Beware Of Chicken Chapter Volume 1 2: Rice Farming 101

I snapped awake at Big D’s fierce battle yell, accompanied by the furious squeals of a fox. Clutching a shovel, I dashed outside into the delightfully mild night as quickly as possible.

Big D fluttered around the fox’s head, pecking at it with all his might. Though too young for his spurs to inflict real harm, he poured his tiny heart into the effort.

For a brief instant, I stood mesmerized, watching David face off against Goliath.

That is, until the fox swatted him with its paw, sending him tumbling aside. His balance was lost. His doom was certain. The fox lunged forward, its gleaming fangs aimed to finish off my small fighter.

…I couldn’t believe that thought just crossed my mind. I chuckled inwardly.

The fox’s jaws closed on metal rather than meat, and it glanced up in surprise at the sudden interference.

That’s when the fox realized it had made a grave mistake.

My shovel swung in a fierce arc, and with a resounding thud! the fox met its end.

I checked on my little fighter. He’d scrambled back up and was staring daggers at the fox’s body. A quick inspection showed he was unharmed, as were my hens. Merely a scare.

I couldn’t fault the fox; it was simply acting on instinct. I hoped it wouldn’t hold a grudge for me smashing its skull with a shovel in response.

And then turning its pelt into profit, since that’s exactly what I planned. Plus, I hear fox meat is edible.

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You can indeed consume fox. Wouldn’t suggest it. Flavor’s awful.

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Cultivating rice demands more than simply scattering seeds into the earth and crossing your fingers. I’d observed the village farmers’ techniques, and they seemed somewhat inadequate.

To start, you immerse them in water mixed with a 1/16 portion of salt. The seeds boasting the most endosperm—and thus the highest potential for a bountiful harvest—will plunge to the barrel’s depths, while the weaker ones bob to the surface.

Following the soak, you sow the prime seeds in broad containers for their initial sprouting phase.

Eventually, you transfer them to the fields. I’ve always thought it odd how rice thrives more from being uprooted and replanted elsewhere rather than staying put.

Amusingly, most of this knowledge came from a manga I read. Thanks, Shizuko. Sneaking in 1860s methods into this pre-industrial world, just like every Isekai protagonist!

Though firearms wouldn’t help much here, and I had zero interest in world domination. Anyway, rice beats all that nonsense.

Back to the present. I was handling the “sprouting” phase now. The fields were taking shape, etched into a hillside in terraces, supplied by a nearby stream for the eventual flooding.

Cultivator’s power and stamina transformed jobs that ought to span months or years into just days’ work.

Yet I sometimes wondered if my “zen” states stretched longer than I realized. I’d emerge ravenous, and now and then Big D shot me suspicious looks upon my return.

Cultivation’s wild, right?

I huffed, completing my check of the terrace barrier for flaws. It appeared solid, but to be safe, I channeled extra qi into it, weaving my spirit to bolster the structure and fortify the grass roots for stability.

The sect experts would likely freak out over the qi I was “squandering,” but I viewed it differently. It’s a tool. If you possess it, employ it. Plus, it replenished swiftly. By morning, I felt renewed like a fresh bloom. Perhaps top-tier cultivators or those with vast reserves recover slower, but I wasn’t sure and didn’t mind.

Stretching with a yawn, I strolled back to my humble abode, where Big D welcomed me with his usual shrill call.

“Preach it, Big D.” I rubbed his head fondly. The earlier loss hadn’t shaken him, which was positive. He remained a feisty bundle of energy.

My Lowly Spiritual Herbs sprouted in pots next to the budding rice. Since the herbs required qi for proper growth, I decided to enrich the rice as well. No downside there.

I’d also transplanted that odd root I discovered. Unable to visit the archives, this was my storage solution, and with its qi signature, it deserved a thorough watering too.

Gently, I imbued my spirit into the liquid, then grabbed the watering can and tended to everything, Big D perched on my shoulder. He’d occasionally leap down to devour any pest bold enough to target my plants.

Good lad. Extra spirit greens for you post-meal.

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Life continued that way. I had to dispatch a couple more foxes and one gaunt wolf, but peace mostly reigned.

Chop wood.

Break rock.

Plant crop.

Nurture with qi.

Eat food.

Sleep.

Months pass.

.

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The Great Master bestowed upon him the title . Its meaning eluded him, yet he embraced it as his own. He sensed its potency.

But fell short.

Consciousness proved elusive. It flickered in and out. Yet during those lucid moments, he shone. He excelled. And he rose above his inferiors. At night, his perceptions sharpened, ready to warn the Great Master of intruders—those with crimson coats and deadly fangs.

Each failure in his sacred role to protect the females brought him profound disgrace. Still, the Great Master tended to him unconditionally, cherishing him as a beloved child rather than the disgrace he felt.

He was frail. He must build his power and claim his fate!

He perched on the Great Master’s shoulder as qi infused their sustenance, and he dove from on high to smite the lowly vermin that sought to pilfer his vital force.

He patrolled the darkness while the Great Master rested. He defended the dwelling as the Great Master wrought his marvels, shaping the earth and subduing the woods.

He observed the Great Master’s dawn routine, his form gliding with exquisite grace.

Thus, he strived to better himself. He dashed across the Great Master’s domain. He bounded over rises and onto colossal tree limbs. He rammed against the Vast Vessels of Nurture until he could shift them.

Now, he balanced atop the Mighty Pillars of The (a name rich with profound significance, no doubt), pouring his effort into mimicking the Great Master, grasping even a faint echo of his masterful prowess.

His form arced through the sky. His limbs struck with might beyond his kin’s grasp. He moved in rhythm as the Great Master moved. He inhaled as the Great Master inhaled.

A vortex stirred around him.

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I grinned at Big D as he bounded and struck along my fence.

Adorable little fellow.