PCJ – Chapter 167 A Small Accomplishment in Qinggong

Once Zhang Manyin left, Zhang Jiaohua immediately grabbed a hoe and headed to the field. However, when he reached the field, he was taken aback. It was an acre of land, and using just a hoe to turn over the entire field would take an indefinite amount of time. But, having made up his mind, Zhang Jiaohua didn’t want to back down. He rolled up his pant legs and sleeves and began working.

The soil in the field was relatively loose, making it not too difficult to turn over, but the progress was very slow. After turning over a small patch, Zhang Jiaohua had to stop and catch his breath.

Jinhu approached and took the hoe from Zhang Jiaohua, who let go, knowing Jinhu wanted to help. Jinhu then began turning over the soil at a rapid pace, making the soil flip over as if an automated machine were doing the work.

Out of nowhere, Fugui and the others appeared with a plow. Fugui, Xiaoshuan, and Mancang pulled it from the front while Gouwa controlled it from behind. They worked faster than an ox, turning over large chunks of soil. Jinhu followed behind, breaking up and leveling the soil.

If anyone saw what was happening in Zhang Jiaohua’s field, they would be terrified. Since they couldn’t see Jinhu and the others, it would appear as though the farming tools were working on their own.

Zhang Jiaohua originally thought it would take several days to turn over the field, but it was done in less than an hour. Fugui and the others handled the plow skillfully, and Jinhu wielded the hoe like a whirlwind, leveling the field as they went. Seeing the field transformed so quickly would frustrate any seasoned farmer.

In the morning, Zhang Manyin reluctantly walked to his second son’s house, grumbling all the way. He didn’t want to come, as his grandson was too stubborn. He had offered to plant the field for him and give him the grain, but the grandson insisted on doing it himself. His wife had supported the boy, so after getting angry and being scolded by his wife, he was ordered to take Jiaohua to town to buy seeds today.

“Who’s really in charge here?” Zhang Manyin muttered, kicking a pesticide bottle far away, which landed in a paddy field.

When Zhang Manyin looked toward the field, his eyes widened in disbelief. The field, which had been overgrown with green weeds yesterday, was now neatly plowed, as smooth as a book. Even the most experienced farmers in the village couldn’t achieve such a level of flatness, and there were no footprints visible.

Rubbing his eyes repeatedly, Zhang Manyin confirmed he wasn’t seeing things.

There were no cow footprints at the edge of the field, which would have been left if cows had been used for plowing. But there were plowing marks in the field.

Determined to find out, Zhang Manyin quickened his pace towards his second son’s house.

Zhang Jiaohua had been up for a while, having already completed his martial arts practice. He was now running in the main room with sandbags on his legs.

The bamboo sieve, now empty, would tip over if even a child weighing thirty or forty pounds stood on it. But Zhang Jiaohua, with the added weight of sixty or seventy pounds of sandbags, was able to run steadily on it. His body leaned sharply inward to maintain balance, which he did perfectly with speed. His training had reached a level where he could now master the skill.

Recently, Zhang Jiaohua felt like he could fly when he removed the sandbags. He could now climb trees quickly and leap over the two-meter-high wall at home, feeling light and agile. This was real martial arts.

Zhang Manyin had planned to loudly call out upon entering, assuming his grandson would still be asleep, but he saw him practicing in the main room. The main door was open, so he could see from the yard.

Zhang Jiaohua, running fast, hadn’t noticed Zhang Manyin’s arrival. Shanbao glanced at Zhang Manyin but didn’t greet him, familiar with his presence.

Zhang Jiaohua kept running like a spinning top. After the duration of a stick of incense, he didn’t feel exhausted. Each sandbag on his legs weighed twenty pounds, which was the maximum he could comfortably bind without compromising his agility. He had realized that adding more weight wouldn’t be beneficial.

As Zhang Jiaohua’s body began to tire and sweat poured out, forming streams on his skin, he stumbled but managed to jump off the bamboo sieve steadily.

“Grandpa, you’re here,” Zhang Jiaohua finally noticed Zhang Manyin.

“Yes,” Zhang Manyin, who had arrived angrily, was now more astonished than angry. “Are you practicing martial arts? I didn’t see you learn from any master.”

“I learned from the old Taoist master,” Zhang Jiaohua admitted. The whole family knew about his training with the old Taoist master.

“Oh,” Zhang Manyin thought, and then remembered the plowed field. “Jiaohua, did you know your field has been plowed?”

“Yes, it was done last night. It took a lot of effort,” Zhang Jiaohua said, although he had only turned over a small portion.

“Are you saying you plowed that field overnight? With a hoe?” Zhang Manyin looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“If not me, then who else?” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

Though incredulous, Zhang Manyin had to accept the fact. Deciding not to dwell on it, he got back to the main topic. “Today I’m going to town to buy seeds. If you’re coming, eat breakfast quickly. Otherwise, come have breakfast with me. It’s hard for you to cook alone.”

“No need. I’ll be ready soon. I still need to cook for the chickens and ducks,” Zhang Jiaohua declined Zhang Manyin’s offer.