Under the pull of an invisible force, nature's spiritual energy quickly gathered into clouds.
Soon, a drizzle of light rain began to fall.
Countless crystal-clear droplets hit the ground and were swiftly absorbed by the thirsty soil; the seedlings, previously wilted from the sun, perked up again, regaining their vivid green hue.
Every seedling thirstily drew the nourishment bestowed by heaven and earth, joyously swaying their leaves and creating a rustling sound as they brushed against each other.
Expressing their delight.
Wang Chen felt the emotions conveyed by these sprouts and couldn't help but reveal a faint smile.
His gaze swept across the Spirit Fields in front of him, staring at the distant valley shrouded in mist.
One month ago, Wang Chen arrived at this place known as Flying Catkins Valley, then built a dwelling on the hillside ten miles from the valley and even cultivated thirty mu of Spirit Fields.
