Chapter 433: Lin An’s Choice |
Jiang Chen scrolled through the jade slips, his mind turning over the possibilities.
For a pure Wood Spirit Root, the array of cultivation techniques was vast.
Manuals like the Breath of Life Spirit Plant Art and the Withering and Flourishing Myriad Trees Art lined the metaphorical shelves.
The former focused on nurturing spirit plants, a perfect complement to his Four Seasons Scripture.
Cultivating and commanding different flora yielded a myriad of wondrous effects.
The Iron-Leaf Banyan, for instance, could temper its master’s flesh to withstand crushing blows.
The Mending Vine could knit bone and flesh back together, granting immense regenerative prowess.
The Spirit-Gathering Fruit could catalyze surrounding vegetation, transforming a quiet grove into a deadly, sweeping snare.
In short, it was a manual that turned the gentle art of farming into a weapon of war.
The latter, the Withering and Flourishing Myriad Trees Art, carried a heavier, more profound weight.
It touched upon the elementary heavenly principles of decay and bloom, the very cycle of life and death.
By dictating the vitality of the surrounding flora, a cultivator could warp the battlefield itself to crush their foes.
It lacked the sheer variety of the former, but its roots dug far deeper into the Dao.
However, for a dual Spirit Root technique harmonizing Water and Wood, the pickings were slim.
Jiang Chen sifted through the records, finding only two acceptable options: the Rain Marsh Spirit Transformation Art, which emphasized water nurturing wood, and the Tidal Spirit Root Record, which synchronized the ebb and flow of tides with the growth of flora.
Overall, the techniques offered by the Spirit Farm were thoroughly mediocre.
Nothing sparked a fire in his chest.
Yet, nothing was entirely useless either.
Elder Mu’s voice carried the weight of centuries. “Contribution points are bled for, not given. Think carefully. Though you possess dual Water and Wood Spirit Roots, dedicating yourself to a pure Wood technique is a viable path.”
Ultimately, madmen like Long Ao, who forced two Spirit Roots to share the throne of their cultivation, were exceedingly rare.
Most multi-Spirit Root cultivators chose a master element, treating the others as mere servants.
This was especially true for mutually generating elements, where the synergy was like grafting wings onto a fierce tiger.
To do otherwise meant doubling the grueling years, the sweat, and the mountains of resources required to advance.
Even the pampered scions of immortal sects would buckle under that crushing burden, let alone a humble farmer.
After weighing the heavy cost, Jiang Chen’s gaze locked onto the Water-Wood Rotation Script.
Beneath its unassuming surface of Water and Wood, he sensed a deeper, hidden current-the seamless, cyclical generation of the Five Elements.
It was a perfect, quiet match for his Five Elements Spirit Root, a disguise woven into the very fabric of the art.
Among the sprawling list of Earth-grade manuals, this was his undisputed prize.
His decision crystallized. “The Water-Wood Rotation Script!”
Elder Mu’s weathered brow twitched in surprise. “This Earth-grade technique?”
Catching the old man’s shift in demeanor, Jiang Chen asked, “Is there a problem?”
Elder Mu shook his head slowly. “No. It is merely that the Director of Cultivation chose this exact manual in his youth.”
Jiang Chen blinked, genuinely surprised. “The Director is a multi-Spirit Root cultivator as well?”
Elder Mu gave a slight nod. “Water, Wood, and Fire. He anchored his foundation in Wood, using Water and Fire as kindling and nourishment. His talent in the alchemy furnace, however, was what truly set him apart.”
Jiang Chen offered a smooth, practiced smile. “No wonder he ascended to the seat of Director.”
Elder Mu’s gaze sharpened, demanding finality. “Are you certain you wish to burn six thousand contribution points on the Water-Wood Rotation Script?”
Jiang Chen didn’t flinch. “I am.”
The tally on his token blurred, the hard-earned wealth evaporating until a meager one hundred and fifty points remained.
In exchange, a cool, lustrous jade slip dropped into his calloused palm, humming with ancient knowledge.
Securing his prize, he offered a respectful bow and turned away.
He stepped out of the management pavilion and into the biting air.
The snowfall had thickened into a blinding squall, burying the earth beneath a heavy, suffocating shroud of white.
Jiang Chen pulled his collar tight, his senses prickling. The frost this year carried a malicious, invasive bite that previous winters lacked.
In times of peace, such a bitter chill would be nothing more than a nuisance.
But with the world teetering on the edge of chaos, the unnatural cold set his nerves on edge.
