The morning air was fresh when the old man handed the young man a simple wooden farming tool.
"Come," the old man said calmly. "We work in the field today."
The young man accepted it without hesitation.
In his mind, nothing the old man did could be meaningless. Every action must carry hidden meaning. A hidden expert would never waste time on ordinary tasks.
"…A new form of cultivation training," he thought seriously.
They walked together toward a nearby field.
The land was simple. Uneven soil, scattered stones, and rows of crops that looked normal at first glance.
But to the young man, nothing in this world was "normal" anymore.
Everything could be a test.
Everything could be a hidden path.
The old man pointed at the ground.
"Loosen the soil. Remove the stones. That's all."
The young man nodded.
"Understood, senior."
He immediately knelt down.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
He began working.
At first, it was just physical effort. His hands pushed into the soil, breaking it apart, removing small rocks, clearing the ground.
But very quickly, his mindset shifted.
"…Earth cultivation technique."
His eyes sharpened.
Every movement became deliberate.
Pressing the soil was no longer just force—it was guidance.
Removing stones was no longer simple labor—it was purification.
He slowed his breathing.
Focused his mind.
And began syncing his movements with his internal rhythm.
Strangely—
the soil seemed easier to work with than expected.
It didn't resist as much.
It felt… cooperative.
The young man did not question it.
Instead, he took it as confirmation.
"This world responds to intention," he thought. "The deeper my understanding, the easier reality becomes."
Behind him, the old man stood quietly.
Watching.
Not interrupting.
Not commenting.
Just observing.
Time passed.
The sun slowly climbed higher in the sky.
Sweat formed on the young man's forehead, but he did not stop. In his mind, stopping meant breaking cultivation flow.
And cultivation flow must never be interrupted.
His breathing became steady.
His posture improved.
His movements became smoother.
Without realizing it, his body entered a rhythm that felt almost automatic.
"…My endurance is increasing," he thought.
But he did not question why.
To him, this was progress.
The correct path always felt natural once mastered.
The old man finally stepped forward, inspecting the soil behind him.
It looked… different.
Not dramatically.
But subtly.
The texture seemed more balanced. The loosened soil had a slightly richer appearance. Even the air around the field felt calmer.
The old man narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…Strange."
He said it quietly, almost to himself.
The young man heard it.
He immediately stood a bit straighter.
"Senior, did I do something wrong?"
The old man paused.
Then shook his head.
"No. Just… keep going."
The young man nodded seriously.
"As expected, this is still training."
And so he continued.
Unaware that something subtle was already beginning to change in the land beneath his hands.