Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

It was past midnight, and the shantytown was as quiet as a graveyard.

Chen Yuan sat cross-legged on the bed, holding a spirit stone in his hand.

The spiritual energy seeped into the meridians in wisps, but got stuck at the end of the third meridian.

The bottleneck between the third and fourth levels of Qi Refining is much thicker than that between the first two levels.

He opened his eyes and threw the dull spirit stone into the corner.

There were already more than a dozen piles of waste stones there, like a small burial mound.

The moonlight outside the window was pale and lifeless.

Suddenly, a sharp shriek came from afar.

It was neither a human voice nor that of an ordinary wild animal.

The sound was sharp and shrill, like a piece of iron scraping against a stone slab, piercing one's eardrums with pain.

Chen Yuan immediately stood up and reached for the window.

In the northeast corner of the shantytown, near the foot of the mountain, towards the field, a fire lit up.

It wasn't just one or two torches, but more than a dozen torches swaying, with shadowy figures and faint shouts coming from within.

"Monsters—monsters have attacked the fields!"

Someone shouted at the top of their lungs.

Chen Yuan's heart tightened. He grabbed the short knife from under the bed, tucked it into his waistband, and rushed out the door.

Many monks had already emerged from the streets.

Most of them were disheveled, some were only wearing outer robes, and some were barefoot, carrying hoes, machetes, and other iron weapons.

Everyone looked terrified and ran towards the fire.

Chen Yuan ran with the crowd, and when he got close to the edge of the field, he saw the scene—

In the torchlight, three dark figures darted about in the field.

It is the "Ironclaw Lynx".

This monster is not large, about the size of a wild dog, but its limbs are thick and its claws are like iron hooks, capable of easily tearing flesh. It usually only dares to roam in the mountains and rarely ventures down to human settlements.

But three came tonight.

"Surround them! Don't let them escape!"

A rough, hoarse voice roared.

It was Li Xiong. He was shirtless, revealing his strong muscles, and the dark red cloth wrapped around his right hand gleamed blood in the firelight.

He was carrying a thick-backed machete, the blade of which was covered in a sticky substance.

Seven or eight rogue cultivators formed a semi-circle, brandishing their weapons haphazardly, but none dared to step forward.

A lynx with iron claws arched its back and let out a low growl. Blood was flowing from its left eye, indicating it had been injured by something, but its ferocity only intensified as it scratched the ground with its claws, sending dirt flying.

Li Xiong spat, "Damn it, I guarded the mine for three days, and this is the first bad luck I run into when I get back!"

He took a step forward.

The lynx pounced suddenly, as fast as a black arrow.

Instead of retreating, Li Xiong advanced, sweeping his cleaver horizontally.

The blade clashed with the iron claw, sparks flying. The lynx was knocked back several steps, and Li Xiong also staggered backward, three bloody gashes appearing on his arm.

"What are you all standing there for? Go!" he roared.

Only then did the rogue cultivators muster their courage and swarm forward.

Hoes, machetes, and sticks were hurled at him haphazardly.

The lynx hissed and clawed, and another person screamed and fell to the ground, his thigh ripped open, blood gushing out like a fountain.

Chen Yuan stood on the periphery of the crowd, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife.

His gaze swept across the battlefield.

Three lynxes, one was entangled by Li Xiong, while the other two ran wildly in the field, flattening rice stalks wherever they went.

This rice was ready for harvest in another month, but now it's all ruined.

Old Zhao rushed over from the side, carrying a sharpened wooden spear: "Young Chen, don't go in! These beasts are vicious!"

Before he could finish speaking, a lynx suddenly turned around and pounced on Chen Yuan.

Perhaps it smelled something—perhaps the lingering scent of spiritual plants on Chen Yuan's body, or perhaps something else entirely.

The beast's eyes gleamed green, drool dripped from its mouth, and it moved with astonishing speed.

Chen Yuan had no time to think and drew his sword.

The short sword was drawn, its gleaming blade reflecting the firelight.

As the lynx pounced in front of him, he dodged to the side, the blade flashing out in the process.

The blade sliced ​​through the fur and cut into the flesh, but not deep enough. The lynx, in pain, turned and lashed out with its claws again.

Chen Yuan raised his knife to parry.

"clang--"

The clang of metal rang out. The short knife nearly slipped from his hand, his hand trembling with pain. The lynx's claws were too hard; no iron knife could cut through them.

A man and a beast were locked in combat.

Chen Yuan fought and retreated, trying to lure the lynx to the edge of the field. The soil there was soft, which would hinder the lynx's movement.

He dared not fight head-on, so he could only use hit-and-run tactics, targeting the eyes and throat with his blade.

