Chapter 18

A light throbbing greeted the morning.

The experiences and memories etched into my brain are always welcome—unless they involve skipping stages, of course.

中级 2 Level Mining achieved.

中级 5 Level Farming achieved.

Whatever it is, leveling up always fills me with joy. Even though things don’t seem to have changed much on the surface, when I actually get to work, I can’t help but nod in approval at the skills and experience that come with the level.

But honestly, farming is the one that’s hardest to notice any real difference. Maybe it’s because it requires no technical skill—just repetitive labor. Knowledge and experience may seep into my mind one by one, but there’s rarely an opportunity to apply them.

How to grow fruit trees properly.

How to raise livestock effectively.

How to restore depleted soil.

How to repel crop pests.

All these pieces of knowledge keep popping up, but thanks to Valley of Starwind’s unique nature, there’s hardly ever a need to use them in farming. Like in games, the land here is blessed—it’s a naturally fertile haven where plants grow vigorously even if you just toss seeds around carelessly. It’s beginner-friendly and expert-proof.

That’s why farming levels skyrocket like crazy. Though farming isn’t as efficient time-wise compared to fishing, before I know it, the gap between the two has narrowed to only two levels.

When you think about it, it makes sense. Planting and harvesting thousands of crops versus catching fish one by one with a rod—the sheer quantity difference is astronomical. While there might be slight variations in experience points gained, farming overwhelmingly dominates in terms of sheer volume.

A refreshing glass of water wakes me up from the lingering grogginess of sleep.

Glancing at the clock, it’s 5:50 AM. Waking up at this hour every day makes the soft, rose-tinted glow of dawn feel almost comforting. The sharp sunlight streaming through the window feels crisp and invigorating.

I absentmindedly run my tousled hair back and open the door, letting the cool morning air rush into my lungs all at once.

“Good morning…”

Anne greets me with half-dead eyes. Just as the clock strikes six—or maybe she was already here earlier. Her sunken, darkened eyes tell the story of someone who clearly didn’t get enough rest.

“I didn’t expect you so early.”

“What do you mean ‘expected’?”

“I thought you’d either arrive right at six or a bit late.”

“I keep my promises…”

With a weak voice, Anne slumps onto the stairs, puffing out her cheeks like a tired little pufferfish. She looks like a lifeless puppy stretched out in exhaustion.

“We’ll start the morning with farming—planting seeds, watering, then heading to Abel’s shop to sell the crops.”

“Every single day?”

“At least in the mornings.”

“I’ll help!”

“It’s fine. If you’re tired, you can nap while I work.”

“Nope. I came here today to work hard too!”

Before I can respond, Anne springs up energetically, holding out her hand toward me. Does she want seeds? I fill her hands generously, and she gazes up at me with bright, expectant eyes, silently asking what to do next.

“Do you know how to plant seeds?”

“Isn’t it just digging a hole and sticking them in?”

“Exactly. That works.”

It’s not difficult. Just a bit tough on the back.

I demonstrate first, digging a small hole, planting the seed, covering it with soil, and watering it. That’s all there is to it—one day’s worth of farming done.

Both beginners and experts alike follow this simple process fairly equally. This is why I never really get to utilize my farming-related knowledge and experience.

Anne watches carefully, then starts planting seeds herself. She divides the area roughly into sections, carefully placing each seed with surprising precision.

Today’s batch of seeds is quite substantial. For 1000 gold, I bought nearly 3500 seeds. As the scale of farming grows, it’s becoming clear that we’ll soon need automated equipment and systems. Manually planting seeds is surprisingly exhausting labor-intensive work.

This task doesn’t even contribute to leveling up farming—it’s purely back-breaking effort. But thinking of it as “planting money” helps ease the pain a little. After all, it’s one of the easiest ways to make the most money with minimal effort.

After planting the seeds, we water them. Since we only have one watering can, I take charge of the watering duties. Anne tried helping once but struggled with the weight of the can, wobbling dangerously before giving up.

