Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

"At the third quarter of the hour of Chou (1:45 AM), you're gathering a crowd to cause trouble and illegally refining prohibited drugs—do you think this shantytown is a lawless zone? Are you planning a rebellion?"

The sound crashed down like rolling thunder, drowning out all the noise in the shed.

The second airship tore through the low-hanging clouds. Its hull was more than twice the size of Su Wanqing's, and its entire body was a bluish-gold color with a cold, hard metallic texture.

The bow of the ship was engraved with the cloud pattern emblem of the Flying Feather Sect, which reflected a chilling light under the moonlight.

There are three array flags on each side of the ship, with intricate spirit-gathering runes embroidered on them. They move on their own even without wind, fluttering loudly.

Lu Feng was standing at the bow of the boat.

The royal blue brocade robe was embroidered with flowing cloud patterns in silver thread, and a white jade belt was tied around the waist. In the center of the belt, a green jade pendant shimmered with a warm and gentle light.

He stood with his hands behind his back, chin slightly raised, looking down at the thatched hut as if he were looking at a nest of ants.

Standing side by side behind him were four inner disciples—all dressed in white robes with blue patterns, their auras as deep as a still pool, all at the late stage of Qi Refining.

The four people stood in positions that subtly corresponded to the Four Symbols Formation, their energy intertwined, forming a hidden killing formation.

The flying boat hovered, casting a huge shadow that covered the entire thatched hut and the surrounding area for ten feet.

The edges of the shadows cut through the moonlight, and the boundary between light and shadow had an eerie gray-blue hue.

Lu Feng jumped down, and when he landed, the hem of his brocade robe swayed slightly, without a speck of dust sticking to his skin.

He first nodded to Su Wanqing, his tone familiar yet deliberately distant: "Fellow Daoist Su is here too."

Su Wanqing returned the greeting calmly: "Fellow Daoist Lu."

Lu Feng then slowly scanned the shed.

His gaze swept over Yin Jiu, his brow furrowing, his disgust undisguised: "A remnant of the Ghost Path."

He glanced at Hong Gu, a cold disdain flashing in his eyes: "A demonic sorcerer."

Finally, the voice stopped on Liu San Niang and Li Xiong, as indifferent as if it were talking about two insects crawling into the main room: "Scattered cultivators in the shantytown."

He walked to the middle of the shed, stood still, and put his hands in his sleeves, as if he were inspecting the tenant farmers' huts in his own backyard.

"Golden-Veined Blood Ginseng, a Grade Three spiritual plant, is listed as Article 71 in the sect's Class A controlled list."

Lu Feng spoke slowly, each word like a verdict in a court of death, cold and certain.

"Wild animals belong to whoever finds them, but must be immediately reported to the local steward for identification and unified purchase by the sect's medicine hall. Those who hoard them will have their items confiscated and be whipped thirty times; those who sell them privately will have their cultivation crippled and be expelled from the Southern Frontier; those who refine them privately—"

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife, piercing Chen Yuan:

"cut."

The shed was deathly silent.

The first rooster crowed in the distance, hoarse and short, as if an invisible hand had grabbed its neck, cutting it off halfway through its crow.

Chen Yuan raised his head.

Sunlight streamed through the round hole in the roof and fell directly on his face.

His eyes were bright, so bright that they didn't seem like those of someone who had just been sentenced to death.

Chen Yuan merely glanced at the jade pendant at Lu Feng's waist—[Tranquility - Fake], minor effect. It was fake, but on the real Lu Feng, it was real.

In this world, truth and falsehood are intertwined; what matters is not things, but people.

"Young Master Lu,"

"I planted the ginseng. I turned the soil over three times with one hoe, collected three baskets of gravel, and cleared away the grass roots three times; the fertilizer was the rotten spirit soil, bone meal, and blood residue that I bought one spirit stone at a time; the blood was released drop by drop from my own wrist, mixed with the heart blood of the monsters I hunted, and I watered it for a full eighty-one days—"

"According to Article 7 of Chapter 3 of the Flying Feather Sect's rules, the ownership of artificially cultivated spiritual plants belongs to the person who cultivated them. Is that correct?"

