Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

Zhou Ming looked at the tinderbox.

It was the velvet grass seedling that Chen Yuan had asked him to water with half a spoonful of spiritual spring water every day three days ago.

The seedling has grown to three inches tall, its entire body is crimson, its leaves are thick, and golden light flows through its veins—it doesn't look like grass, but like a miniature fire tree.

He stared at the seedlings for a long time before remembering his business and turning to run towards plot number seventy-three.

Five or six people were gathered around the edge of the field.

They were all disciples of Medicine Valley, and they had come to see the rare sight of the Yin Soul Flower, having heard it might bloom today. After all, it was the evidence of the bet between Senior Sister Su and the Array Court, and the bet still had two months left. If the flower bloomed early, the Array Court would be in big trouble.

Zhou Ming squeezed in and saw Chen Yuan squatting beside the flowers.

His right hand was tucked into his sleeve, leaving only his left hand exposed, with his index finger lightly touching half an inch above the petal.

His eyes were closed, and his complexion was better than it had been three days ago, but his lips were still pale.

"Senior Brother Chen?" Zhou Ming called softly.

Chen Yuan didn't open his eyes, but only waved his left index finger.

Zhou Ming held his breath.

Then he saw—

The fist-sized bud at the very center of the Ghost Flower is unfurling its black petals layer by layer.

It doesn't "bloom," it "slides open."

As if someone gently pushed from the inside, the petals silently and slowly curled outwards, revealing the cluster of pale white stamens at the center.

The flower stamens were trembling.

It wasn't the wind blowing; it was trembling on its own.

With each tremor, a drop of dark golden sap seeps out. The sap slides down the stamen and drips onto the lower petals, instantly giving them a glossy sheen.

A certain smell filled the air.

It's not the scent of flowers.

It's a deeper, more subtle scent, like the smell of incense ash mixed with old copper coins in a historic temple, heavy and slightly astringent when inhaled.

One of the disciples watching whispered, "It's really open..."

"Not yet," Chen Yuan suddenly said.

He opened his eyes, pressed his left index finger down half an inch, almost touching the flower's stamen: "Almost there."

Before the words were even finished, the flower stamen trembled violently!

This time it wasn't oozing juice, but "spitting out"—a small puff of dark golden mist sprayed from the center of the flower's stamen. The mist condensed into seven rice-grain-sized beads in mid-air, hovered for a moment, and then fell together to the soil.

hiss hiss hiss—

Seven wisps of blue smoke rose from the ground.

After the smoke dissipated, seven tiny holes, no bigger than pinheads, were left on the ground, with a layer of dark golden crystal shell condensed around the edges of the holes.

The Ghost Flower has fully bloomed.

The eight black petals fully unfolded, the stamen stood upright, and the cluster of pale light stabilized, no longer trembling.

The entire plant exudes a serene beauty, tinged with the scent of death.

Chen Yuan withdrew his hand and stood up.

He squatted for too long, his legs went numb, and he swayed. Zhou Ming quickly steadied him.

"Did it work?" Zhou Ming asked.

"It's done." Chen Yuan looked at the flower. "It won't die for at least three months."

Among the onlookers, some whispered among themselves, "It's only been a few days... and he really brought him back to life?"

"Senior Sister Su's Five Elements Guiding Yin Technique is amazing."

"It wasn't entirely thanks to Senior Sister Su, was it? Senior Brother Chen almost died that night because he disturbed the earth's veins..."

Chen Yuan ignored the discussion and turned to leave. After taking two steps, he stopped and turned back to Zhou Ming, saying, "From now on, you'll take care of that Firefly Grass for me. Water it with half a spoonful of spiritual spring water every day at Chen Shi (7-9 AM), not earlier or later."

Zhou Ming nodded: "Senior Brother Chen, where are you going?"

Chen Yuan raised his right hand, his sleeve slipping down to reveal a forearm that was a mix of dark red and purplish-black: "To the forbidden area in the back mountain. Senior Brother Wang arranged it."

The surroundings fell silent instantly.

The disciples' expressions changed; some were surprised, some felt pity, and some gloated.

The forbidden area in the back mountains, where the earth's veins are forged in blood—that's where serious offenders are punished.

Of those who enter during the Qi Refining stage, less than 30% survive.

"Senior Brother Chen..." Zhou Ming's voice tightened, "Do we really have to go? Can't we ask Master Su for help..."

"It was Master Su who sent me," Chen Yuan interrupted him. "She said I either had to ruin this arm or I had to train it. I chose to train it."

He rolled up his sleeves and patted Zhou Ming on the shoulder: "Keep an eye on the Yin Soul Flower for me, don't let anyone touch it. If the people from the Array Court come to find fault, just say the flower has bloomed, and let them see for themselves."

After saying that, he turned and left.

The crowd automatically parted to form a path.

Chen Yuan walked slowly, but his back was very straight. His right hand was tucked into his sleeve, and his left hand hung naturally at his sides, as if he were just going to weed the medicinal herb field.

Only after his figure disappeared at the valley entrance did a disciple whisper, "Does he not know what the forbidden area is like?"

"We have to go even if we know. Senior Brother Wang Mo is keeping an eye on us."

"What a pity, I just revived the Ghost Flower..."

"Whether you live or die depends on fate. Even Foundation Establishment cultivators dare not linger in that forbidden area."

Zhou Ming stood there, looking in the direction where Chen Yuan had disappeared, and then at the blooming Yin Soul Flower on the ground.

The black petals gleamed with a dark, almost metallic sheen in the afternoon light.

---

There is no road on the back mountain.

