings.

The reason was simple.

He had dug up the same soil plug three times just to see how long the roots had become.

Time passed faster than Hao Nhien expected.

During the day, he stayed near the trial plots, checking the soil, water, and survival rate of the plants. At night, after entering the Cosmic Ark to visit Tieu Lan, he spent time refining the batch of pills promised to Dai Ninh.

One hundred and fifty mid-grade pills was no small number, but Hao Nhien did not need to complete them in only a few days. He divided the work into separate batches, maintaining a steady refinement rhythm that was enough to preserve quality without interfering with his work in Lac Van.

By sometime in the third week, the earliest seedlings could no longer truly be called seedlings.

Sa Diep grew the fastest, its young leaves deepening into a rich green. Xich Can remained lower to the ground, but its primary roots had grown strong. Kho Diep was still the slowest, yet its survival rate had become high enough to justify expansion.

Hao Nhien gently squeezed one of the soil plugs and studied the white roots tracing along its edge.

“That’s enough.”

Lac Lam, who was standing nearby, immediately asked,

“Move them into the field?”

“Yes.”

Word that the first plants were leaving the nursery spread quickly.

When Hao Nhien began placing the plugs into the outdoor beds, quite a few people from the tribe gathered around to watch. No one pushed forward, but every gaze followed his movements closely.

Hao Nhien placed the first Sa Diep plug into its hole, filled the soil back in, and pressed gently around the base.

Quan Nha planted the second.

Lac Lam did the third.

Then Hao Nhien turned toward the people watching.

“Did you see clearly?”

A woman nodded.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s your turn.”

She froze slightly.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien pointed at the bed.

“Don’t break the soil plug. Put it in, fill the soil back around it, then press lightly along the edge. That is all.”

The woman hesitated before stepping forward.

Her first plant leaned slightly, and Hao Nhien simply adjusted it with one hand.

“It’s fine.”

The second was straighter.

By the third, she no longer needed him to remind her.

Another person stepped forward, then a third.

Before long, the entire bed was gradually being filled by the people of Lac Van themselves.

Hao Nhien stepped aside.

That was what he had wanted to see.

Five days later, most of the plants transferred into the field were still alive.

Some had wilted, some had died, and several Kho Diep clusters had failed to survive their first transplantation. But Sa Diep and Xich Can had already begun sending roots into the soil below.

Lac Lam dug carefully at the edge of one bed, then suddenly shouted,

“The roots are down!”

Everyone nearby immediately turned.

Lac Thua crouched down personally to inspect it. He pressed the damp sand between his fingers and stared for a long moment at the roots that had already extended beyond the original soil plug.

When he finally looked up, his voice was rougher than usual.

“They really took root.”

The corners of the old man’s eyes had reddened slightly.

Tieu Thach squeezed through the adults.

“Uncle Giai.”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

“What?”

“If we grow this, can we trade it for bread?”

The entire group fell silent for one beat before bursting into laughter.

Hao Nhien could not help laughing as well.

“If you grow enough, perhaps.”

Tieu Thach immediately turned toward the fields with an expression suggesting he had just discovered a mountain of bread growing beneath the ground.

The atmosphere in Lac Van changed even faster than the medicinal plots.

Hao Nhien hired people by the day and paid them regularly in spirit stones. Those who took on heavier responsibilities, such as making jars, guiding water, processing medicinal herbs, or learning how to manage the nursery, received additional compensation.

Some people had little use for spirit stones and chose to exchange their wages for grain, salt, or cloth that Hao Nhien purchased from nearby stations.

So even before a single medicinal crop had been sold, life in the tribe had already begun to grow easier.

Young women gained work close to home. Older people who still had strength could prepare soil plugs or gather dry grass, while older children helped with lighter tasks. Goat manure that had once simply been thrown aside was now collected, mixed with grass, and composted before being worked into the soil.

The communal cooking fires burned more often on days when many people worked together. Children received a little more to eat, and the elderly no longer had to surrender as much of their own food to younger family members.

Hao Nhien did not distribute qi-tonifying pills carelessly.

Those weakened by lack of food were given food first. Only those who genuinely needed treatment received diluted medicinal liquids or an appropriate amount of medicine.

After more than half a month, several lingering coughs had eased, some elderly people were eating better, and at least the thinner children had enough strength to run around the nursery again.

It was during this period that Lac Loi returned.

He had been born in Lac Van, but had followed his parents into Heavenly Eye City to earn a living when he was still young. Now in his twenties, he was tall and broad-shouldered, his skin deeply tanned and both hands covered in calluses from years of carrying cargo.

At first, he had only intended to visit home for a few days after hearing that an apothecary from elsewhere was paying people to cultivate medicinal plants.

Hao Nhien noticed him on the second day.

