When the first thin rays of morning light stingily pierced the gaps in the high windows of the Temporary Archive, driving away a bit of the gloom, Jingyi had already been bent over her desk working for a long time. The scribbled symbiosis draft from last night was being meticulously recopied onto a relatively tough piece of birchbark paper with the finest strokes. She even dug out her prized mineral pigments, ground into powder:
The cornstalks were painted in a deep, full cyan-green, standing straight and tall, brimming with vigor.
The leaves of the purple greens were a soft purplish-green, arranged in double rows, tight and dense.
The underground roots were traced in dark brown lines, intertwining and tangled in a complex web.
Most striking were the golden arrows representing the flow of nutrients, like the veins of life, clearly pointing from the root nodules of the purple greens to the developed root system of the corn.
Sumeru Sea-buckthorn was also added, dotted in sand-brown between the double rows of purple greens, with its root system similarly indicated by brown lines, labeled alongside with "drought-resistant and sand-fixing."
Limeng's periodic coordinate axis was streamlined and optimized before being placed in a corner, with key time points and nutrient peaks marked in cinnabar red, clear at a glance.
Beneath the diagram, she had written the core essence in neat, regular script: "Jiahe Symbiosis Technique · Improved Version: Tall crops (corn) anchor the soil, short legumes (purple greens/sea-buckthorn) enrich the fields, crop rotation in order, double harvest (grain/vegetables) in sight."
This diagram, condensing the painstaking efforts of them both, radiated a rustic yet steadfast vitality in the morning light.
The morning mist had not yet fully dispersed, draping the field ridges in a hazy, pale golden veil. Standing atop a slightly elevated mound at the edge of the field, facing the rising sun, Limeng held up high the "Jiahe Symbiosis Improved Schematic Diagram" meticulously drawn by Jingyi. The brightly colored diagram was exceptionally eye-catching in the morning light, instantly drawing the gaze of nearby laborers.
"Look over here!" Limeng's voice was loud and clear, carrying the engineer's characteristic ability to cut through complexity and make things simple, instantly overriding the noise of the fields. He pointed his finger firmly at the striking golden arrows on the diagram:
"Look at the roots of this corn! And look at the roots of the purple greens—aren't they growing very close together? Don't they look like the purple greens' roots are quietly 'feeding' the corn roots?" He deliberately used the most straightforward, down-to-earth analogy. "This 'food' is the good stuff that makes the cornstalks thicker and stronger! With more food, the stalks get sturdy, and the ears they grow can be *this* big!" With his other hand, he exaggeratedly gestured a size far exceeding a normal ear of corn, drawing a gasp mixed with astonishment and anticipation from the crowd.
The crowd began to gather.
Shaffer, a herdsman from Mondstadt who was accustomed to the vastness of the grasslands and the straightforward nature of grazing, tilted his head back and looked at the brightly colored diagram filled with unfamiliar symbols and lines, his thick eyebrows knitted tightly together, his face bearing deep confusion. "Roots... feeding?" He scratched his messy hair and asked the companion beside him in a low voice, "Can these lines on the drawing actually be of any use?" Yet in his gaze, alongside the confusion, was a strong sense of curiosity ignited by the plump corn illustration and Limeng's resolute tone.
The farmwives from Liyue crowded toward the front of the group, pointing at each other and discussing in low voices:
"Did you see that? The purple greens are planted in double rows! And they even squeezed in sea-buckthorn?"
"Root entwined with root... Is this what the ancestors meant by 'earth energies connecting'?"
"And those golden arrows... Does that mean what's under the purple greens' roots can really fertilize the corn field?"
An old farmer with a face full of wrinkles squinted for a long time, then suddenly slapped his thigh, a sharp gleam bursting from his cloudy eyes: "Brilliant! Isn't this what the old folks call 'borrowing force to strike force'? The purple greens and sea-buckthorn are that 'force'! Just think how much fertilizer that saves us!" Several farmwives nearby nodded repeatedly, the faint glint of practical hope in their eyes gradually turning into eager sparks of ambition. Land and harvest were the language carved into their bones; they understood the hope in this diagram.
Practice is the best teacher, and also the most powerful weapon for dissolving estrangement.
