Unconsciously, he had already passed through his family’s orchard.In Green Mountain Village, most villagers planted fruit trees, and the Wang family was no exception—though they grew orange and apple trees. The plot before him was filled with orange trees.


    Oranges typically divided into early and late varieties, and the Wang family’s were early-maturing. Even so, they wouldn’t ripen until late September or early October. Now, in August, the oranges were still small and unripe.


    Looking at the tiny green fruits, Wang Tiezhu sighed. It wasn’t harvest season yet. If they could sell these oranges now, they could fetch a high price.


    Then an idea struck him—the ancestral transmission he’d inherited included a technique to accelerate plant growth. Though meant for cultivating medicinal herbs, he wondered if it could work on fruit trees.


    The Bencao Formula was described in the medical texts: channeling qi into water to create a "spiritual elixir" that could be used to nourish plants.


    Acting swiftly, he fetched a cracked plastic basin from the river, dipped his finger into the water, and began channeling the Bencao Formula. Green mist seeped from his fingertip, transforming the water into a translucent green liquid.


    When his qi reserves dwindled to exhaustion, he stopped, wiping sweat from his brow. "Damn, my cultivation is still too weak," he muttered. A mere half-basin of elixir had drained him.


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    Pouring the liquid at the base of one orange tree, he returned home.


    His father, Wang Dazhuang, had regained consciousness and was now weak but stable. After a herbal decoction, he could even walk with support by evening.


    Their dinner was meager—thin porridge, corn cakes, and pickled vegetables. Though Wang Tiezhu longed to celebrate his father’s recovery, their poverty weighed heavily. Money had been spent on medical bills after Wang Dazhuang’s injury, leaving little to spare.


    "Make do for now," Li Xiaoping said, her lips chapped. "Once your father recovers, we’ll earn more."


    Wang Tiezhu nodded, resolve hardening. "Leave it to me. I’ll support the family."


    At dawn, as the sun rose and purple qi filled the air, he practiced the Ziqi Donglai Technique, a cultivation method best practiced at sunrise. After an hour, his qi reserves had replenished—and slightly expanded. Progress, though slow, was progress.


    Returning to the orchard, he gasped. The tree he’d treated glowed with ripe orange fruit, heavy enough to bend branches to the ground. One fruit, too large for his palm, weighed over half a pound.


    The yield was staggering—thousands of oranges, totaling nearly 300 pounds. Their natural sweetness, bursting with juice, far surpassed store-bought varieties.


    "Sold now, we’ll make a fortune!" he thought, already planning to sell the entire orchard’s harvest, open a fruit shop in town, and expand nationwide. With the Bencao Formula, success was assured.


    But first, he had to convince his mother. Returning home, he showed her the fruit. Skeptical at first, she soon joined him in harvesting five baskets of oranges.


    That night, he visited their neighbor Zhong Ting, a young woman who lived alone after her parents’ death. Her tractor would make transporting the oranges easier. Knocking on her door, he recalled her childhood days, trailing him like a shadow, now a symbol of hope in their shared struggles.