《Greeting: 《Good Morning》》

《Weather Update: 《Today's Weather: Clear Skies》》

《News Bulletin: 《A traveling merchant was spotted near the old bridge. He may reach town shortly.》》

《Previous Chapter: 《None. Thus begins the start of the story.》》

《Market Summary: 《Eggs - 45, Potatoes - 12, Tomatoes - 16, Onions - 10》》

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The carriage rolled along a dirt path. Its old wheels creaked with each bump.

Anya sat inside, a small bundle of personal items on her lap. She tried not to think too hard about what lay ahead.

She had left behind a quiet life to claim something that once belonged to her grandmother. The driver, a man she barely knew, guided the horse. He said nothing, focused on the way forward.

A narrow lane of trees gave way to open fields. Dry grass and scattered stones offered no welcome.

A low gate, unpainted and leaning, marked a boundary. This was Honeydew Farms. It did not impress.

Anya told herself it only needed work. Any patch of earth could yield something if tended carefully. She stepped down from the carriage and paid the driver with a handful of coins. He nodded and urged his horse back toward town.

She watched him leave until the dust settled. Then she walked toward the farmhouse.

It stood a short way from the gate. The walls looked old. The roof sagged in places.

A small porch leaned on a single post. The windows were shuttered, a few boards loose. Still, it was hers now. Her grandmother had willed it to her.

She pushed open the front door. A cramped main room and tiny kitchen greeted her.

A table, a few chairs, and an old trunk stood by a wall. A wood-burning stove. A shelf with chipped plates. It was enough for now.

Anya stepped inside and set down her bundle. She had come with a few basics: clothes, a small diary, and a simple old medallion that once belonged to her grandmother.

She would make do. She paused and listened. Silence. No voices. No laughter. The farm waited.

She opened a window to let in fresh air. Outside, overgrown fields stretched before her. Weeds choked what should have been neat rows.

A broken fence ran across one side. A creaky well stood at the corner of the yard, its bucket rope frayed.

She would need tools. She would need seeds. She would need coin and patience.

《COIN: 00050》was what remained after paying the driver. She hoped it would last until her first harvest.

A quick search of the house revealed a musty old chest. Inside, she found a few odds and ends:

A half-used spool of twine. An old watering can with dents. A cloth bag of unknown seeds, no label. Just seeds.

She placed them on the table and wondered what they might grow into.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Anya turned and opened it.

An older woman stood there, leaning on a cane. Gray hair tied back with twine. A friendly face with a small smile.

"Name's Beatrice," the woman said. "I heard you were coming. Your grandmother was known around here. She left this place to you. Guess you know that already."

Anya nodded. "Yes. I just arrived."

Beatrice glanced over the fields. "Not much to look at now, but I've seen worse. You'll want to clear weeds. Get some seeds planted if you can."

"The soil's not bad under the mess. Stop by Westshire when you can. Buy proper seeds at the store. Tools too, if you have coin."

"The blacksmith, Crispin, might help if your tools break."

"Thank you," Anya said. She was glad for at least one friendly face.

Beatrice eyed the old watering can Anya held. "That thing might still work, but don't expect miracles. Check your stamina while you work. Pushing too hard is no good."

"Also, keep track of what you plant. The general store changes prices now and then. You might earn decent coin if you time it right."

Anya tried to take it all in. Her grandmother had spoken of Westshire: a small, steady place. Shops, a mayor, fields of onions and wheat.

She would need to go there soon. For now, she should at least start clearing a patch of land.

Beatrice tapped her cane on the step. "I'll leave you to it. If you need advice, I'm in town. The store's not far. Just follow the main road."

With that, the old woman hobbled off, slow but steady.

Anya returned inside and put on a pair of worn gloves she found at the bottom of the chest. They were big but serviceable.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

She stepped outside again. The day was bright, the air dry.

She moved to the first patch of weeds near the porch. Pulling at them handful by handful, she tossed them aside. The work was slow.

After an hour, her arms ached. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 80/100》

She wiped sweat from her forehead and moved on. Another cluster of weeds fell. She uncovered a small patch of soil.

It looked rough but not hopeless. After another hour, she had cleared a narrow strip. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 70/100》

A rustling from behind the farmhouse startled her. She walked around the corner and saw a scarecrow leaning at an odd angle.

Its straw head lolled to one side. The clothes on it were old and faded.

She poked it lightly. Nothing happened. Rumors said that scarecrows sometimes moved at night. She hoped that was just a story.

By midday, she decided to rest. She had no real meal prepared, just a bit of bread and dried fruit from her journey.

After eating, she felt a bit steadier. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 75/100》 A small recovery from a short break.

Anya considered the seeds found in the chest. She could plant them in the cleared patch.

She wasn't sure what they were. She decided to risk it.

Digging small holes with her hands, she placed a seed in each, then covered them with soil. She took the battered watering can.

The well's bucket rope looked risky, but she managed to lower it and haul up a small amount of water. She carefully poured water over the patch. The soil darkened with moisture. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 70/100》

A faint voice from inside the farmhouse caught her attention. She stepped inside.

On the kitchen table, an old cookbook she had found behind some plates flipped open on its own. She had not noticed it before. It must have belonged to her grandmother.

The pages were yellowed. Ink lines formed words she did not recognize.

Leaning in, she saw a faint glow at the edges of the text. The letters shifted until she could read them:

"Welcome, child of the Hayes line. The seeds you've sown may surprise you. Tend them well. When they grow, bring a sample to these pages. Then I shall teach you simple recipes."

