Spirit Plant Entry: Immortality Begins with Farming

That glance was very calm.

Like looking at a dead person.

Then he walked out of the vine-covered gate and disappeared into the darkness.

Mu Shoujing stood still, staring in the direction where Chen Yuan had disappeared, without moving for a long time.

The blood pool was still boiling.

The dead tree roots were still twitching.

A sharp, tearing pain shot through the hole in his chest.

He looked down at his trembling hands.

On the back of my hand, an age spot is expanding at a visible rate.

It spread from the size of a fingernail to the size of a coin.

Then it continues to spread.

When Chen Yuanchong returned to the center of the Yin Soul Flower bushes, the light of the seven soul lamps had dimmed to the point of being almost invisible.

He stopped by the stone platform and looked down at his right hand.

The Chaos Divine Crystal in his palm was burning hot, and the gray mist deep within the crystal was churning and boiling, as if sensing something and about to break free.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

Slowly, heavily. Step by step, they trod on the black earth, making a wet, gurgling sound—not the sound of mud, but of blood.

Mu Shoujing walked out of the rattan door, blood seeping from the hole in her chest.

Dark red blood soaked through the dark blue Taoist robe, dripping down the hem and leaving a long trail of blood on the ground.

His face was fading.

It's not pale, but like an old ink painting, where the contours of the facial features begin to blur and melt away.

His eye sockets were sunken, his cheekbones were prominent, and the age spots on his skin seemed to come alive and spread.

But he was still smiling.

"Why are you running?" Mu Shoujing stopped at the edge of the flowerbed, her voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding iron. "Do you think you can escape?"

Chen Yuan didn't turn around. He raised his left hand, palm down, hovering above the stone platform.

"Master," he suddenly spoke, "does that hole in your chest hurt?"

Mu Shoujing's smile froze on her face.

"It hurts," Chen Yuan continued, his voice calm. "Every breath feels like a dull knife is churning inside. It provides some relief when they're draining someone's life force, but once it's gone, the pain intensifies—right?"

"you……"

"The poison Sun Hai used, it wasn't completely eradicated, was it?" Chen Yuan turned around and looked at Mu Shoujing. "That kind of insidious poison that specifically corrodes wood-attribute spiritual roots is called 'Marrow-Drying Powder.' The spiritual roots of those poisoned will rot from the inside out, like wood hollowed out by insects. They may look okay on the surface, but they're already rotten inside."

Mu Shoujing stared at him, her eyes like poisoned knives.

How do you know about the Bone Marrow Depletion Powder?

"It's on the third shelf on the east side of the third floor of the library," Chen Yuan said. "It's recorded in that fragment of the 'Study of Strange Poisons in the Southern Wilderness.' You said that we weren't allowed to touch those books before reaching the Foundation Establishment stage—but I did."

He paused.

"I not only touched it, I also looked at it."

The smile on Mu Shoujing's face vanished completely. He stood there, blood seeping from his chest, his face melting, like a clay sculpture in the process of collapsing.

"So what?" he asked slowly. "I understand, and then what? You can cure the poison? You can regenerate my spiritual root? You can send me back three hundred years, back to the time before I practiced that damned 'Yi Wood Longevity Technique'?"

"I can't," Chen Yuan shook his head.

"Then why are you spouting all this nonsense?" Mu Shoujing took a step forward, blood splattering under his feet. "Delaying time? Waiting for Jiang Tianzheng to come and save you? He won't come. I've spent three hundred years cultivating Changchun Realm. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would have to put in a lot of effort to break through the restrictions here."

He took another step forward.

"Once the soul power of your senior brothers and sisters is completely burned out, the Seven Star Soul Nourishing Array will reverse into the Seven Star Life-Taking Array. At that time, your life force, your cultivation level, and that special power within you—all of them will be mine."

Chen Yuan looked down at the stone platform.

The light of the seven soul lamps had become as faint as a candle flickering in the wind. The leftmost lamp's flame began to sway, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

"They're almost at their limit." Mu Shoujing also looked at the soul lamp. "Liu Muyun died first, but his soul was the most resilient, lasting eighty years. Zhao Hongyu's soul is weak; it will dissipate in thirty years. Sun Hai..."

He sneered.

"I specially refined Sun Hai's soul with Yin Fire. I kept him conscious, watching his soul power being drained away little by little every day—this is the price for betraying me."

Chen Yuan raised his head.

"Master," he suddenly asked, "when you accepted us as your disciples...did you have any sincerity whatsoever?"

Mu Shoujing was stunned.

He wasn't stumped by the question, but rather struck a nerve by the word "sincerity." For a moment, the crazed, resentful, and obsessive expression on his face went blank.

It's like a mask with a crack.

"Really?" he repeated, his tone odd. "Chen Yuan, how old are you?"

"A little over twenty."

"In my early twenties." Mu Shoujing nodded. "When I was your age, I also had true feelings. I genuinely respected my master, genuinely cared for my junior brothers and sisters, and genuinely wanted to cultivate the righteous path and ascend to immortality."

