Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

At noon, Chen Yuan went to the market.

The "Yuancaotang" shop in the shantytown has already put up its sign, but it hasn't officially opened yet. Widow Li was wiping the shelves in the shop when she saw her four-year-old son, Little Stone, squatting at the door playing with mud.

"Uncle Chen!" Little Stone's eyes lit up, and he dropped the mud and ran over.

Chen Yuan patted the child's head and took out a small cloth bag from his pocket: "For your mother."

The cloth bag contained five low-grade spirit stones and a note that read, "Buy ten bags of humus and three catties of moss stone powder. Keep the rest of the money."

Widow Li took the cloth bag, glanced at the note, and without asking any further questions, whispered, "Third Sister Liu's people came by this morning to ask if you're coming back to stay."

"What did you say?"

"I told you I didn't know, that once you joined the sect, you couldn't control your own comings and goings." Widow Li paused, "But they don't seem to believe me. Xiong Kui asked me to pass on a message saying that things are getting unsettled in the shantytown lately, and that you should try not to come back."

Chen Yuan nodded: "I understand. What else is the shop missing?"

"The shelves are all set, but the goods haven't been stocked yet. Manager Liao agreed to give us a batch of low-grade spiritual herbs on credit, but requires payment within three months." Widow Li smiled bitterly. "I've calculated that even if business is good, we won't make back our costs in three months."

"I'll figure out what to do with the goods," Chen Yuan said. "You take care of Xiao Shitou first."

As Chen Yuan left Yuancao Hall, he felt a stinging sensation in his back—he felt eyes watching him. He didn't turn around and walked straight towards Baicao Hall.

Manager Liao was doing accounts behind the counter when he saw Chen enter. He raised his eyes and said, "Young man Chen, I heard you made the Ghost Flower bloom?"

The news spread really fast.

"Luckily." Chen Yuan walked to the counter. "Shopkeeper, I'd like to buy some things."

"explain."

"Twenty bags of humus, ten pounds of moss-covered stone powder, and five pounds of raw materials for 'Wotu San'—I know the recipe, and it's cheaper to mix it myself."

Shopkeeper Liao stopped using the abacus: "What do you need so much soil for? Two bags of humus will be enough for that small plot of land, number seventy-three."

"I want to try to improve plot number 75." Chen Yuan said without changing his expression. "That plot of land has been abandoned for too long, and the soil quality has deteriorated. It can't be saved without investing a lot of money."

"Plot number seventy-five..." Manager Liao narrowed his eyes, "That's the worst plot of land in the Yellow Zone. Three batches of Fire Cloud Grass died there before, and even Foundation Establishment stage spirit plant masters shook their heads. Where do you, a mere Qi Refining level six cultivator, get your confidence?"

"I have to give it a try," Chen Yuan said. "There are still two months left in the bet. Even if the Ghost Flower bears fruit, that land will still be mine. I don't want to be stuck with a wasteland forever."

This makes perfect sense. Cultivators value "location" above all else; a good medicinal field can even be more valuable than a magic artifact of the same rank. If they can truly improve plot number seventy-five, Chen Yuan's status in the Medicine Valley will be completely different.

Manager Liao stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed: "Alright, that's ambitious. But..." He lowered his voice, "We only have half of what you wanted in the warehouse right now. The rest will have to wait until the next batch arrives in three days."

"Half is fine too, give it to me first."

"Two spirit stones for a bag of humus, one spirit stone for a pound of moss stone powder, and I'll give you the raw material for fertile soil at cost price, three spirit stones for a pound." Manager Liao rattled off his calculations. "A total of... seventy-four low-grade spirit stones. I'll round it down to seventy."

Chen Yuan took out a money pouch from his pocket—it contained all his belongings, including five mid-grade spirit stones, three months' salary advance from Su Wanqing after returning from the forbidden area, and another 60 spirit stones from Widow Li.

He counted out seventy spirit stones and placed them one by one on the counter.

Amidst the crisp sound of the impact, Manager Liao's eyes flickered: "Young Chen, if I may ask, are you truly improving the land just to grow spiritual plants?"

Chen Yuan looked up: "Otherwise what?"

"It's nothing." Manager Liao put away the spirit stones, turned around and went to the back warehouse to get the goods. "It's just that I feel that the way you spend money is becoming less and less like a spirit farmer at the sixth level of Qi Refining."

Half an hour later, Chen Yuan walked out of Baicaotang carrying a bulging cloth bag.

The bag was heavy, making his shoulders ache. But what weighed even more heavily on his mind was his money bag—he only had twelve low-grade spirit stones left, not even enough to buy a bottle of the worst Qi-replenishing pills.

However, the Qingyuan Vine requires even more investment: the special "Qingmu Spirit Liquid" formula needs to be purchased, the array plate for the protective small-scale "Spirit Gathering Array" needs to be rented, and if large-scale cultivation is to be carried out, a "Spirit Plant Mutation Experiment" permit must be applied for—that would be another expense.

"I need to find a way to make money..."

He muttered to himself, turned into a small alley, and tried to take a shortcut back to the Medicine Valley.

I had only walked halfway into the alley when three figures suddenly appeared in front of me.

Leading the group was Senior Brother Zhang from the Array Academy. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, followed by two outer disciples at the seventh level of Qi Refining. The three of them blocked the alley's exit.

"Junior Brother Chen, what a coincidence," Senior Brother Zhang said with a smile, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

Chen Yuan stopped and slowly put down the cloth bag on his shoulder.

"Is there something you need, Senior Brother Zhang?"

"It's nothing serious." Senior Brother Zhang straightened up and walked over step by step. "I just heard that you not only managed to grow the Yin Soul Flower on plot number seventy-three, but now you even dare to touch plot number seventy-five?"

