Asking About Longevity Chapter 381

Chapter 381 Lingtian (Thanks to the leader who came to reward the passers-by~)

 There are hundreds of things to do in cultivating Taoism.

Jiuzhou is vast and has different regional customs. Monks rely on mountains and water to make a living, adapting to local conditions and making a living in various industries.

 Lingnong farming and planting spiritual rice crops are one of the 100 industries of monasticism.

Tongxian City is mountainous and has no arable land. The spiritual grains and rice we eat are all bought from a fairy city in the west that makes a living by planting spiritual fields.

 In all his life, Mo Hua has never seen such a large spiritual field in front of him.

To the south of Qianjia Town, there are vast spiritual fields arranged in a tic-tac-shape arrangement, covering about one hundred hectares.

 In the spiritual field, there are green rice seedlings, filled with dense water vapor.

The sky is high, white clouds are lingering, and the rice fields are fertile and stretch open, like an emerald carpet, spreading into the distance.

Where the blue sky and the spiritual field meet in the distance, there are mountains covered by clouds and fog.

Mo Hua took a deep breath, the air was crisp and clear, his mind was relaxed and happy, his eyes were slightly bright, and he suddenly realized something.

 All things are born, and the earth supports all things.

The sky is the manifestation of the great road, and the earth is the derivative of the great road.

 There are indeed traces of formations among these spiritual fields.

The ridge of the Lingtian field is paved with some hard earth and rocks, and formations are painted on the earth and rocks.

However, these formations are not absolute formations, but simple earth-nurturing formations, used to cultivate spiritual rice and store water vapor.

 When Mo Hua's spiritual consciousness was released, what he perceived was an ordinary Yutu Formation without any special formation aura, which was a bit regretful.

So I thought about going deeper and finding out.

There is a path near Lingtian. Mo Hua walked along the path for a while and suddenly frowned.

It was just morning, the sun was shining brightly, and there were smart farmers working in the fields.

Most of these spiritual farmers are older, their clothes are shabby and full of mud marks, their skin is dark and thin, and their fingers are rough and chapped.

 They were bent over, as if they were being pressed down by something, and they were out of breath.

 In the bright morning sun, in the vibrant spiritual field.

These spiritual farmers, with their stooped stature and dull expressions, seemed out of place.

Mo Hua sighed.

While walking, he met an old man next to a spiritual field.

 The old man must also be a spiritual farmer. He was dry and thin, with a trace of despair on his face that was as yellow as a wooden sculpture.

 Beside him was a little grandson, who was also wiping tears with his dirty little hands.

Mo Hua couldn't bear it, so he asked:

 “Sir, what's the matter?”

The old man turned his head dullly and saw a young monk with a delicate appearance and clear eyes. He hesitated many times and finally could only sigh deeply:

 “The fields are ruined again…”

 The voice was full of bitterness and hardship.

Mo Hua was slightly startled and asked worriedly:

 “How can the fields be ruined?”

The old man pointed to the field road and said in a hoarse voice:

“The formation is broken. Without the formation, the spiritual fields will be barren and cannot hold water. The crops in the fields will dry up, and there will be no harvest this year..."

 At the end of the sentence, the old man's voice was slightly choked.

Mo Hua turned around and took a look, and saw that on the field ridge, there was indeed an ineffective earth-nurturing formation. There were only formation patterns on it, but there was no spiritual energy flowing.

Mo Hua breathed a sigh of relief. He thought it was a big deal...

It's just a cultivation formation with six formation patterns.

"This formation is simple, let me help you fix it." Mo Hua said.

 The old man was stunned, "You...you know how to form?"

 The child next to him also looked at the ink painting eagerly.

Mo Hua nodded and said modestly: "I know a little bit."

 “This formation is very difficult…”

 “I just learned it.”

The old man believed Mo Hua a little when he saw that although he was young, he was calm and confident, but he was a little confused:

 “In case something goes wrong…”

 “Isn't this already broken?”

The old man was stunned, and he thought that he was right. It was broken anyway, and there was no other way. But the formation was related to his livelihood, so he still couldn't let go.

 He hesitated, and after several struggles, the old man seemed to have broken the jar, so he said dejectedly:

 “Little brother, you draw it...”

He really had no other choice.

Mo Hua took out his formation pen and dipped it in ink.

 The old man looked slightly surprised. This little monk seemed to have some dignity...

 He couldn't help but look forward to it.

Then he saw Mo Hua walking to the edge of the field, holding a pen in his little hand, and drew a few random strokes. Then he raised his head and said to him in a clear voice:

"alright."

The old man hasn't come back to his senses yet, and he hasn't seen what the ink painting has drawn. He looks in disbelief and says:

 “This...is this good?”

Took a look and made a few strokes. Is it repaired?

"Yeah." Mo Hua nodded, "It's very simple."

The old man walked to the edge of the field and looked at the formation. He saw that there was indeed a light yellow light on the formation, and he was still in a dream for a moment.

 The water vapor in the fields is also gradually accumulating.

 The spiritual rice is no longer dry, and its color is a little greener.