Lu Feng narrowed his eyes.

Those narrow eyes flashed with a cold light, like a frozen lake: "Do you have a breeding license? Do you have a spiritual plant master certificate? Have you submitted the cultivation registration documents to the pharmacy?"

The three questions were increasingly cold and harsh, each one more so than the last.

Chen Yuan smiled.

He laughed so hard his shoulders shook, he laughed so hard he coughed, and he coughed until tears welled up in his eyes.

He raised his hand and wiped it, revealing a dark red mark on the back of his hand—not from coughing, but from the fine beads of blood that seeped out when the blood ginseng roots poured back blood energy, causing the capillaries in his body to rupture due to the violent energy.

"no."

Chen Yuan straightened up, a smile still lingering on his face. Against the backdrop of blood and sweat, the smile appeared somewhat ferocious.

"I have nothing. Four spiritual roots, Qi Refining Level 4, a lowly farmer and cultivator at the bottom of the shantytown, my parents died in the mine, and not even a complete skeleton was found. My master? He's just a half-finished copy of 'Basic Spiritual Plant Record' that I bought for three spirit stones at a stall, and the last eight pages are still missing."

He took a step forward.

As soon as my left foot stepped out, my leg went weak and I lurched forward.

The roots that were wrapped around his ankle suddenly burst out of the soil, taut and straight, firmly holding him steady.

The blood ginseng leaves swayed on their own without any wind, and their golden-red light surged, like a silent fire burning, making his entire face appear to be on fire, revealing every wrinkle and every scar clearly.

"But I have this ginseng."

Chen Yuan reached out, his fingertips gently brushing against the ginseng leaves.

"Use the ginseng that is planted with life."

Senior Yin wanted the soul source inside to nourish his sister, who only had half a remnant soul left.

Senior Hong Gu wants to refine a "thread-pulling puppet" that can break through the bottleneck;

The Sultan was going to use medicine to save someone; I don't know who she was saving, but there was genuine urgency in her eyes.

Fellow Daoist Liu needs to distribute dividends to pay off his debts, which are high-interest loans from the Black Tiger Gang. The interest has tripled due to compounding interest.

Young Master Lu wants to hand over his merits to the sect in exchange for a Foundation Establishment Pill, or a chance to enter the inner sect's library—"

Chen Yuan paused, then pointed to himself, "And me."

"I want to exchange it for spirit stones, buy cultivation techniques, establish my foundation, and survive."

"Young Master Lu," Hong Gu suddenly spoke, twirling the empty string of bells between her fingers, "Sect rules are rules, but there's always an order to things. This ginseng, Fellow Daoist Yin Jiu wants the soul source, I want the essence, Master Su Dan wants it for medicine, and Sister Liu wants a share... You come here and want to take it all, isn't that too greedy?"

Lu Feng's face darkened: "A demonic cultist like you dare to talk about first come, first served?"

"What's wrong with the demonic path?" Hong Gu took a step forward, her red dress billowing even without wind. "The demonic path at least insists on mutual consent when they kill—you righteous path cultivators can't even be bothered to make up a reason for killing; a simple 'slaying demons and eliminating evil' is enough. Young Master Lu, tell me, who's more hypocritical?"

Lu Feng didn't respond.

He simply raised his hand.

The four inner disciples behind him stepped forward at the same time, their longswords drawn three inches from their sheaths, their sword light as cold and clear as the moon.

The atmosphere inside the shed instantly became extremely tense.

Yin Jiu's black robe billowed, and black energy condensed into needles in his sleeves.

Blood beads seeped from Hong Gu's fingertips, and the blood beads condensed into tiny talismans in the air.

The flame flickered at Su Wanqing's fingertips.

Li Xiong gripped the hilt of the knife tightly.

A section of pink gauze slipped out from Liu San Niang's sleeve.

Everyone stared at the blood ginseng, and at each other.

The second crow of the rooster.

