Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

Before dawn, the door to Liu San Niang's house creaked open a crack.

Li Xiong emerged from the house, carrying a bulging burlap sack on his shoulder. The sack wasn't tied tightly, revealing half of a dark red animal horn—the horn of an Ironclaw Lynx, which he had casually cut from the field after the chaos that night.

"Did that kid really say that?" Li Xiong lowered his voice and turned to ask Liu San Niang inside the door.

Liu Sanniang leaned against the door frame, wearing Li Xiong's outer robe, revealing half of her snow-white shoulder: "Widow Li told me herself, how could it be false? Chen Yuan took her land deeds, saying he wanted to irrigate them uniformly."

"Unified irrigation?" Li Xiong scoffed. "Eight acres of land, divided among three families. What can a mere Qi Refining Level 3 brat use to irrigate it?"

He said he broke through to the second level of the Spirit Rain Technique in three days.

Li Xiong paused, then slowly turned around: "Breaking through to the second level in three days?"

"That's what Widow Li said."

"Bullshit." Li Xiong threw the sack on the ground. "It took me five years to reach the second level. He thinks three days? Unless..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his expression changed.

Liu San Niang came out of the door and whispered in his ear: "Unless he has some secret technique, or... he ate something he shouldn't have."

Li Xiong stared in the direction of Chen Yuan's house in the distance. In the morning mist, the outline of that dilapidated wooden house was faintly visible.

"I'll go check it out tonight." He picked up the sack. "If there really is a secret method..."

"We have to be careful," Liu Sanniang said. "Old Zhao also gave him the land deed. That old man is shrewd; he wouldn't have staked his entire savings if he wasn't confident."

"The old man has lost his mind." Li Xiong spat. "Eight acres of wasteland, you think you can grow anything in twenty days? Even a god couldn't save it."

"But what if she survives?" Liu San Niang asked softly.

Li Xiong remained silent.

As the morning mist slowly dissipated, three figures appeared on the distant ridge of the field—Chen Yuan walked in front, with Old Zhao and Widow Li following behind.

The three men, carrying farm tools on their shoulders and cloth bags in their hands, walked towards Old Zhao's field.

"Let's go." Li Xiong picked up the sack. "Let's follow them and see."

---

"This soil won't do."

Old Zhao squatted on the edge of his field, grabbing a handful of soil and rubbing it in his hands. The soil was grayish, loose, and fine sand seeped through his fingers.

Chen Yuan also squatted down and activated the spiritual plant status warning.

The following text appeared in red: 【Soil Pollution Level: Moderate. Residual demonic energy, spiritual energy disorder 37%. Deep purification or abandonment recommended.】

"It can be saved," he said.

"How can we save it?" Old Zhao scattered the soil back onto the ground. "I used the fertile soil powder, and you also watered it with spiritual rain. The foul air is still there, and the spiritual energy is as chaotic as a pot of porridge. Nothing can grow in this kind of soil."

Chen Yuan didn't reply, but took out a small cloth bag from his pocket. Inside the bag was dark red pyrometallurgical powder, which gleamed with a metallic luster in the morning light.

"You're using this?" Old Zhao's brows furrowed deeply. "Firestone powder does stimulate mutations, that's for living spiritual plants! This is soil! Dead soil!"

"Foul air belongs to Yin, and fiery air belongs to Yang." Chen Yuan grabbed a handful of fire ore powder and sprinkled it evenly on a small patch of soil in front of him. "Let's try using Yang to overcome Yin."

"Try it my ass!" Old Zhao stood up, his voice rising. "Chen Yuan, I know you're anxious, and so am I. But we can't act recklessly! Burning the soil with fire ore powder will burn away the last bit of spiritual energy!"

Widow Li stood aside, holding her child, not daring to interrupt.

Chen Yuan looked up at Old Zhao: "Old Zhao, how much spiritual energy do you think this soil still has?"

"At most... 20%."

"If it's burned dry, how much is left?"

"Less than 10%"

"What can you plant with 10% spiritual energy?" Chen Yuan asked.

Old Zhao choked.

Chen Yuan stood up and patted the soil off his hands: "With only one-tenth of the spiritual energy, nothing will grow well. But if we clear away the impurities, even if only half a tenth of the spiritual energy remains, at least the soil will be clean. Clean soil can be used to cultivate new plants."

"How do I care for it? Is twenty days enough to prepare the soil?"

"That's not enough," Chen Yuan said. "So we don't nourish the soil, we nourish the roots."

He poured a few improved yellow-sprout rice seeds from his cloth bag and spread them in his palm: "These seeds have roots that are 30% longer than ordinary yellow-sprout rice, allowing them to absorb nutrients over a wider area. As long as the soil is clean, even if the spiritual energy is thin, they can draw nutrients from deeper and farther places."