"According to sect regulations, disciples in the Yellow Zone have the right to improve the medicinal fields under their jurisdiction," Chen Yuan said calmly.

"Rules are rules, but as a person... you have to know your limits." Senior Brother Zhang stopped three steps in front of Chen Yuan, his gaze sweeping over the large cloth bag. "Buying so much soil, you've got quite the ambition. What, you think you can run rampant in Medicine Valley just because a Ghost Flower has bloomed?"

"I wouldn't dare."

"You dare not?" Senior Brother Zhang suddenly reached out and patted Chen Yuan's shoulder—the force was heavy, carrying obvious spiritual pressure. "Junior Brother Chen, let me teach you a lesson today: In the Flying Feather Sect, there are some places you can touch, and some places... if you touch them, something bad will happen."

Chen Yuan felt a sharp burning pain from the mark on his right arm.

Blood Ginseng's soul was restless, instinctively hostile to the oppressive spiritual energy. He forcibly suppressed the impulse and bowed his head, saying, "Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother."

"It's good that you're sensible." Senior Brother Zhang withdrew his hand, glanced at the cloth bag, and said, "I'll keep these things for you for a few days. When you've thought things through, come to the court to get them from me."

Two disciples behind him stepped forward to pick up the cloth bag.

Chen Yuan suddenly lifted his foot and stepped on the cloth bag.

"Hmm?" Senior Brother Zhang narrowed his eyes.

"Senior brother." Chen Yuan raised his head, his eyes eerily calm. "This is soil I bought with all my savings. If you want to take it, you can—according to sect rules, disciples are not allowed to forcibly take property from each other. If you insist on taking it, I'll go to the Hall of Affairs right now and beat the grievance drum."

The alley suddenly fell silent.

Senior Brother Zhang's face darkened: "Are you threatening me?"

"I wouldn't dare," Chen Yuan said. "I'm just following the rules."

"Rules?" Senior Brother Zhang laughed, his laughter tinged with coldness. "Chen Yuan, who do you think you are? A disciple with four spiritual roots, at the sixth level of Qi Refining, relying on Su Wanqing for a living, dares to talk to me about rules?"

He took a step forward, releasing the full pressure of a ninth-level Qi Refining cultivator.

The air seemed to freeze.

Chen Yuan felt short of breath, his bones creaking under the oppressive force. The mark on his right arm burned with excruciating pain, and the Blood Ginseng's soul seemed about to burst from his body—

But he gritted his teeth and remained motionless.

His feet were still on the cloth bag.

Time passed little by little.

Ten breaths, twenty breaths, thirty breaths...

Voices came from outside the alley; it was a group of rogue cultivators walking by. Senior Brother Zhang's eyes flickered, and he finally withdrew his oppressive aura.

"Good, very good." He stared at Chen Yuan and said, word by word, "Since you value these newly laid mounds so much, then keep them. But Junior Brother Chen..."

He leaned close to Chen Yuan's ear and whispered:

"The Yin Soul Flower will be pollinated in seven days. I've heard that things haven't been peaceful around Medicine Valley lately, with 'wild rats' sneaking in to gnaw on the spiritual plants. You'd better... keep a close eye on them."

After saying that, he turned and left with his two disciples.

The footsteps faded into the distance.

Chen Yuan remained standing there, his back soaked in cold sweat. He slowly loosened his clenched fist, revealing crescent-shaped bloodstains on his palm.

The cloth bag at my feet felt heavy.

He bent down, picked up the cloth bag again, and walked out of the alley step by step.

The afternoon sun was blinding.

He narrowed his eyes and looked towards the direction of Medicine Valley.

---

As the sun set, Chen Yuan returned to plot number seventy-five.

He carefully spread humus and stone powder around the Qingyuan vine, and then used the remaining spirit stones to exchange for a small bottle of "root-promoting water" at the market, which he diluted and watered the vine.

By the time all this was done, it was already dark.

He sat by the pile of rubble, looking at the seven green vines that shimmered faintly in the night.

A new line of text slowly appeared in the field of view:

【Green Vine (Fast Growth Period)】

[Current spiritual energy output: 0.15 low-grade spirit stones per plant per day (expected to reach 0.3 stones in seven days)]

[Symbiotic suggestion: The host may try to establish a deep spiritual energy circulation channel using the 'Blood Ginseng Mark' as a medium to improve absorption efficiency]

Chen Yuan extended his right hand, and the tree-shaped mark on his palm emitted a faint dark red glow in the darkness.

He gently pressed down on the stem of a Chinese vine.

The moment the mark touched the vine, a warm, fragrant woody energy flowed into the body through the fingertips. Though faint, it was continuous, like a gentle spring rain, silently nourishing the parched meridians.

He closed his eyes.

Within his dantian, the Long Breath Technique struggled to circulate, refining the wood elemental energy bit by bit. The efficiency remained low, but at least… there was a source.

Night was falling.

Scattered lights twinkled throughout the Medicine Valley, where other disciples were working late into the night. Faint roars of beasts echoed in the distance, coming from the direction of the forbidden area at the back of the mountain.

Chen Yuan remained motionless, his hand still pressing down on the vine.

The marks on my right arm no longer itched; instead, they gave me a strange sense of belonging—as if this arm was meant to be pressed against the soil, meant to be connected to the plants and trees.

After an unknown amount of time, he suddenly heard a very faint "rustling" sound.

It wasn't the wind.

He suddenly opened his eyes and looked at plot number seventy-three—

Under the moonlight, a dark figure crouched low, rapidly approaching the blooming ghost flower.

The shadowy figure held a short blade, its blade gleaming an ominous, eerie green in the moonlight.

A knife coated with poison.

Chen Yuan's blood went cold instantly.

He recalled his senior brother Zhang's words, "wild rats."