As the New Year drew closer, the temperature plummeted.

An absolute, biting cold descended, seeking to freeze the world into stillness. Even Da Huang and the guinea fowl had long since retreated, refusing to leave their warm nests. Only the Fortress—a puppet that knew neither heat nor cold—remained standing in the yard, completely unaffected by the frost.

Sickle in hand, Jiang Chen stepped onto the ridge of his first mu of Second-Grade Spirit Farm.

In the central farming districts, most Spirit Farmers abandoned their fields during the winter months. The freezing weather stifled the Spirit Rice, drastically reducing yields. It was a losing battle for most.

Unless, like Jiang Chen, one had maximized their cultivation arts to the limit. He walked with the confidence and assurance that only absolute mastery could provide.

He swept his spiritual sense across the field. Instantly, the status of every plant flooded his mind.

As expected, the Spirit Rice remained the anchor of his harvest. Regardless of the season or how many cycles he forced, as long as the nutrients were sufficient, the yield held steady at the theoretical limit for a Second-Grade field.

Since acquiring the second mu of land, Jiang Chen had largely neglected the common crops, focusing his attention—and his cheats—on the rare spiritual plants. Back when he had only one field, he would use the Spirit Finger technique daily. Now, he only used it when the whim struck him.

But today, the Wood Spirit Power in his dantian was overflowing. He could afford to be generous.

As he moved through the rows, sickle rising and falling, he tapped the air with his finger, casting the technique at random.

Ding.

Ding.

The one-in-a-thousand probability was notoriously stubborn. The Spirit Rice, as usual, refused to mutate. However, the vegetable patch delivered two surprises in quick succession.

A sweet potato. A cabbage.

Jiang Chen paused, surprised by the dramatic transformation of these two vegetables.

The sweet potato had swollen in size, its skin mapped with pulsing, crimson-red veins. Jiang Chen possessed a mutated Thunder-Fire Spirit Root; he could instantly feel the scorching heat radiating from the tuber.

Unexpectedly, the System—usually silent and indifferent—suddenly displayed a detailed prompt.

[Mutated Ember Yam]

Effect: After consumption, Fire-attribute spell power is temporarily increased by +15%.

Negative Effect: If the consumer’s attributes are incompatible, consumption will trigger [Heartburn Syndrome].

Jiang Chen’s gaze shifted to the cabbage.

Normally, a mature cabbage in winter would be a vibrant green. This one, however, was crystal clear, its leaves resembling carved ice. Pale blue spiritual light flowed through its veins like liquid mercury, and despite its larger size, it emitted waves of bone-chilling cold.

[Frost Cabbage]

Effect: Grants immunity to low-tier Ice-attribute damage for a duration after consumption.

Effect: Purges fire poison accumulated in the body from Fire-attribute cultivation arts.

Jiang Chen stared at the holographic text, momentarily stunned.

Two vegetables from the same mu of land had mutated in completely opposite directions. Ice and Fire, two extremes, mutually restraining each other.

He glanced toward the neighboring field, where the Golden Crow Vine grew. Could it be the influence of the Vine clashing with the Moonlight Grass?

More importantly, the System’s behavior had changed. In the past, it treated mutated vegetables with disdain, offering no data whatsoever. It had acted like an indifferent shopkeeper who couldn’t be bothered to explain the merchandise.

Now, it was being exceptionally “enthusiastic.”

Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes. “Previously, mutations only affected size and taste. This time, they’ve been endowed with elemental attributes.”

Was it the result of the Spirit Finger? Or an environmental shift?

He shook his head. Speculating was meaningless. He swung his sickle and finished the harvest.

With the entire Second-Grade field cleared, the rewards were staggering.

His lifespan, previously burned for crafting, had not only recovered but broken through a new threshold: seven hundred years. A Foundation Establishment Spirit Farmer with seven centuries of life ahead of him—if word got out, the cultivation world would lose its collective mind.

His stockpile of Top-Quality Spirit Rice was equally absurd. He had officially breached the ten thousand jin mark.

He mentally tallied his accounts: eight hundred jin for Chen Tian, one hundred fifty for Jin Fugui, five hundred for the Loose Cultivator market, and three hundred set aside for brewing Top-Quality Spirit Wine.

Even after all that, his granary was overflowing.

Jiang Chen returned to his wooden house, shutting the door against the biting wind. He had made a decision.

From now until the New Year, he was done with common farming. No more ordinary vegetables, no more standard Spirit Rice. He would devote all his energy to the Mutated Spirit Rice.

The plan was to transplant the Variant Mother Rice and conduct a proper experiment. He needed to know exactly how much yield a single mu of Second-Grade land could produce from the mutated strain. The Spirit Qi density in the Mutated Rice far exceeded the Top-Quality variety, meaning his cultivation efficiency would skyrocket.

But there was another reason. The main reason, really.

After nearly a year of relentless grinding—caring for rare plants day and night, studying cultivation arts, and mastering spells—Jiang Chen wanted to slack off.

Sure, the constant work had tempered his Spirit Power, but it had also left him physically and mentally drained. He deserved a break.

Inside the warm room, he didn’t immediately collapse onto his bed to “lie like a corpse.” Instead, he pulled the [Frost Cabbage] from his storage and placed it on the table.

Though severed from the black soil and its roots, the cabbage’s potency hadn’t diminished. Within moments, a thin layer of white frost crept across the wooden table.

Jiang Chen studied the freezing vegetable. “If I remember the records correctly, the heart of a Frost Cabbage has a slim chance of gestating an Ice Soul Orb.”

It was a lottery ticket, similar to the Earth Lotus seeds he had farmed previously. The probability was low, but the potential payout was massive.

An Ice Soul Orb was a treasure. Even a tiny one could help a cultivator gradually purify a Water Spirit Root into a coveted Ice Spirit Root. It could also be forged into a high-grade artifact, granting it terrifying freezing power.

The current market price was steep. A grain-sized orb fetched two hundred Mid-grade Spirit Stones. A bean-sized one could command three to four hundred. Anything larger started at five hundred.

Size mattered. The bigger the orb, the stronger the effect, and the higher the price.

Jiang Chen didn’t reach for a kitchen knife. As a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator with a Wood Spirit Root, hacking away at a spiritual plant with common steel would be disgraceful.

He circulated the max-level [Green Lotus Art].

Rich Wood Spirit Qi surged from his dantian, enveloping the cabbage. Under his precise control, the crystal-like leaves began to peel away, unfurling layer by layer like an onion.

As the core was exposed, a brilliant light flooded the room.

There, nestled in the heart of the vegetable, was a blue-white bead the size of a fingernail, emitting a dreamlike, azure radiance.