I am the god of this land.

07: Harvest

The first rays of morning light squeezed through the cracks in the window, like a golden needle piercing the gray floor of the old house. Mornings in Shimen Village are quiet; there are no car horns, no cell phone notifications, only the sparrows chirping their daily meeting in the old loquat tree outside the courtyard. A thin layer of mist floats in the distant mountain valley, covering half the mountain, like a semi-transparent quilt covering the earth.

Han Feng was woken up by birdsong. It wasn't just one or two birds, but several sparrows and a nest of newly hatched swallows on the window, making a ruckus, chattering away like a bustling market. He rolled over, picked up his phone, and saw it was 7:10 in the morning. He had slept quite a bit, but he felt completely relaxed, probably because he had played all day yesterday. He felt a lazy, content feeling deep inside.

He yawned as he went downstairs, scooped up a ladle of cold water in the kitchen, rubbed his face haphazardly, and then poked his toothbrush in his mouth a few times. Before he had even spat out all the foam, he shuffled into the main room with his toothbrush in his mouth and slippers. The fish tank sat quietly in the corner, and the morning light slanted in from outside the door, passing through the transparent tank walls and casting a clear patch of light on the table.

Han Feng squatted down, looked closer, and then his eyes slowly widened.

Shrimp, a large group of shrimp.

Yesterday, he put in only four or five grayish little river shrimp, so grayish that he didn't even expect them to survive the night. But now, the little puddle is teeming with shrimp, some as long as a thumb, others as small as grains of rice. Their translucent bodies bob and tumble in the water. There are at least dozens of them, huddled together in dense clusters.

Han Feng was stunned. His mind raced as he thought about how the shrimp had been in the tank for almost ten days by this morning. In just ten days, the shrimp had multiplied from a few to a whole group, their reproduction rate was ridiculously fast. He looked down and saw that there was a layer of almost invisible shrimp larvae at the bottom of the puddle, so tiny that they looked like dust and could not be seen unless you got very close.

"Goodness..." Han Feng clicked his tongue, "There must have been both male and female shrimp among those yesterday. I've turned this into an aquaculture base."

Looking at the "little pond" next door, the little carp was still the same, thin and lanky, slowly swaying its tail in the water. It was neither fat nor thin, neither dead nor alive. It stayed alone in its little puddle, without companions or food. It neither reproduced nor starved to death. Han Feng thought for a moment and figured that there was probably some mysterious force in the fish tank keeping it alive.

"Poor bachelor," Han Feng said, glancing at it with pity.

He suddenly had an idea: since the shrimp and fish were separated by a sand wall, why not simply dig a hole in both sides and connect them into a large lake? The fish would have more space to move around, and the shrimp would have more water—a win-win situation.

Without further ado, he rolled up his sleeves and lightly drew a few lines on the sand wall with his fingers, creating an opening in the sand separating the two puddles. Water immediately rushed in from the small pond, and the small puddles near the shrimp also overflowed into this area. In no time, the two puddles merged into an irregularly shaped oval lake, two or three times larger than before. The carp flicked their tails, seemingly quite satisfied with their new environment, and leisurely swam to the center of the lake.

As Han Feng was admiring his "water conservancy project," his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of an inconspicuous green plant in the corner of the fish tank.

It was a small plant, short and growing close to the sand. Its leaves were serrated and glossy green. The most eye-catching feature was a round, fluffy white ball in the center, standing quietly among several green leaves.

Dandelion.

Han Feng stared at the dandelion for three seconds, then burst out laughing.

He remembered that on his way to fishing yesterday afternoon, he had impulsively picked a dandelion and blew on it. The white fluff covered her face. It was windy then, so a lot of fluff must have stuck to his own clothes and hair. When he came back and was tidying up the fish tank that night, probably when he bent over or looked down, a fluffy seed fell down and landed in the fish tank. Time flies in the fish tank, and overnight, the seed took root in the sand, sprouted, grew, blossomed, and formed a fluffy seed head—all in one go.

"Alright, you can be considered the chosen one." Han Feng nodded at the dandelion.

He squatted in front of the fish tank, his hands supporting his knees, a few thoughts racing through his mind. Yesterday, the fish tank had told him that the plants wouldn't dare to grow randomly without his command. So what if he said "grow freely"? He wanted to see what these plants would look like if they were really allowed to grow freely.

"Um..." Han Feng cleared his throat and said seriously to the fish tank, "I command that all plants in the tank are allowed to grow freely, however they want."

The moment the words were spoken, the changes began.

First, there's the lychee tree. Its trunk is thickening at a visible rate. Yesterday it was only as thick as a child's wrist, but now it's expanding outwards in circles, as if it's been inflated. The bark has become rough, with deeper and denser veins. The leaves look like they've been coated with oil, a dark, shiny green. Every leaf is stretching and growing larger, with veins so clear they look painted on. The canopy is spreading out in all directions, the branches are growing longer segment by segment, and new buds are sprouting outwards from the tender leaves. The whole tree is like an open green umbrella, taking up most of the space in the fish tank.

The dandelions were even more spectacular. The tiny yellow bud bloomed almost instantly, then withered, and a fluffy white ball emerged from the calyx. Immediately afterward, the ball burst open, releasing countless white fluffy seeds like tiny paratroopers, dancing in the transparent space of the fish tank. They landed on the sand, took root, sprouted, and blossomed—blooming, forming more balls, and then bursting open again. In just a few minutes, the sand at the bottom of the tank was densely covered with dandelion leaves, a lush green carpet, like a green rug spread across the desert. The white fluffy balls stood side by side, their fluffy seeds fluttering about, creating a snowstorm throughout the fish tank.

Han Feng was speechless with astonishment.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." He quickly waved his hand.

As if receiving a command, the plants immediately slowed down their growth. The lychee tree stopped growing at about one meter tall, its trunk as thick as an adult's upper arm, and its crown as full as a green cloud. Dandelions covered the entire sand surface, and occasionally a few fluffy balls swayed gently in the breeze.

Han Feng nodded in satisfaction, his gaze returning to the abundant swarm of shrimp. He suddenly swallowed hard; he hadn't even had breakfast yet.

He reached into the fish tank, scooped up a handful of shrimp. The shrimp were lively and jumping in his palm, their translucent bodies gleaming bluish-gray in the morning light, incredibly fresh. He scooped up about twenty of them, put them in a small bowl, and turned to go into the kitchen.

He turned on the stove, boiled water, and poured the shrimp in. As soon as the shrimp entered the boiling water, they instantly turned from bluish-gray to orange-red, curling into little hooks. The kitchen was filled with a sweet, fresh smell of the sea. He took them out, rinsed them in cold water, sprinkled a pinch of salt on them, and sat down at the table in the main room.

He peeled one, dipped it in soy sauce and vinegar, and popped it into his mouth. The shrimp meat was firm and chewy, incredibly fresh and sweet, even better than the live shrimp he bought at the seafood market in the city. Han Feng squinted as he chewed, feeling that he had never eaten such fresh shrimp in his life. It was cooked right after it came out of the fish tank and eaten right after it came out of the pot. Who could compare to its freshness?

He ate more than a dozen shrimp in one go before slowing down. While peeling the shrimp, he looked at the small fish tank on the table. The lychee tree in the tank was as green as jade, the dandelion fluff balls were dancing in the wind, the small carp were swimming slowly in the lake, and the shrimp were playing and frolicking happily. Sunlight shone in from outside the door, passing through the transparent tank walls and illuminating the world inside.

Han Feng stuffed the last shrimp into his mouth and mumbled, "The Creator's breakfast is just different."