“It’s about time we head to Abel’s shop, sell some crops, and grab breakfast. You didn’t skip breakfast, did you?”

“Huh? Of course not! You’re making breakfast, right?”

Her shameless confidence would normally annoy me, but there’s something convincing about her appearance. Standing with her hands on her hips and chin raised defiantly…

Does she realize how ridiculous she looks? Her pose doesn’t last long before she bursts into laughter, crumbling beside me as we prepare to head to Abel’s shop. There’s nothing special to bring—just the crops harvested this morning.

“Let’s eat after we return. Aren’t you hungry?”

“If I say I’m starving, will you feed me now?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you ask…?”

Anne pouts, puffing out her cheeks slightly.

“On the way, I can give you a slice of melon.”

“Melon? I love melons!”

Spreading her arms wide, she confidently demands the treat as if it’s hers by default. I drop a pre-cut piece of musk melon into her waiting palms. At 5 gold per piece, these fruits are considered luxurious, but I always keep a few slices stashed in my bag for such occasions. Gifts of expensive fruit are always appreciated.

“Eat while we walk.”

“Mmmph…”

Already cramming the melon into her mouth, Anne’s words come out muffled. Her face lights up with delight at its sweetness, looking more radiant than I’ve ever seen her before—a blooming spring flower.

With Anne happily munching on her melon, we head toward Abel’s shop. As usual, Abel is already busy preparing for the early opening. Spotting us, he waves and greets me warmly.

“Minho! Good morning. And Anne’s with you today?”

“Hi, Abel.”

“Hello. We’ve brought some garlic and musk melons today.”

“That’s great news! In fact, the melons I distributed yesterday were so well-received that word’s already spreading. Timing couldn’t be better. People are starting to reach out.”

“So the price for melons…”

“Yeah. Around 7 gold should be possible. They’re really taking off. Feels good to see your hard work pay off, huh?”

“Alright, I’ll sell them all.”

“Come inside. Let’s check out the goods.”

Abel leads us into his tidy shop, where items are neatly arranged as always. Slowly pulling out the garlic and musk melons from my bag, the spicy aroma and sweet fragrance gently fill the space.

“Hmm… Looks excellent. How many do you have?”

“400 garlics. 200 melons.”

“Wow, lots of melons. Great, great!”

Abel retreats into the back to fetch the payment. He eventually hands over 1720 gold—an appropriate amount indeed.

The sight of the gold surprises Anne slightly as we leave.

On our way back, she nudges my side curiously.

“Does farming really make this much money?”

“Rare or trendy crops tend to fetch higher prices.”

“I had no idea. Musk melons are so expensive!”

Anne beams with newfound appreciation.

“Are you going to ask for compensation? You’ve already eaten the expensive melon.”

“You gave it to me to eat. You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“I trust you!”

Walking together proves to be quite enjoyable. Simply exchanging conversation keeps things lively and engaging. Filling otherwise idle moments makes traveling worthwhile.

Back home, I start preparing lunch. With a guest present, roasting plain meat seemed too casual, so I opted for ready-made dishes from the shop alongside grilled meat as side dishes.

Anne devoured her meal enthusiastically, likely due to the morning’s activities and helping out with farming. Despite the modest menu, she ate heartily, clearly having expended a lot of energy.

“What’s next?”

While I washed the dishes, Anne chattered excitedly beside me. Her voice resembled birds chirping cheerfully in the forest.

“I need to tidy up the yard and expand the available farmland. We’ll need to work diligently for that.”

“But didn’t you already do a lot? Is it still not enough?”

“Not until we can fully utilize the entire space.”

“Wow… Are we clearing all of this?”

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy.”

“It was fun managing Luna’s daily gigs…”

“Daily gigs?”

“Yeah. Luna has a great singing voice, so she occasionally performs around town. She might be the most famous person in our village?”

Like an entertainer, perhaps. I vaguely recall meeting her briefly during introductions; her vibrant presence left a faint impression.