Old Zhao leaned over to examine the seeds. Indeed, the rice seeds were a size larger than usual, with fine golden veins on their surface.

"Where did it come from?"

"I bought it from Baicaotang, for ten spirit stones and forty catties," Chen Yuan said. "Manager Liao said it's an improved variety from the Eastern Wilderness, tolerant of poor soil, and with a well-developed root system."

"The Eastern Wilderness..." Old Zhao's expression changed. "You dare use things from there? The demonic path is active frequently; who knows what's mixed into the seeds!"

"It's better than waiting to die." Chen Yuan carefully put away the seeds. "Old Zhao, your choice: use the fire ore powder to cleanse the impurities and try your luck with the improved seed; or hold onto this meager amount of spiritual energy, where nothing will grow, and we'll have to wait for Fan Datong to come and collect people in twenty days?"

Old Zhao stared at the patch of soil sprinkled with pyrometallurgical powder. A morning breeze blew, making the red powder stand out starkly against the gray earth.

After a long silence, he sighed heavily: "...You try it."

Chen Yuan nodded and made a hand seal.

He activated the second level of the Spirit Rain Technique, and a gentle drizzle began to fall. The temperature of the rainwater was adjusted, and when it landed on the fire ore powder, faint red steam immediately rose.

Steam seeped into the soil, making a slight hissing sound.

Old Zhao squatted down, staring intently. He had farmed all his life and had seen all kinds of fertilizers and pesticides, but he had never seen fire ore powder mixed with spirit rain to cleanse the foul air before.

The red steam lasted for about fifteen minutes before gradually dissipating.

Chen Yuan grabbed a handful of processed soil. The soil was still gray, but the texture had changed—it had become slightly sticky, and there was a bit of a gel-like feel between the particles.

Spiritual Plant Status Alert Update: [Soil Pollution Level: Mild. Spiritual Energy Disorder Level: 12%. Low-level spiritual plants can be planted.]

"It's done," he said.

Old Zhao also grabbed a handful of soil, smelled it, and then rubbed it apart with his fingers.

"...The foul smell has faded." His voice trembled slightly. "It really has faded."

Chen Yuan handed him the cloth bag: "Old Zhao, you're in charge of the two acres on the west side. Sprinkle a thin layer of fire ore powder each time, and I'll use spiritual rain to help. Fellow Daoist Li—"

Widow Li quickly stepped forward: "Fellow Daoist Chen, what are your instructions?"

"Take the child home and water all the golden thread ginseng plants in my yard. Keep the water temperature slightly hot and water them thoroughly, but don't touch the two tall ones."

"it is good."

Widow Li hurriedly left with her child in her arms.

Old Zhao watched her retreating figure and muttered, "Her husband died in the mine two years ago; they never even found all his remains. If she gets conscripted again..."

"So we have to make sure the crops survive," Chen Yuan interrupted him. "Eight acres of land, not a single acre can be wasted."

The two started working.

Fire ore powder was scattered row by row, and spiritual rain poured down in bursts. Red steam rose from the fields, looking from afar like small fires.

They worked until the sun was high in the sky before they finished treating half an acre of land.

Chen Yuan's spiritual energy in his dantian was almost depleted. He sat cross-legged on the edge of the field, took out the last two spirit stones, held them in his hand, and closed his eyes to recover.

Old Zhao squatted to the side, smoking his pipe, the embers flickering.

"Young Chen," the old man suddenly spoke, "your Spirit Rain Technique... really only reached the second level in three days?"

Chen Yuan opened his eyes: "Old Zhao doesn't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe it," Old Zhao exhaled a puff of smoke, "it's that I'm afraid. There's an old saying in the cultivation world: 'Where there's an anomaly, there's something fishy going on.' You broke through two levels in three days, either you're a genius, or... you've gone astray."

"Can't you tell which path I took, Mr. Zhao?"

"I can't tell," Old Zhao shook his head. "That's why I'm afraid."

Chen Yuan was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't have any secret techniques, nor have I taken any evil paths. It's just... that I see things more clearly."

"See clearly what?"

"Observe the direction of the spiritual energy, the condition of the soil, and the needs of the plants." Chen Yuan pointed to the half-acre of land that had been treated in front of him. "For example, in this piece of soil, the foul energy mainly gathers in the top three inches. When the fire ore powder heats the spiritual rain, the steam seeps downwards, just enough to reach a depth of three inches. Any deeper would be a waste, and any shallower would be useless."

Old Zhao stared at him: "How did you know it was three inches?"

Chen Yuan paused for a moment: "...I feel..."

"Feel?" Old Zhao chuckled, his wrinkles deepening. "Kid, you think you can fool me?"

Chen Yuan fell silent.

Footsteps could be heard in the distance.