It was hoarser and longer than the first sound, like the last breath of a dying person.

As dawn broke and the first light of day appeared on the horizon, the morning light, like a dull knife, slowly tore through the thick curtain of night, struggling to emerge from behind the eastern mountain ridge.

Chen Yuan took a deep breath.

The breath swirled in his lungs, mingling with the surging blood, and when he exhaled, it carried a heavy, bloody smell: "Since we can't divide it evenly, can't reach an agreement, and no one can convince anyone else—then let's follow the rule of the shantytown where people live today without knowing tomorrow."

He stepped back, making way for the basin of blood ginseng that shone with dazzling light:

"Whoever grabs it gets to keep it."

The moment the words fell—

All six sides mobilized!

Yin Jiu's black robe exploded, turning into a swirling black mist that surged towards the Blood Ginseng like a burst dam.

Dozens of pale, ghostly hands emerged from the mist, their fingernails black and sharp, reaching for the ginseng basin!

The Red Maiden's Soul-Capturing Bell rang, and seven vengeful ghostly phantoms shrieked as they rushed out, their forms twisting like smoke. Wherever they passed, the ground cracked and the earth and stone turned to dust!

Su Wanqing's fingertips shot out flames, which wove into a large net of fire in the air and descended. Dense chains of crimson runes emerged from the mesh of the net, and the ends of the chains were burning barbs!

Li Xiong punched the ground!

"boom--!"

Earth and rocks erupted, solidifying into three stone spears that pierced the air towards the ginseng basin. The spear tips were wrapped in solidified earth elemental energy, tearing through the air and emitting a piercing shriek!

A pink gauze veil flew out from Liu San Niang's sleeve, as thin as a cicada's wing, yet it instantly spread out to a radius of three zhang.

Dozens of smiling faces emerged from the gauze, their lips opening and closing, singing silently, the gauze coiling and strangling like living things!

The four disciples behind Lu Feng formed a battle formation at the same time, and the sword light poured down like a waterfall!

Four longswords were drawn from their sheaths and intertwined in the air to form an impenetrable sword net. The sword energy was as cold as icy rain in the dead of winter, sealing off all directions!

The center of all the attacks was that pot of golden-veined blood ginseng.

And Chen Yuan—

At the same instant that the six parties made their move, he stomped his foot.

It's not about rushing forward to grab ginseng, nor is it about hiding behind; it's about going downwards.

It felt like sinking into quicksand, instantly burying myself in the soil.

It wasn't a magic trick, there was no flash of light, no incantation appearing—it was the blood ginseng's symbiotic roots that were growing wildly, pulling and dragging.

A dense net had been woven underground, its roots wrapping around his waist, legs, and arms, pulling him deep into the soil like a fish entering water.

In the last moment before sinking, he crushed the "Earth Vein Synchronization" entry that he had extracted from a century-old iron wire grass three days earlier.

The entry transformed into emerald green light spots that seeped into the space between the eyebrows.

His aura instantly synchronized with, mixed with, and became indistinguishable from the faint tributary of the underground vein in the shantytown.

They vanished without a trace.

Inside the shed, six forces collided!

Black mist and vengeful spirits clashed, ghostly hands tore apart the soul shadows, and the soul shadows corroded the black mist!

The fire and the stone spear clashed; the flames melted the tip of the stone spear, and the stone spear shattered the chains of fire!

The veil of smoke and the net of swords clashed, the alluring face biting the sword energy, which then cleaved through the veil of smoke!

The thatched hut was blown to pieces by the violent energy shock!

Thatch, sawdust, and clods of earth shot into the sky, only to be torn to shreds by the even more violent air currents.

Dust swirled like thick fog, spiritual pressure surged like a hurricane, and light mingled like an overturned dye vat—crimson, inky black, pinkish-purple, moon white, lapis lazuli, and earthy yellow, six colors intertwined and splashed, making the pre-dawn sky bizarre and colorful.

When the light faded, everyone stopped simultaneously.

The smoke and dust slowly settled.

Because the blood ginseng... has disappeared.