Not far away, by an old tree stump, Uncle Chen, the veteran bamboo craftsman from Liyue with calloused, thick-jointed fingers, was weaving with unusual agility. A piece of green bamboo made a crisp splitting sound in his hands and was swiftly shaved into even bamboo strips. "Watch closely!" He spoke in a loud voice, deliberately demonstrating to several Mondstadt refugees sitting around him, "The outer rind of the bamboo must be scraped clean! Not a bit of green skin can remain, otherwise the bugs will smell it and come running!" With a small scraping knife, he deftly shaved away the green skin on the surface of the bamboo strip, revealing the pale-yellow, tough fibers inside. "The latch," he picked up a processed bamboo strip and gestured, "cut it on a slant, shave it to a sharp oblique face, so the bugs can crawl in, but want to get out? No way in hell! It's the exact same principle as catching gophers back in our hometown!" The Mondstadt people sitting around, especially a few strong young lads who used to be in charge of guarding herds and harbored a deep hatred for pests, learned with exceptional seriousness, clumsily yet diligently imitating Uncle Chen's movements.
"Uncle Chen, this craftsmanship of yours is top-notch!" A Mondstadt lad named Fogel, having finally managed to weave a crooked yet fully formed bug trap, lifted it up excitedly, "Later on, when we catch plenty of bugs, we'll roast them for you to go with your wine!"
Uncle Chen laughed heartily, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out: "Good lad! You've got aptitude! Never mind the wine for now, protecting the seedlings comes first!"
On the grassy slope on the other side, Grandma Bauer, an elderly Mondstadt herdsman, was pointing at a few clumps of grass growing stubbornly and mixed together in the barren soil, loudly imparting experience from the land of wind and freedom: "Look closely! That cluster of Windwheel Asters growing right beside the Mist Flowers, see it? With them around, the grass all around grows exceptionally lush!" She squatted down, her rough fingers gently parting the grass blades, "Plant them mixed, and the land doesn't get tired! Just like our mixed herds of cattle and sheep in Mondstadt—each eats its own grass, neither fights the other, and the fertility of the land is preserved instead!" Several Liyue craftsmen responsible for grassland restoration squatted beside her, nodding repeatedly and frantically jotting down this simple yet wise experience in their notebooks. A young Liyue craftsman couldn't help asking, "Grandma Bauer, if we plant pasture grass, what's best to mix it with?"
Grandma Bauer grinned, revealing a gap where a front tooth was missing: "Good question! With Sweet Flower! Sweet Flowers attract bees and butterflies, and with more bees around, the grass seeds nearby spread much faster!"
When the first batch of Mondstadt people, holding homemade and perhaps somewhat crude yet thoroughly practical bamboo bug traps, actually caught the pests nibbling on the corn seedlings, enthusiastic cheers rang out in the fields; when Liyue craftsmen tried inter-sowing Windwheel Aster and Sweet Flower seeds in the planned pasture, seeing faster greening and more vigorous growth a few days later, genuine smiles appeared on their faces—those invisible walls of estrangement quietly erected due to disparities in "Grain Ticket" grades and regional backgrounds seemed truly to have been blown loose and thinned out by the wind carrying the scent of soil and fresh grass sweeping across the field ridges.
Standing a bit further away, Limeng watched the interacting crowds in the distance, watched Uncle Chen coaching Fogel, and watched Grandma Bauer and the Liyue craftsmen squatting on the grassy slope in discussion. He turned his head and, to Jingyi beside him who was carefully tucking the precious "Jiahe Symbiosis Improved Schematic Diagram" into the cloth bag at her chest, said in a low voice imbued with an insight into the essence of things: "Food is the root of survival. But only the food grown by sweating together, exploring together, and planting together in this land—that root can sink the deepest and hold the firmest, where no one can ever pull it up."
Jingyi nodded gently, her fingers unconsciously brushing the outline of the cloth bag at her chest, feeling the toughness of the diagram inside. Behind her glasses, her gaze crossed the bustling crowd and cast toward the more distant, barren, and vast expanse of land. Between the thorny path of survival represented by the Serenitea Pot, the brief agony of division brought by the Tri-Color Grain Ticket, and the lush vitality quietly sprouting from the land beneath their feet through wisdom and cooperation, the path forged stubbornly forward amidst the intertwining of chaos and hope. And what lay in the next step—deeper soil or a steeper cliff? No one knew, but the diagram in her hands and the roots beneath her feet gave them the courage to keep moving forward.