After several rounds, he had several cuts on his body. His left arm was slashed open, and blood soaked through his sleeve; his shirt was torn at the chest, revealing his old undergarment.

The lynx isn't much better.

He was stabbed twice in the back and his right hind leg was also stabbed, which slowed his movements.

But its ferocity remains undiminished.

It suddenly stood upright, its front paws outstretched, revealing hook-like claws, and lunged at Chen Yuan's face.

Chen Yuan's pupils contracted.

That claw attack is unavoidable.

In a flash, his consciousness sank into the sea of ​​consciousness.

In the hazy space, four leaves floated—[weak fire spirit energy], [minor increase in production], [minor ripening effect], and [minor resilience].

Which one should I use?

None of them are offensive terms.

but--

The lynx's claws were already upon them.

Chen Yuan's mind raced as he simultaneously grabbed at [Slightly Resilient] and [Slightly Accelerated].

Both leaves vanished at the same time.

A strange feeling surged through my body.

It wasn't an infusion of spiritual energy, but rather a more fundamental change—the muscles tensed, and the skin felt slightly hardened, as if coated with an invisible layer of gel.

At the same time, the flow of life within the body accelerated, and the pain from the injury lessened somewhat.

He raised his knife to block again.

"clang--"

This time, the knife wasn't knocked away. Although my hand was still numb, I managed to grip it.

The lynx's claws grazed his chest, but only tore his outer garment, leaving three white marks on his skin without drawing blood.

Chen Yuan seized the momentary opening, crouched down and lunged forward, his short knife piercing the lynx's throat from below.

The knife tip enters the flesh, encounters resistance, then more force is applied.

"Pfft—"

Warm blood sprayed all over his face.

The lynx made a strange hoarse sound, its claws flailing wildly in the air before finally collapsing, twitching for a moment, and then remaining still.

Chen Yuan, panting heavily, drew his sword.

The knife was covered in thick blood. His arms and legs were trembling, whether from exhaustion or lingering fear, it was hard to tell.

"Young Master Chen!"

Old Zhao rushed over and helped him up: "Are you alright?"

Chen Yuan shook his head and wiped the blood from his face. His vision was blurry; he couldn't tell if it was sweat or blood.

The battles on the other two sides are also nearing their end.

One lynx was slashed down by Li Xiong, and the other was surrounded and killed by several rogue cultivators.

Two more corpses lay on the ridge, and five or six injured people lay on the ground groaning.

The firelight flickered, and the stench of blood mixed with the smell of earth filled the air.

Someone started to cry. It was a young female cultivator, kneeling beside a corpse, her shoulders trembling.

Li Xiong walked up to Chen Yuan, looked him up and down, and lingered on the three white marks on his chest for a moment: "Kid, you're pretty tough."

Chen Yuan didn't speak, he just looked at him.

Li Xiong grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth: "That last move... was interesting. Have you practiced body tempering?"

"No," Chen Yuan replied briefly.

"That's just good luck." Li Xiong patted his shoulder hard. "But luck is also a skill. If you ever figure things out, come find me."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards Liu San Niang.

The woman also came out at some point and stood by the edge of the field. Her face was a little pale, but she remained calm.

Li Xiong put his arm around her waist and whispered something. Liu San Niang nodded, her gaze sweeping over Chen Yuan with a complex expression.

The crowd began to clean up the mess. The bodies were carried away, the injured were helped back to their homes, and some began to clear the destroyed sacred fields.

Old Zhao helped Chen Yuan bandage his wounds using the most common hemostatic herbs. He crushed them, applied them to the wounds, and then wrapped them tightly with a strip of cloth.

"This season's harvest... is ruined." The old man sighed. "Your three acres of land are on the south side, so you should have escaped the disaster. You're lucky."

Chen Yuan looked in the direction of his own spiritual field. It wasn't clear in the darkness, but it should be alright.

He recalled that moment just now—the changes that occurred in his body when he used both leaves simultaneously.

Can entries be stacked?

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the sea of ​​knowledge.

In the hazy space, of the four leaves that were originally suspended, only two remain: [Weak Fire Spiritual Energy] and [Slightly Increased Production]. [Weak Resilience] and [Weak Ripening] have been used up.

But the "stardust of entries" in the central government has changed.

The amount of stardust has increased, and the brightness has also increased.

More importantly, in the center of the stardust, the phantom of a... seedling appeared.

It was very small, only the size of a fingernail. A pale green halo outlined the shape of two tender leaves, the stems were slender, and the roots were embedded in the gray mist of the sea of ​​consciousness, appearing and disappearing.

It's not a physical entity, but more like some kind of projection.