“Alright. While I handle the yard cleanup, you can do this.”

“More seed planting?”

“If you do well, I’ll pay you. How much did you earn as Luna’s manager?”

“50 gold! Isn’t that a lot?”

“I’ll match that—50 gold. Get to work.”

“Roger that!”

At the mention of payment, Anne’s eyes gleam with renewed vigor. Indeed, people seem to work harder when properly motivated—just like how I’ve become addicted to seeing tangible results every day.

Armed with an axe and pickaxe, I set out to clean up the yard. Meanwhile, Anne hunches over, tapping her lower back as she diligently plants seeds.

The rhythmic sounds of chopping wood—”thud-thud”—and mining rocks—”clang-clang”—fill the air.

Working with tools heats up my body quickly under the sun, sweat trickling down as I labor.

After working under the blazing sun for a while, the front yard finally looks neat and spacious. Now we have room to build greenhouses and barns.

Sneaking a glance at Anne, I notice she’s grown visibly fatigued, her movements sluggish. She must have exhausted herself planting seeds.

Approaching her quietly, I observe strands of her golden hair damp with sweat. She must have worked hard.

“Why does this never end…?”

Anne lies half-slumped against the steps, mirroring how I looked on my first day here.

Back then, our roles were reversed—I was the one collapsed, unable to gather my senses, while Anne offered me a refreshing drink.

“Want some water?”

“Is it cold?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah…”

Anne gulps down the icy water greedily. The liquid spills onto her clothes, already soaked with sweat, making it impossible to distinguish between water and perspiration. Spring might not officially be summer, but its heat can still pack a punch.

Clearly unused to such physical labor, it’s no wonder she feels drained.

On my first day, I too struggled, gasping for breath before collapsing halfway through tasks. Comparing that to my current state, I’ve come a long way. It’s oddly satisfying.

In just what feels like a short span of time, my progress has been remarkable.

“Any other plans?”

“There’s still work to be done, but it’s not too strenuous. Today, I planned to go fishing. Judging by the time, we still have plenty left. Normally, I finish around nighttime.”

“Why do you work so hard…?”

Anne asks with a weary expression, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Hmm… Why do I work so hard?

“Just habit, I guess.”

“Just?”

“Doing it feels rewarding somehow. Over time, it becomes easier, and finding joy in it motivates me further. I guess you could say I’ve found my groove.”

“I see…”

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like it. Take a break.”

“Yeah…”

Working hard. Of course, part of it is to return home eventually. But another reason is the daily sense of achievement. The satisfaction of growth and improvement keeps me driven. Framing it this way, it’s not just about returning home—it’s also about embracing the journey itself.

Anne picks up where she left off, continuing to plant seeds. By noon, the work concludes.

The exhausted Anne recovers with the sweet, refreshing musk melon I provide. Meanwhile, I prepare for my trip to the lakeside for fishing, naturally grabbing the chair Anne kindly prepared.

“Are we going fishing?”

“Yeah. Feeling better?”

“Much. Let’s go!”

Thus, we head to the lake, chatting animatedly about trivial topics. Fishing alone feels completely different from fishing with company. Having experienced it once before, this second time feels even more distinct.

Anne takes turns with the fishing rod, catching some fish. We chat, eat dinner, and as evening approaches, her head begins to droop. Her eyelids grow heavy as twilight envelops us, the moon slowly rising above.

Though a bit early, I decide to wrap things up. She managed to stick with me longer than expected, and her efforts deserve recognition.

“Let’s head back.”

“My legs hurt…”

“Can’t walk?”

“Carry me, please.”

“Carry you?”

“Yeah.”

Stretching her arms out, she positions herself to climb onto my back. Half-asleep and thoroughly spent from the day’s exertions, I comply willingly.

Anne’s warm embrace settles onto my back, her scent not unpleasant but rather fresh and spring-like—her signature aroma, perhaps.

The return journey is quiet. By the time we reach Anne’s house, she’s fallen into a peaceful slumber.

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