The old man couldn't help but laugh. He smiled as if he thought that with the harvest, he and his grandson would not starve to death. He squatted on the edge of the field again and wiped away tears.

 The ink paintings are inexplicably sad.

There are some monks in this world who live such a humble life. Just being able to survive makes me cry with joy...

 “Thank you little brother…”

The old man said solemnly, feeling extremely grateful, but he had been dealing with fields all his life and could not say anything nice, so he could only say "thank you".

Mo Hua asked:

“Your formation is broken, haven't you asked others to fix it?”

The old man said helplessly: "Please, let me repair ten spiritual stones once. Once repaired, it will break. If it breaks, repair again..."

"In order to cultivate this formation, I put in all the remaining spiritual stones at home, and I still owe the Sun family dozens of spiritual stones... If I continue to cultivate this formation, even if all this year's harvest is paid to the Sun family, I will still have to pay back No more debts."

 “Sun family?”

The old man pointed to Qianjia Town, "That's the richest Sun family in the town."

"This formation was passed down from their ancestors. The Sun family said that only they can draw it and only they can practice it. So we can only give them as many spiritual stones as they want."

Mo Hua asked doubtfully: "Didn't you ask other formation masters to practice it?"

The old man said with a grimace, "There are no other formation masters in Qianjia Town..."

“Occasionally, formation masters who pass by will not help us at all for the sake of the Sun family.”

 “The Sun family is a local snake, and they don't dare to offend...”

 The mood of the ink painting is a bit complicated.

He looked at Lingtian's formation again and found that there were indeed traces of repairs before, but the ink was extremely cheap, the cost was minimal, the technique was extremely rough, and the level of the formation was extremely superficial.

  It is estimated that it was made by an apprentice or an incompetent formation master.

 Or perhaps, the Sun family cultivated in a perfunctory way on purpose.

 If the cultivation is too good, it will not break easily, and it will not be easy for them to rely on formations to exploit spiritual stones.

 Cultivation once is equivalent to ten spiritual stones...

 In the long run, it is simply not something that ordinary casual cultivators can afford.

Mo Hua asked again: "What if I can't repay the debt I owe to the Sun family?"

The old man sighed: "Then sell your children to them, and the men will be servants and the women will be maids."

“Once you enter the Sun family and become a slave, your name will be changed, and your parents will no longer recognize you. You can only work for them as cattle and horses..."

Mo Hua's eyes narrowed slightly.

 He finally knew how the Sun family had so many servants and maids serving them...

As the old man talked, he came back to his senses and said apologetically:

“For a long time, I have listened to my old man's complaints...”

Then he thought of something and looked ashamed again, "This spiritual stone to repair the formation, I..."

He wanted to give it, but his family was so poor that he couldn't afford any spiritual stones.

Mo Hua then waved his hand and said: "It's a simple matter, no need."

The old man felt really sorry and said:

"Little sir, if you don't mind, come to my house and have a casual meal."

 The old man looked very guilty.

Mo Hua thought for a while and then agreed. It happened that he also had something to ask.

The two of them chatted a little more along the way.

Mo Hua learned that the old man's surname was Ding, a family of four, living in Dongshan Village near Qiandeng Town, and had been farmers for generations.

 You can cultivate spiritual fields, but the income is meager and cannot support a family.

The son and daughter-in-law went out to make a living and came back almost every year or two.

 Leaving his grandson at home with him, he could still make ends meet with a few acres of thin farmland.

 Old man Ding invited Mo Hua home.

 Looking at the ink painting, it is no surprise that the house is indeed very shabby with only four walls.

Old man Ding said in embarrassment: "This... family is really..."

Mo Hua shook his head and didn't mind.

 He was born as a casual cultivator and knew what it was like to be poor.

 Old man Ding went to make a fire to cook.

 After a while, a bowl of porridge, a plate of pickles, and a native chicken were placed on the table.

 This native chicken was killed immediately.

 When Mo Hua walked in, he saw it calling to him in the yard.

Although this kind of chicken is also raised by monks and is a spiritual beast, it has almost no spiritual energy and is not worth many spiritual stones, so some casual cultivators will raise a few and just feed them some grass.

 But this is also the only chicken in Old Man Ding's house.

 Pickles are bitter and salty.

 There is half a bowl of rice in the porridge, but it is only in the bowl painted by Mo.

 In the bowls of Old Man Ding and his grandson, there was only clear porridge and little water, not even a grain of rice.

　　Those who farm the fields have no rice to eat.

Mo Hua was silent for a moment.

“It's very hard to practice casual cultivation in Tongxian City, but the vast majority of casual cultivators in this world may be even more miserable than in Tongxian City.”

 Elder Yu had said this to him, but this was the first time Mo Hua realized it deeply.

He thought again of the food the Sun family had eaten in the morning, which was full on the table, as well as the rice and meat that were thrown away before they were finished...

Mo Hua sighed.

   Thank you to the book friends and the ally who came to reward me!

This is my second alliance leader, thank you~

I wrote it down in a small notebook and will add more later~

But I am really writing slowly at the moment, and I need to stabilize my mentality and elaborate on the details, so I won't have to say much, I'm sorry.

 (End of this chapter)

Chapter end