The next morning, after a quick breakfast of leftover boar meat and the last of the dried herbs, Luo Feng and the same group of strong young villagers—Kael among them—returned to the freshly dug pond. The empty pit waited under the bright sun, its clay sides still damp with dew. Chief Haru had come along too, leaning on his walking stick, curious to see what the quiet traveler had planned next.
Luo Feng stood at the edge of the pond and looked at the gathered faces. "Now we need water and fish to live," he said simply, his voice calm and sure. "The pond is ready. It will store water for the fields in the dry season and give us fresh fish every week."
Chief Haru scratched his head, frowning at the wide hole. "But where will we get the water from? If we fetch it from the river with pots and buckets, carrying it back and forth… it would take years or more to fill even half of this. We don't have that kind of time or strength."
Luo Feng smiled his gentle farmer's smile. "We won't carry it with pots. Bring out and carry your sharp knives—big and small. All of you."
The young people looked at each other, then hurried to fetch every blade the village owned. Together they walked the short distance to the riverbank where the water ran clear and fast. Luo Feng showed them how to choose the thickest, straightest bamboo stalks growing along the edge. With quick, steady cuts they chopped them down, then sliced them into long sections. Working side by side, they hollowed out the centers and fitted the pieces together end to end, creating wide bamboo pipes big enough for a large fish to swim through without touching the sides. They sealed every joint with clay and strips of bark, making them watertight and strong.
Step by step they carried the growing pipe back toward the village, adding new sections as they went—connecting, testing, reinforcing—until the long bamboo channel stretched all the way from the river to the pond. The work took the whole morning, but no one complained. Kael grinned the entire time, sweat on his brow, pride in his eyes.
When the final section was lowered into place at the pond's edge, Luo Feng gave a single nod. "Open it."
They lifted the river-end of the pipe. Clear, clean water rushed in at once, rushing through the bamboo like a living stream. It poured into the pond in a sparkling waterfall, filling the bottom within minutes. And it did not come alone—silver fish of every size, big and small, were swept along with the current, tumbling happily into their new home. The pond began to shimmer with life almost instantly.
Everyone stood smiling, eyes wide with wonder. Children who had followed from the village clapped and cheered. Chief Haru dropped his walking stick and fell to his knees beside the pond, tears running down his weathered cheeks.
"Luo Feng," he said, voice shaking, "without you we would have stayed hungry, eating grass and living poorly forever. You have given us hope we never thought we would see again. Thank you… thank you from every soul in Eden Village."
Luo Feng placed a hand on the chief's shoulder, his young face calm and kind. "Don't worry about those things now," he said softly. "The past is gone. Look at the water. Look at the fish. Now the village will have food more than we could ever finish… and the same goes for water."
The bamboo pipe kept singing with the steady flow of the river. The pond rose higher, alive with flashing silver scales. In the nearby fields the first green shoots of the new crops were already pushing through the soil, guarded by the herbs he had taught them to use.
Miya stood at the edge of the crowd, watching Luo Feng with shining eyes and a heart that felt too full to speak. The whole village breathed easier that day, the promise of abundance finally within reach—all because a quiet traveler with secrets in his Storage Bag and skills no one could explain had decided to stay.