Old Ding’s youngest grandson lay sprawled out on the table, sipping the clear porridge that was devoid of a single grain of rice, forcing himself not to look at the chicken on the table. Yet occasionally, he couldn’t help but sneak a peek.
The little grandson, around five or six years old, was named Ding Miao.
His name was likely chosen in the hopes that he would grow up just as smoothly and healthily as the seedlings in the fields.
The growth of the seedlings signified a year of abundant harvest.
The growth of a child signified a life of peace and smooth sailing.
Mo Hua finished the porridge in his bowl, ate a piece of chicken, then pushed the entire plate of meat towards Miao.
"I’m full, let Miao have it."
Old Ding hurriedly said, "How could we possibly accept this?"
Mo Hua said, "I’ll ask you some questions, and you answer them for me. That will serve as payment for the Formation Painting."
Old Ding said, "Young master, ask whatever you need to, I’ll speak without holding back. It’s part of my duty, but this…"
However, Mo Hua wouldn’t allow him to refuse. "It’s settled then."
But Ding Miao shook his head, his childish voice speaking up:
"Big brother, eat."
Mo Hua patted his head, speaking gently, "You eat it."
Ding Miao intended to refuse.
His grandfather had taught him to always treat guests well.
But he was truly hungry, and it had been so long since he knew the taste of meat.
He couldn’t resist and took a bite of the chicken.
Then, lost in the savory aroma of the chicken, he began to eat one piece after another...
Mo Hua patted his little head again.
Ding Miao looked up, eating the meat, his eyes bright and shiny.
Old Ding watched, his heart aching.
This was his own grandson, who often didn’t even have enough rice to feel full, let alone meat...
On one side, Ding Miao was wholeheartedly devouring a plate of chicken.
Mo Hua then asked Old Ding:
"Old Ding, were all the Formations in this field painted by the Sun Family?"
Old Ding nodded, "It’s been modified and improved across hundreds of years since the Sun Family ancestors started with it."
"The ancestors of the Sun Family?"
With some emotion, Old Ding began to recount:
"The Old Ancestor of the Sun Family, in particular, was a famously great Formation Master and a first-rate kind man."
"He was originally a cultivator from elsewhere who ended up here by chance. Seeing the cultivators in Thousand Families Town struggle, he showed kindness by painting Formations in the Spirit Fields."
"These Formations enriched the soil and water, ensuring a bountiful harvest of Spirit Rice, and kept us from worrying about food and clothes."
"The cultivators of Thousand Families Town were extremely grateful and tried fervently to retain him, even building a mansion for him..."
"That’s the very mansion belonging to the Sun Family now, though they’ve renovated it several times at great expense, and it no longer retains its original appearance."
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"What happened afterward?" Mo Hua asked.
"Later on…" Old Ding sighed, "the Old Ancestor of the Sun Family died for unknown reasons. There are rumors that he died from overstudying Formation Patterns, which shattered his Sea of Consciousness, but this is just hearsay; the internal affairs are unclear to me…"
"After the death of the Old Ancestor of the Sun Family, we remembered the kindness of the Sun Family and remained grateful to them. Every harvest, we would send some Spirit Paddy their way."
"Gradually, the descendants of the Sun Family came to take this for granted. They felt we owed the Sun Family and ought to offer up ’tribute’ to them."
"In years of poor harvest, when we gave less, the Sun Family would curse us, calling us ungrateful wretches."
"What’s worse is that they later harbored ill intentions, demanding not just the crop yield but also the village’s young women to serve as maids for them… How could we possibly agree to that?"
"Thus, a kindly gesture turned into enmity…"
"As time went on, our conflicts with the Sun Family deepened. The Sun Family, relying on these Formations, started making exorbitant demands, and we ended up having to give them most of our annual harvest."
"But we can’t refuse. The land here is adjacent to the mountains and infertile; without the Formations, the Spirit Rice in the fields would soon wither away…"
Old Ding heaved a deep sigh.
Mo Hua listened, also feeling some emotion, and then asked:
"What about the Formations in the fields then? Are they the same as the ones painted by the Old Ancestor of the Sun Family, unchanged?"
Old Ding scratched his head, trying to remember. He said:
"It seems not…"
"According to the elders among the cultivators in the village, the Formations painted by the Old Ancestor had no trace and needed no repairs, lasting for many years."