Chapter 434: Someone Wants to Harm You |
Harvested eight mu of Mutant Offspring Rice; lifespan increased by 1,600 days.
Harvested eight mu of Golden Spirit Rice; lifespan increased by 16,000 days.
Harvested eight mu of Foundation Fortifying Abundant Soil Rice; lifespan increased by 80,000 days.
Harvested eight mu of Five Elements Circulating Rice; lifespan increased by 88,000 days.
Total lifespan gained from this harvest: 508 years.
Jiang Chen
Male
25 years old
Five Elements Spirit Root
Divine Abilities: Five-Colored Divine Light, Myriad Bug Broodmother, Calling Wind and Summoning Rain, Thousand Mechanisms Myriad Transformations
Puppetry Art: Miracle Hands
Rune Crafting Art: Miracle Hands
Artifact Refining Art: Miracle Hands
Myriad Insects Secret Record: Peak Mastery
Nine Transformations of the Wandering Dragon: Third Transformation
Nine Flames Mystic Art: Peak Mastery
Five Elements Art: Peak Mastery
Four Seasons Scripture: Peak Mastery
Overturning Sea Seal: Peak Mastery
Nine Curves Tide Generating Art: Peak Mastery
Combined with the lifespan gained from harvesting Foundation Fortifying Abundant Soil Rice over the previous three months, his total lifespan had now reached a staggering figure:
3,206 years.
This vast reservoir of time not only eclipsed the natural limits of the Golden Core stage, but it had even surpassed the bounds of a Nascent Soul.
…
…
Just before stepping out of his secluded realm, Jiang Chen cast a glance at the ice womb, noting that the silhouette of the fetus within had grown increasingly distinct.
It seemed the flesh and blood essence of the Mirage Dragon possessed a potent, growth-accelerating property.
He wondered what exactly was gestating inside that frost, and more importantly, whether it could be of use to him.
After pondering for a moment, his figure flickered, instantly vanishing from the secluded realm.
Upon returning to the outside world, he found the heavy snow still falling, the relentless white deluge not having paused for a single breath.
It had been snowing continuously from the first day of the New Year straight through to the third. Faced with this unnatural weather, Jiang Chen’s expression turned particularly grave.
If his memory served him right, the Spirit Plant Prohibition Record had documented a phenomenon exactly like this.
It was a catastrophic blight known as the Cold Abyss Snow, an invasive disaster born from the winter skies.
The heavier the snow fell, the deeper the biting frost sank into the earth.
Without prior intervention, the spirit farms would be entombed in ice, and every last stalk of spirit rice would wither and die from the mystical frost.
Although fewer spirit farmers chose to cultivate during the winter months, the seasoned veterans would still attempt to coax life from the soil, even in the harshest of environments.
After all, formal disciples were bound by a strict quota: five thousand jin of spirit rice from second-grade spirit farms every single year.
This was no simple feat, requiring a yield of at least 1,250 jin per quarter just to meet the sect’s demands by year’s end.
Failing the harvest assessment carried a heavy price: the first offense required making up the deficit, the second stripped away hard-earned contribution points, and the third dragged the offender straight to the Punishment Hall.
The outcome would mirror Lin An’s tragic fate-reduced to nothing more than a plaything for the powerful.
If a disciple failed three consecutive times and had no points left to bleed, they would be cast out from the spirit farms and exiled from the Immortal Sect entirely, forced to wander as a lowly loose cultivator.
They would be stripped of all stable resources, forever losing the lofty privileges that came with the title of an Immortal Sect disciple.
Jiang Chen furrowed his brow. “I’ll wait one more day. If there’s still no sign of it breaking, I’ll seek out the Manager or the Field Master immediately.”
Admittedly, the heavens sometimes wept snow for days on end. But as a Spirit Farm Cultivation Envoy, he had to remain vigilant, treating every anomaly as a potential disaster.
Simply put, it was better to dig a trench before the flood than to drown in regret.
He leaned against the wooden window frame, silently studying the Water-Wood Rotation Script while watching the relentless white descent.
Time slipped away, bringing the dawn of the next day-the fourth day of unbroken snowfall.
Seeing the sky still choked with gray clouds and swirling frost, Jiang Chen could no longer sit idle.
In a blur of motion, he stepped out into the courtyard. A surging, invasive chill immediately swallowed him, seeping into every pore as if trying to freeze his flesh, his blood, and even his very soul.
Yet, for a Golden Core Perfected Master-especially one possessing a Heavenly-Grade Golden Core-such mundane hostility could be entirely ignored.
Unbothered by the biting cold, Jiang Chen swept his gaze across the valley with an expressionless face.
The roof of his rustic home groaned under the weight of accumulated snow, the dark clay tiles completely buried beneath the white mass.
Heavy clumps of ice hung precariously from the eaves, occasionally snapping off to hit the frozen earth with a dull, heavy thud.
The surrounding red maple trees, and even the towering poplar tree spirit, were visibly suffering under the unnatural weather.