He raised his hand and looked at his melting palm.

"And then?" Chen Yuan asked.

"And then?" Mu Shoujing laughed, a dry laugh. "Later, in order to break through to the Nascent Soul stage, my master drained the life force from my three junior brothers. I watched them go from living people to three dried corpses. My master said—'On the path of cultivation, someone always has to sacrifice.'"

He lowered his hand.

"From that day on, I understood. All that master-disciple bond, all that fellow disciples' loyalty, it's all fake. There's only one real thing—living. Living longer and stronger than others is enough."

Chen Yuan remained silent for a long time.

"You're wrong, you're wrong."

Mu Shoujing raised an eyebrow.

"I've seen the real thing," Chen Yuan said slowly. "Old Zhao from the shantytown was torn to pieces by a mandrill while protecting me. His last words were—'Keep planting the fields.'"

"Widow Li, her husband died in the mine, and she raised her child alone. I helped her open Yuancaotang, and she takes 30% of the profits. She keeps clear accounts every day and doesn't take a penny more."

"Zhou Ming, a handyman disciple in the Medicine Valley. When I offended Zhang Jun, everyone avoided me, but he came up to me and asked, 'Do you need any help?'"

He looked at Mu Shoujing.

"None of them are cultivators. Old Zhao is at the third level of Qi Refining, Widow Li has no spiritual root, and Zhou Ming has been stuck at the second level of Qi Refining for ten years. But they have 'sincere hearts.' Do you have one?"

Mu Shoujing remained silent.

He stood there, blood seeping from his chest, his face melting, like a demon crawling out of hell.

But something was flashing in my eyes.

It wasn't tears. It was something more murky and heavier than tears.

"Are you done?" he finally asked, his voice returning to its icy tone.

"I'm done talking," Chen Yuan nodded.

"Then..."

Mu Shoujing didn't finish speaking.

Chen Yuan made a move.

He raised his right hand, and the Chaos Divine Crystal in his palm burst forth with a blinding gray light. Within the light, he brought his five fingers together, like a knife, and plunged them fiercely into his left chest.

It didn't pierce through. It pierced the skin and flesh, pressing against the heart.

Then make a forceful slash.

Blood spurted out.

This was no ordinary blood. It was essence blood mixed with the power of the five-colored stars, its crimson tinged with the flowing light of gold, cyan, blue, scarlet, and yellow. The blood seemed to have a life of its own, condensing into a stream in the air before splitting into seven beams that shot towards the seven soul lamps on the stone platform.

"Are you insane?!" Mu Shoujing's pupils constricted sharply. "If your essence blood leaves your body, your cultivation will definitely plummet! You..."

His words stuck in his throat.

Because those seven streams of essence blood, the instant they entered the Soul Lamp—

The flames surged.

It wasn't a fleeting, last-ditch burst of light. It was a real, intense, azure light that seemed to set the entire Changchun region ablaze.

The seven soul lamps simultaneously emitted a piercing shriek.

It wasn't a sound, but a piercing scream that directly assaulted the soul.

Amidst the howling, seven illusory figures struggled to crawl out of the lamplight—blurred human shapes, their faces indistinct, but one could sense overwhelming resentment, unwillingness, and the last vestiges of... clarity.

"Master... Father..."

The leftmost phantom opened its mouth, its voice as broken as the friction of shattered glass.

It is Liu Muyun.

"Three hundred... years..."

Zhao Hongyu's illusory figure replied, her voice high-pitched.

"How many more people... will you hurt...?"

Sun Hai's phantom was the most solid, and also the most resentful.

Seven illusory figures, seven questions.

Mu Shoujing stood there, looking at his disciples whose life force he had drained and whose souls he had refined, and for the first time, panic appeared on his face.

"How...how could you...?"

"Blood essence as the catalyst, vengeful spirits as the fuel." Chen Yuan's voice came from behind the blood mist, hoarse but clear, "Master, you taught me—the way of formations lies in balance. The Seven Star Soul Nourishing Formation can nourish the soul, and it can also... ignite the soul."

He raised his left hand—which was trembling violently from blood loss.

But he held on very tightly.

He held a piece of dark gray vine in his palm.

Bloodthirsty Spirit Vine.

"You're right," Chen Yuan stared at Mu Shoujing, "The power within me is incredibly vibrant. So vibrant... that it's enough to keep these seven soul lamps burning for the time it takes to burn an incense stick."

He let go.

The vines fell to the ground and burrowed into the black soil like snakes.

The next second, the entire Changchun region began to tremble.

It wasn't a slight tremor; it was a massive, earth-shaking tremor. The ground cracked, and dark red light emerged from the fissures—the malevolent energy of the blood pool.

Those majestic spiritual plants began to collapse, the fire velvet trees snapped in half, the perilla curtain withered in patches, and the Qingyang rice forest was as if it had been crushed by an invisible giant hand, with rice ears bursting open and grains scattering like bullets.