Internal Day 2
The soil was terrible.
Ji Han crouched over the furrow he had clawed out with his bare hands and the pickaxe. The clay was alkaline, hard, and devoid of worms or life. In a normal world, planting here would be a waste of good seed.
But this was the Eternal Domain. The ambient energy—Qi—was thick enough to taste.
He held the pouch of Spirit Rice Seeds. There were exactly ten grains. They glowed with a faint, milky luminescence, like pearls.
"Do not bury them too deep," Lin Qinghe said. She was sitting against the crate, her face pale as the moon. She was too weak to stand, but her eyes were sharp. "Spirit Rice breathes the Qi of heaven. It needs exposure."
Ji Han looked at her. "You know agriculture?"
"I know the Dao of Wood," she corrected, shifting painfully. "I once severed a Spirit Forest with a single stroke. I know how plants die. Therefore, I know how they live."
Ji Han didn't argue. He carefully placed the seeds into the soil, spaced exactly thirty centimeters apart. He covered them with a dusting of loose earth, then used the waterskin to trickle a precise amount of murky water over each mound.
Ten seeds. Ten hopes.
"How long?" Ji Han asked, wiping his muddy hands on his pants.
"In the outside world, Spirit Rice takes a year to mature," Lin Qinghe said. "Here? The soil is poor, but the atmospheric Qi is dense. Perhaps six months."
Ji Han felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach.
Six months.
He looked at the three loaves of black rye bread sitting on the crate.
He had to make three loaves of bread last one hundred and eighty days.
Internal Day 45
Hunger was not a constant pain. It was a wave.
It would crash over him in the mornings, a sharp, twisting cramp that doubled him over. Then it would recede into a dull, lethargic fog that made his limbs feel like lead.
Ji Han sat by the small field. The ten seeds had sprouted. Ten green shoots, vibrant and defiant against the grey wasteland, stood about ankle-high. They were growing.
But Ji Han was shrinking.
He took his daily ration. It was a crumb. Literally. He had sliced the rye bread into paper-thin shavings. He placed one shaving on his tongue and let it dissolve, trying to trick his brain into thinking he had eaten a meal.
It tasted of sawdust and despair.
"You are starving," Lin Qinghe observed. She lay on a bed of dried grass he had gathered. She was healing, but at a glacial pace. The "time dilation" didn't seem to speed up her recovery as much as it did his metabolism.
"I'm managing variables," Ji Han rasped. His cheekbones were sharper than they had been a month ago. His clothes hung loosely on his frame.
"You are dying," she said plainly. "A mortal body cannot sustain itself on Qi alone. You need meat. You need fat."
"There is no meat," Ji Han snapped, the irritability of hunger flaring up. "Unless you want me to butcher you."
Lin Qinghe's eyes flashed dangerous cold. "Try it, and I will show you that a broken sword still cuts."
Ji Han sighed, the anger draining away as quickly as it came, leaving him exhausted. "I know. Just... conserve your energy. Stop talking."
He stood up to water the crops. He had to walk to the well, fill the skin, walk back. A simple task.
He stood up too fast.
The world tilted. Black spots danced in his vision. His knees buckled, and he collapsed into the dust.
[System: Warning. Caloric Intake Critical. Vitality Falling.][Status: Malnourished (Tier 1)]
He lay there for a long time, staring at the purple sky. The clouds didn't move. The wind didn't blow.
He wanted to sleep. If he slept, he wouldn't feel the hunger.
"Get up," a voice hissed.
Ji Han turned his head. Lin Qinghe had crawled over to him. She was dragging herself by her elbows, her white robes trailing in the dirt.
"Get. Up." She reached out and grabbed his wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "If you sleep now, the cold of the night will take you. The domain will reclaim your biomass."
"Tired," Ji Han mumbled.
"Cultivate," she ordered.
"I can't... I don't know how."
"Breathing," she said, her voice intense. "Listen to me. The food of the body is gone. You must eat the food of the world. Inhale... hold... visualize the air filling your blood. Force the energy into your marrow."
Ji Han closed his eyes. He tried to follow her instruction. He breathed in the metallic, heavy air. He imagined it wasn't air, but soup. Thick, nutritious soup.
It didn't fill his stomach. But as he focused on the rhythm—inhale for four, hold for seven, exhale for eight—the dizziness faded slightly. The static in his head cleared.
He pushed himself up.
"Six months," he whispered. "I just have to last six months."
Internal Day 148
Ji Han was a skeleton wrapped in canvas.
His ribs were visible through his skin. His eyes were sunken in dark sockets. He moved with the slow, deliberate shuffling of the elderly.
He sat cross-legged in front of the field.
The change had happened overnight. The tall, green stalks, now waist-high, had turned a brilliant, golden yellow. The heavy heads of grain drooped, heavy and swollen.
A sweet, nutty aroma wafted from the plants, smelling better than any perfume, better than any memory of home.
"Is it... time?" his voice was a dry croak.
Lin Qinghe sat nearby. She looked better. Her skin had regained a healthy luster, and she could walk short distances now. She had spent the last three months meditating, slowly repairing her shattered meridians.
She nodded solemnly. "The husks are splitting. The Qi has solidified. It is time."
Ji Han didn't cheer. He didn't have the energy.
He reached out with a trembling hand and snapped a stalk. He didn't have tools to thresh it properly. He didn't care. He rubbed the grain head between his palms, separating the golden husks from the pearl-white kernels inside.
[System: Item Acquired][Spirit Rice (Grade: Low)][Effect: Contains concentrated Qi. Restores Vitality and Satiety.]
He had a handful of raw, uncooked rice.
He shoved it into his mouth.
He chewed. The grains were hard, crunching against his teeth, but as they broke apart, a burst of warmth exploded in his mouth. It wasn't just flavor—it was energy. Pure, distilled life.
He swallowed. The heat traveled down his throat and hit his stomach like a shot of whiskey.
[System: Vitality Restoring...][System: Hunger Decreasing...]
Tears pricked Ji Han's eyes. He grabbed another stalk, then another.
"Cook it, you fool," Lin Qinghe scolded, though her tone was less harsh than usual. "You will get indigestion."
"Can't wait," Ji Han choked out, chewing frantically. "Fire takes too long."
He ate until his stomach hurt. He ate until the shaking in his hands stopped. He ate until the grey fog of his mind lifted, replaced by a sharp, vibrant clarity.
He sat back, breathing heavily. He looked at his hands. The veins were still prominent, the skin still loose, but the strength was returning.
He looked at the barrier timer.
Time Remaining: 6 Days, 16 Hours, 00 Minutes.
He let out a long, shuddering breath.
"I survived."
He had lived through half a year of starvation. Outside, barely ten hours had passed since his arrival.
He looked at the remaining stalks. He had eaten perhaps 5% of the harvest. The rest needed to be harvested, dried, and stored.
He looked at Lin Qinghe.
"We have food," he said.
"We have fodder," she corrected, standing up and brushing dust from her robes. She looked at him, her expression shifting. For the first time, there was a flicker of respect in her eyes. "But you... you have determination, Lord Ji Han. Most mortals would have eaten the seeds on the second day."
"I did the math," Ji Han said, standing up. He felt light, powerful. The Spirit Rice was potent. "If I ate the seeds, I died. If I waited, I had a 10% chance of living."
He picked up the rusted iron sword he had never used.
"Now," he said, looking at the fog beyond the barrier. "We have food. We have water. I have six and a half years left."
He turned to the Sword Empress.
"Teach me to kill."