The thicker branches bowed deeply, groaning under the crushing weight of the frost.
The thinner, more fragile limbs had already snapped, their jagged ends jutting out like broken bones.
Drifts of snow piled high against the stone walls, burying the foundations of his quiet sanctuary.
The only true sanctuary left was the ground immediately surrounding the ancient red maple tree.
It was shrouded in a faint, mysterious aura; any drifting snow that dared to approach was instantly melted into harmless mist.
If his secluded Red Leaf Valley was in such a dire state, he could only imagine the devastation wreaking havoc on the outside world.
Decisively, Jiang Chen summoned Shattered Moon Flowing Frost, stepping onto the blade as he streaked toward the core area of the spirit farms.
Along the way, nearly every spirit farm he passed was entombed in ice. As far as the eye could see, the world had been reduced to a desolate, blinding expanse of white.
Only the fields protected by glowing formations, alongside a handful of rare, resilient spirit plants, remained unscathed for the time being.
One such survivor was a towering golden sunflower. As a metal-attribute plant-akin to a cultivator possessing a metal spirit root-it radiated an intangible, cutting sharpness that shredded any snowflake daring to drift near its petals.
But the vast majority of the crops lacked such innate lethality.
The spirit farmers who had risked a winter planting, or those who had delayed their harvest, were now bleeding profound losses.
When Jiang Chen finally touched down at the flat-top mountain palace, he found the grand courtyard already packed with anxious cultivators.
Familiar faces like Zhao Ying, Wang Ze, and Ji Mingxuan stood among the crowd, every single one of them wearing a heavy, grave expression.
The newer disciples, like Ji Mingxuan, looked particularly devastated. They had arrived at the spirit farms eager to flaunt the techniques and experiences they had honed in the outside world, only to be met with an insurmountable natural disaster.
The snow had fallen without pause for days, and rather than tapering off, the heavy flurries had violently escalated into a blinding blizzard.
“Spirit Envoy Jiang is here!”
“Spirit Envoy Jiang!”
“Spirit Envoy Jiang, what should we do?”
The moment the crowd spotted him, it was as if they had found their anchor in a raging storm, and they immediately surged forward.
Seeing the panic in their eyes, Jiang Chen raised a hand to reassure them. “Everyone, calm down. This matter will be resolved.”
Had anyone else spoken those words, they would have been dismissed as empty comfort.
However, Jiang Chen’s reputation was built on a foundation of unshakeable competence, earning him deep respect not just within the spirit farms, but across the outer rings of the Immortal Sect.
Hearing his steady, confident tone, the frantic energy of the crowd genuinely began to settle.
Witnessing this seamless shift in morale, Ji Mingxuan thought to himself, It seems Jiang Chen holds a terrifyingly high position in the hearts of these spirit farmers. They might even revere him more than Elder Mu.
By then, Jiang Chen had already parted the crowd and walked up to Elder Mu, respectfully cupping his hands. “Manager.”
Elder Mu looked at him with solemn, ancient eyes. “I was just about to send word for you, but you’ve arrived on your own.”
Jiang Chen nodded. “As soon as I saw the blizzard thickening, I knew something was deeply wrong.”
Elder Mu lowered his voice. “Do you also believe this is a disaster event?”
Jiang Chen offered his grim analysis. “Judging from the sheer invasive nature of the frost, it bears an uncanny resemblance to the Cold Abyss Snow documented in the Spirit Plant Prohibition Record.
“The only anomaly is the timing of its arrival.”
Elder Mu stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You think it’s a delayed onset?”
Jiang Chen shook his head. “On the contrary. I believe it has arrived far ahead of schedule.”
A delayed disaster meant the natural laws were still somewhat within controllable limits.
An early arrival meant the underlying worldly laws had already fractured beyond their control.
And as any seasoned cultivator knew, once the heavens slipped the leash of predictability, the consequences were always catastrophic.
Elder Mu immediately replied, “I have already reported this to the Field Master. He wants you to head down to the Earth Vein and find the manager there, Yang Zhenyue. Tell him we need at least ten formation masters dispatched immediately to help us set up Warm Sun Arrays.”
Jiang Chen cupped his hands. “Understood. I will leave at once.”
He turned on his heel to depart, but Wang Ze suddenly stepped out from the anxious crowd. “I’ll accompany you.”
Catching the strange, urgent flicker in the man’s eyes-a silent plea that he had something private to share-Jiang Chen didn’t refuse. “Alright.”
Without another word, the two of them left the flat-top mountain palace, stepping back out into the howling blizzard.
Once they were a safe distance away, Wang Ze paused. He cast a cautious, sweeping glance over his shoulder before sending a tight thread of spiritual sense directly into Jiang Chen’s mind. “Junior Brother Jiang, you need to be careful.”
Jiang Chen paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”
Wang Ze’s voice echoed grimly in his mind. “Someone wants to harm you!”