"First task: grow something and harvest it. Feed yourself. Improve your stamina. Then return here."

Anya stepped back. The cookbook was... alive, in some way. She had heard odd tales. Perhaps this book held secrets.

For now, she had a goal: grow something. Simple enough. She did not have much else to do. Farming was why she came.

Outside, time passed. The sun remained steady overhead.

She pulled more weeds, tossed stones aside, and straightened the broken fence posts as best she could. It took effort.

The fence was beyond a quick fix, but at least she could keep some sort of boundary line. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 60/100》

A distant sound drew her eyes toward the road. A figure approached, pushing a wheelbarrow.

As they neared, she saw it was Crispin, the blacksmith. Tall, with broad shoulders and simple clothes stained by soot.

He paused at the gate and gave a small nod. "You must be the new owner," he said. "I'm Crispin. Heard you might need tools at some point."

He glanced at her watering can and gloves. "If that can or any tools break, bring them by my forge in town. I'll fix them or make better ones, if you have coin."

Reaching into the wheelbarrow, he pulled out a small iron spade. "Here. Just found this spare. You can have it."

Anya accepted the spade. 《INVENTORY UPDATED: Iron Spade (5/10 Durability)》 It would help with planting and digging.

"Thank you," she said. She appreciated the kindness. Crispin just shrugged and continued on his way, heading into the fields beyond.

Alone again, Anya decided to poke around the barn. It was half-collapsed, roof sagging.

Inside, a musty smell greeted her. Old wooden beams and dusty corners.

She found a coil of rope, a broken rake, and a few old boards. On a top shelf, she saw an old sack.

Pulling it down released a cloud of dust. Inside were three onion bulbs. They looked shriveled, but maybe they would still grow.

She brought them outside and planted them beside the mystery seeds. 《SEEDS: Onion(3)》

A sound of laughter drifted from the road. Two townsfolk passed by, chatting.

They wore simple clothes and carried baskets. Glancing at her, they nodded. She offered a small wave.

After they passed, she remembered Beatrice's words: she should visit the store. But it was late afternoon now. Perhaps in the morning.

She wanted to finish clearing a bit more land first. 《STAMINA UPDATED: 50/100》

After another hour, her arms felt heavy. She had cleared a modest section of weeds. Now she had a small place for planting.

She had also found a few stones that might be arranged into a simple stepping path. She tried it. The stones wobbled, but it was better than stepping in mud.

As the sun dipped, a faint glow appeared at the edge of her fields. Squinting, she saw small, winged shapes darting near the weeds.

Pixies, perhaps. They hovered low, eyeing the seeds.

She had heard these creatures liked to steal seeds or nip at leaves. Picking up a twig, she waved it gently. The pixies scattered.

Maybe I'll need a scarecrow or some talisman to keep them away, she thought. She made a note to ask someone in town about it.

A knock at the door startled her again. A new voice greeted her. "Hello? Anyone home?"

Anya opened the door to see a young woman with braided hair and a satchel slung over her shoulder. She introduced herself as Alice, a traveling scholar.

"I heard stories about a special farm and a strange cookbook," Alice said. "I've come to see if the rumors are true. You wouldn't happen to have a cookbook that moves on its own?"

Anya hesitated. This was sudden. She admitted she did have an old book.

Alice's eyes widened. "May I see it? I won't take it, I promise. I only want to study it. Maybe share knowledge if I learn something."

Anya was not sure. But Alice seemed harmless. Still, the book belonged to her grandmother once. It felt private.

"Not yet," she said. "I need time. Let me see what it can do first."

Alice nodded. "I'll be in Westshire for a while. If you change your mind, find me at the inn. I might have information that can help."

She gave a friendly wave and left. Anya closed the door, thinking about this new arrival. Strange. But at least now she knew she was not imagining the cookbook's odd behavior.

Evening shadows grew long. She still had no real bed prepared. The old farmhouse had a straw mattress. It would do for now.

She decided to call it a day. Tomorrow, she would head into Westshire, get proper seeds, and learn more.

Before resting, she checked what she had. Her coin was low. She must earn more by selling crops when they matured.

She placed the iron spade by the door. Her watering can on the table.

The few seeds she had planted outside would need watering again in the morning.

She thought about what came next. Meeting Crispin again, maybe. Visiting the store run by Colette, if she remembered correctly.

Finding Odile, the herbalist, might help with plant health. She heard someone mention a mayor named Lambert. Perhaps he would give tasks that paid a bit.

She needed coin, after all. For now, she took stock of her day:

She had arrived in the morning with 50 coin. She had cleared some land, planted a few unknown seeds plus three onion bulbs.

She had gained a spade and discovered the cookbook. She had met Beatrice, Crispin, and Alice.

She had learned that this place, though quiet, held small surprises.

The moon rose behind the barn. A gentle breeze moved through the fields.

Anya set her shoes by the door and lay on the old bed. Her muscles ached, but it felt good to have done something meaningful.

She would wake early. The farm needed a lot of work.

Maybe one day, these fields would be full of healthy crops. Maybe the townsfolk would recognize her efforts.

Maybe her grandmother would be proud.

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End of Chapter Status

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《STAMINA: 50/100》 《COIN: 00050》 《SEEDS: Onion(3) in ground, Unknown Seeds(?)》 《TOOLS: Old Watering Can (5/10 Durability), Iron Spade (5/10 Durability)》 《INVENTORY: A few stones, some rope, no harvested crops yet》