There was only a narrow path, worn smooth by countless footsteps, barely wide enough for one person to pass through, with boulders and waist-high withered grass on both sides. The further you went in, the sparser the vegetation became, until eventually even the grass disappeared, leaving only bare, dark red rocks.

The air began to heat up.

It wasn't the heat from the sun; it was a stifling heat, seeping up from the ground, with a metallic smell. Inhaling it felt like drinking a mouthful of lukewarm blood.

After walking for about half an hour, Chen Yuan came to a canyon ahead.

At the mouth of the valley stand two stone tablets, the left one inscribed with the word "Prohibition" and the right one with the word "Land". The surfaces of the tablets are mottled from wind and rain erosion, but the engravings are extremely deep, as if they were chopped in with a knife.

Two people were standing at the entrance of the valley.

They were all disciples of the Hall of Deacons, dressed in black, close-fitting outfits, with swords at their waists. Upon seeing Chen Yuan, the man on the left expressionlessly handed him a wooden plaque.

"Forbidden Zone Token. Wear it on your person and return it upon exiting. Losing it will be considered treason."

Chen Yuan took it. The wooden plaque was rough, with burrs on the edges. The words "Blood Refining" were engraved on the front, and his name and the date were on the back.

"Go straight for three hundred steps after you enter, and you'll find an open space. Meditate there for three days, and then you'll come out on your own," the man on the right said, his voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding against stone. "Don't wander off, and don't go deeper into the area. There are things inside... that you can't afford to mess with."

Chen Yuan nodded, tied the wooden sign to his belt, and stepped into the canyon.

The temperature rose sharply as soon as I stepped inside.

It was like stepping from autumn into a smelting furnace at midday in the height of summer. The heat wave, carrying a strong smell of rust and blood, hit him in the face, making Chen Yuan cough twice.

He stopped, took a few breaths to catch his breath, and then continued walking.

The ground was dark red sand, soft and spongy underfoot, like stepping on dried, congealed blood. With each step, fine red dust rose up.

The rock walls on both sides are also dark red, with honeycomb-like holes on the surface. Some of the holes have viscous, dark red liquid flowing out and dripping onto the ground, making a soft "hissing" sound.

Besides the heat, there was also a subtle, continuous humming in the air.

Chen Yuan walked about three hundred paces and indeed saw an open space.

It wasn't large, about three zhang square, with a relatively flat surface and a shallow depression in the center. At the bottom of the depression was a layer of dark red water—not water, but liquefied earth vein blood.

He walked to the edge of the pit and sat down cross-legged.

The sleeve of his right arm was rolled up, exposing his skin, a mixture of dark red and purplish-black.

Almost simultaneously, the blood-red mist at the bottom of the pit seemed to come alive, churning and rising in wisps of red fog.

When the mist touched his arm, Chen Yuan shuddered.

hot.

It wasn't the burning sensation of fire, but the scalding heat of needles, drilling into the pores. Each needle carried the scent of blood, recklessly thrusting into the meridians.

He gritted his teeth and activated the Long Breath Technique, attempting to guide the flow of blood and energy.

But it didn't work.

The blood energy in the forbidden area was far too violent for his meager cultivation level to control. It was like a wild horse that had broken free, rampaging through his meridians, scraping painfully against the meridian walls wherever it went.

Worse still, the ley line mark on his arm began to react violently.

The purplish-black lines resembled red-hot iron wires, protruding and wriggling under the skin.

Blood and energy surged into the mark, mixing with the original pollution to become a more violent energy that burned up the arm to the shoulder.

Chen Yuan groaned, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He knew he couldn't stop.

If you stop, the blood and qi will stagnate in your arm, and that arm will be truly ruined.

The only option is to tough it out and use your cultivation techniques to gradually refine and absorb this violent blood energy.

He closed his eyes and focused all his energy on circulating his inner energy.

Time becomes blurred.

Only the pain is clear.

Every breath he took carried the smell of blood, whether from the air or from his own throat, he couldn't tell.

After an unknown amount of time, a strange sensation suddenly came from my right arm.

It's not that the pain has lessened, it's that... there's an additional "perception".

He "senses" the flow of blood and qi at the bottom of the pit, feels the pulsation of the earth's veins deep within the rock walls, and even senses that he is not the only living being in this forbidden area.

Deeper still, deep within the cave, something is breathing.

Slow, heavy breathing, carrying an ancient resentment.

Chen Yuan suddenly opened his eyes.

It was already dark.

There was no clear distinction between day and night in the forbidden area; only the blood-red mist grew thicker and thicker, like a viscous blood-red veil, shrouding the entire canyon.

The blood and qi at the bottom of the pit were still churning.

But at this moment, he clearly "saw"—the blood energy was not chaotic. It had a direction, as if it were being pulled by something, converging in a certain direction deep within the canyon.

And that direction is precisely where the breath comes from.

Chen Yuan stood up.

His legs were so numb that he staggered before regaining his balance.

The burning pain in my right arm subsided a bit, but the dark red lines under my skin became clearer, resembling blood vessels or roots.

He looked down at the bottom of the pit.

The blood was still gushing out, but at a slower pace. It seemed... that thing deep inside had absorbed most of it.

The token felt heavy at his waist.

My senior brother's words echoed in my ears: "Don't wander off, don't go deeper into the area."

Chen Yuan stood for ten breaths.

Then he lifted his foot, not towards the valley entrance, but towards the depths of the canyon, towards the direction from which the breath was coming, and took a step.

The mark on my right arm suddenly felt hot.

This is not a warning.

Yes... it echoes.