Lac Loi did not ask many questions. He simply stood watching Lac Lam bury the jars, then stepped over on his own to help when one tilted sideways. The next day he appeared again at the nursery, this time helping move soil and asking how to tell when Sa Diep was strong enough to be transplanted.

By the third day, he could already guide several younger people on how to spread dry grass without burying the seedlings.

On the fourth day, while Hao Nhien was inspecting the nursery, Lac Loi came to find him.

“Apothecary Giai.”

Hao Nhien looked up.

“What is it?”

“I want to stay.”

Hao Nhien looked at him.

“You’re not returning to Heavenly Eye City?”

Lac Loi shook his head.

“In the city, I carry cargo. When there’s work, I earn spirit stones. When there isn’t, I sit and wait. I’ve lived that way for many years.”

He looked toward the fields in the distance.

“I can’t earn as much here yet, but my home is here. If there really is work I can do for the long term, I want to learn.”

Hao Nhien asked,

“You understand that this is still only an experiment?”

“I do.”

“In a few months the herb prices may change. The first harvest may fail to reach the expected yield. The Medicine Pavilion may also buy less than we hope.”

“I know.”

Lac Loi did not avoid his gaze.

“But if there is even a chance that I can remain at home and still make a living, I want to try here first.”

Hao Nhien studied the young man for several breaths, then pointed toward the buried jars.

“Then tomorrow, you will teach five new people yourself.”

Lac Loi stared.

“Me?”

“You’ve been watching for four days.”

Hao Nhien said,

“If you truly want to stay, then start by proving that you do not merely know how to do the work yourself, but can also teach others to do it.”

Lac Loi immediately nodded.

“All right.”

On another afternoon, Hao Nhien stood on a low rise overlooking the tribe.

In the distance, several children were chasing one another beside the nursery. Old Madam Lac sat beneath an awning with two other elderly people, while a group of women worked and talked together. On patches of ground that had once been nearly abandoned, there were now straighter beds, evenly buried water jars, and piles of dry grass prepared for the next day.

Quan Nha came to stand beside him.

Hao Nhien watched the scene below for a while before saying softly,

“It’s only a few medicinal beds that managed to survive, yet everyone is already this happy.”

Quan Nha smiled.

“Perhaps because before this, they could not see anything waiting for them ahead.”

Hao Nhien fell silent.

After a while, he said,

“Tieu Lan and I once talked about a life somewhat like this.”

Quan Nha turned toward him.

“It did not need to be large, and not many people needed to know about it.”

Hao Nhien looked at the low houses beneath the evening light.

“A place to return to, someone you want to see, and a few things to do every day. Perhaps that is already enough to make a person feel that they are truly living.”

Quan Nha slipped an arm around his.

“This is the first time I’ve stayed somewhere this long without needing to wonder who might try to kill me tomorrow.”

She leaned a little closer.

“It feels strange.”

Hao Nhien smiled softly.

“You’re not used to it?”

“No.”

Quan Nha answered.

“But I like it.”

After a moment, she said,

“Let’s count this as taking a break for once.”

Hao Nhien looked at her, then wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

Neither of them spoke again.

He still remembered Tieu Lan sleeping inside the Cosmic Ark. He still remembered Heavenly Eye Hall, Hoang Sam, and all the unanswered matters waiting ahead.

But at least for this moment, Hao Nhien did not want to think about them.

Nearly a month after returning to Lac Van, the trial plots looked entirely different from when they had begun.

The system was still crude, but it no longer depended on Hao Nhien alone.

Inside the Cosmic Ark, the batch of pills promised to Dai Ninh was also nearly complete.

A month ago, he had only wanted to test whether the three medicinal herbs growing wild around Lac Van could become a stable source of supply.

Now he had his first answer.

Hao Nhien crouched and brushed aside the soil beside a Sa Diep plant. Its roots had already extended beyond the original plug and sunk deep into the damp sand beneath, while the new leaves were noticeably healthier than those of the first batch.

He covered the roots again and stood.

Lac Loi asked,

“How is it?”

“We can expand.”

The young man’s eyes immediately brightened.

“How much?”

Hao Nhien looked over the land ahead.

“Three times the current area to start.”

Lac Lam had just turned to call for people when Hao Nhien spoke again.

“Wait.”

He turned toward Lac Thua.

“Before we expand, I want to know something.”

Lac Thua looked at him.

“What is it?”

“How many people from the tribe are still working away from home?”

Lac Thua fell silent.

His gaze slowly moved from Hao Nhien to the medicinal beds swaying gently in the wind.

Perhaps only then did he truly understand what the question meant.

Hao Nhien also looked toward the low rooftops of Lac Van.

A month ago, he had only wanted to see whether those three medicinal herbs could be cultivated reliably.

Now, the question he wanted answered was different.

If a person could truly make a living from their own land, would they still have to leave it merely to find a way to survive?