With the heavens acting like this, can the Thousand Sects Dharma Assembly even proceed as planned?
Not my problem. The sky could fall, and I’d still need to tend to my crops.
I just hope the people I care about survive the storm.
Exhaling a cloud of white mist, Jiang Chen descended the mountain steps, leaving the grand affairs of the sect behind.
Before long, the familiar, rustic silhouette of Red Leaf Valley appeared through the snow.
The moment his boots crossed the threshold of his land, the tension bled from his shoulders.
Da Huang and Wang Zai were tumbling through the snowdrifts, barking at the falling flakes, drawing a warm chuckle from his chest.
This quiet, grounded sanctuary was all he wanted. The bloody ambitions of the cultivation world could rot for all he cared.
The hours drifted by, settling into a quiet afternoon.
Lin An finally returned from his trading run to the Rogue Cultivator Market in Green City.
He had been gone for an unusually long time, missing the entire relocation process.
Stepping into the newly expanded Red Leaf Valley, Lin An froze, his eyes wide as he took in the sprawling, lustrous sanctuary.
The sheer scale of the estate dwarfed their old home, leaving him visibly disoriented.
Jiang Chen pointed toward the study with a calloused finger. “Over there. I carved out a room just for you.”
Lin An waved his hands awkwardly. “Senior Brother Jiang, I’m afraid I’ll be spending most of my time in Green City from now on.”
Jiang Chen paused, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
Lin An rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish flush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ve… developed feelings for Zhang Laizi.”
Jiang Chen stared at him, utterly deadpan. “You what?”
Lin An offered a dopey smile. “I’ve been running your errands in Green City, acting as the bridge between Immortal Zhu and Laizi. We spent a lot of time together, things clicked, and then…”
Jiang Chen’s face contorted into a grimace. “Don’t tell me you two already… plowed the fields?”
Lin An nodded vigorously. “Yes. The fields have been plowed.”
Zhang Laizi was no jade-skinned beauty, but she offered him something far rarer in this brutal world: a profound sense of security.
Naturally, there was a more pragmatic undercurrent to their union.
Because Lin An was tethered to Jiang Chen, and Jiang Chen was the proxy for the mysterious ‘Immortal Zhu,’ Laizi was more than willing to take a younger, weaker man into her bed.
Even if she couldn’t serve directly at Zhu Rong’s feet, binding herself to Lin An guaranteed a lifeline to an immortal sect disciple.
If the heavens smiled upon her, this gamble could elevate her beyond the dirt of the rogue markets forever.
Jiang Chen rubbed his temples, sighing. “No wonder you took so long to get back.”
Lin An’s dopey smile faded into earnest resolve. “You know my limits better than anyone, Senior Brother. Rather than drowning at the bottom of the sect, I’m better off managing your affairs on the outside.”
Jiang Chen waved him off. “Do as you please. Just keep your mouth shut about my business.”
The rice was already cooked; there was no point in lecturing the boy now.
Besides, with the sect bracing for a storm, the mundane streets of Green City might actually be safer.
Lin An was obedient, sensible, and possessed a street-smart cunning, but his martial talent was abysmal.
Letting him put down roots in the city to manage the external supply lines was a sound tactical move.
Seeing Jiang Chen’s tacit approval, Lin An sagged with relief and immediately raised three fingers to the sky. “I swear it. If I ever leak a word, may heavenly lightning strike me dead where I stand.”
He had been sweating bullets the entire journey back.
The fear of angering Jiang Chen and losing his place in the valley had gnawed at him, but the gamble had paid off.
With the heavy matters settled, Lin An retrieved the profits from his extended trading run.
He placed two small Storage Bags onto the table.
One clinked with the Spirit Stones earned from Jiang Chen’s crops.
The other was heavy with the monster cores and materials procured for ‘Immortal Zhu.’
His duty fulfilled, Lin An excused himself to settle into his new room.
Jiang Chen weighed the Storage Bags in his palms, a cynical smirk tugging at his lips. After all the grand schemes and immortal politics, the gritty Rogue Cultivator Market is still my most reliable harvest.
It was a damn shame about Mystic Heart City. He had planned to bleed that place dry of its wealth.
Between the century-long fishing rights to the Spirit Gathering Abyss and his ties to the mermaid tribe, he had been sitting on a mountain of gold. Then some lunatic had to go and sever the Dragon Vein.
Now, Mystic Heart City was a crater, and his captive mermaid princess had slipped right through his fingers!
