The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

By the time Jiang Chen left the Earth Fire Zone and returned to his Spirit Farm, night had fully descended.

The farm was quiet. Da Huang and the pearl chickens were curled up in their nests, fast asleep. Under the old poplar tree, Fortress stood motionless, resembling a withered stump blending into the shadows.

Too drained to cook, Jiang Chen collapsed onto his bed. He didn’t sleep immediately, instead spending the quiet hours mentally reviewing the Scorching Sun Finger manual.

It wasn’t until the deep hours of the night that mental exhaustion overtook him, and he finally drifted off.

However, his rest was short-lived. At six o’clock sharp, his eyes snapped open.

Years of farming had forged an ironclad biological clock. Unless he was on the verge of collapse, he would always wake at dawn.

He stretched, enjoying the fact that he no longer had to rush out for the dirty work. Menial tasks like clearing manure and weeding were now Fortress’s responsibility.

Jiang Chen walked out to the second mu of the Spirit Farm, checking on the precious Variant Mother Rice and its offspring. Seeing that the crop was healthy, he summoned his Companion Green Lotus.

A verdant light rippled out, forming the Green Lotus Domain.

He poured Qi into the plants, effectively “pulling up the seedlings to help them grow.” In normal agriculture, this haste would kill the crop, but under the nourishment of the Green Lotus, the stalks surged upward with vitality.

Satisfied, he turned back toward the stone house.

Today was going to be busy. After finishing his morning chores, he planned to head straight to the Loose Cultivator market.

It was a few days earlier than his agreed appointment with the Shen family, but he had no choice. In six days, he had to return to the Pill Tower to collect the Yin-Yang Interlace Pill. The schedules conflicted, so he had to move the sale up.

Soon, the kitchen was filled with a symphony of clanging pots and chopping knives.

The culinary chaos lasted for nearly an hour.

Jiang Chen wasn’t just cooking breakfast; he was prepping breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Da Huang and the pearl chickens in one massive batch.

He didn’t serve it immediately. Instead, he handed the massive stockpile of food to Fortress, who wasn’t on patrol duty today, instructing the puppet to feed the animals at set times.

Da Huang required special attention. That dog was a bottomless pit who did nothing but eat, sleep, and poop.

With the household logistics settled, Jiang Chen stepped onto his Giant Leaf artifact and shot toward Fire Peak.

The winter chill was biting, leaving the roads below deserted. Fire Peak, usually bustling, saw a significant drop in foot traffic during the freezing months. Even the street vendors were scarce.

However, the fervor of the martial world ignored the weather. The arena platforms were still active, the sounds of combat ringing through the cold air.

Jiang Chen watched from above, calculating the timeline. “The Formal Disciple Grand Competition should be starting next spring. No wonder everyone is training like their lives depend on it.”

As he swept his gaze across the arenas, a familiar figure caught his eye.

Chen Bo!

He was standing on Arena Platform No. 7, locked in combat with a cultivator wielding a Metal Spirit Root.

It was a bad matchup. Wood was weak to Metal, forcing Chen Bo onto the defensive. He was being suppressed, dodging constantly to avoid being sliced apart.

But as the fight dragged on, he didn’t collapse.

Chen Bo moved with a grit that hadn’t been there before. Between desperate dodges, he launched sharp, calculated counterattacks.

His eyes were resolute. His expression was grim and focused.

Compared to the broken man from a few months ago, he looked like he had been completely reborn.

Jiang Chen hovered for a moment, genuinely surprised. “It seems the last incident hit Senior Brother Chen hard. He’s actually putting in the work.”

The fact that Chen Bo was here so early in the morning suggested he didn’t want to be seen by acquaintances. Jiang Chen respected the privacy and flew on without descending.

An hour later, Jiang Chen arrived smoothly at Green City, home of the Loose Cultivator market.

He followed his standard protocol: apply a disguise, then investigate the market rates for Spirit Rice.

For Tier-1 Spirit Rice, the market was stable, with only minor fluctuations in the Top-quality bracket.

Tier-2 Spirit Rice, however, showed significant volatility.

Overall, the prices for low-grade and high-quality Tier-2 rice had dropped. It was approaching the New Year, and many Loose Cultivator farmers were dumping their stock to liquidate assets for the holidays, flooding the market.

However, Top-quality Tier-2 Spirit Rice was the outlier. Demand was surging while supply remained critically low, driving the price up.

Jiang Chen noted the trend. “I’ll wait. If the exchange ratio hits 1:1, I’ll dump a portion of my stock.”

For now, he switched from seller to buyer. He purchased one thousand jin of high-quality Tier-2 Spirit Rice in a single transaction.

This wasn’t for eating; it was raw material for brewing high-quality Spirit Wine.

Originally, five hundred jin would have sufficed, but the price dip was too tempting to ignore. He bought enough to keep his brewing vats full for at least half a year.

After leaving the rice trading post, Jiang Chen retrieved Shen Peng’s Communication Talisman.

He decided to handle the business with the Shen family first—collecting his share of last month’s wine profits—before dedicating the rest of the day to a shopping spree.

He needed furniture. The wooden plank bed had to go. He was a Foundation Establishment cultivator now; there was no reason to break his back on a slab of plywood every night.

He also needed alchemy recipes, a proper furnace, and forging tools. If he got lucky, he might even find texts on Puppetry.

Basically, he was going to be swamped. He had no time to haggle or chitchat.

He sent a brief message: “I’ve arrived at the market.”

At that moment, Shen Peng and his partner, Lei Yunna, were still curled up in bed.

When the notification lit up, Shen Peng scrambled out from under the warm covers as if the bed were on fire.

Lei Yunna groaned, eyeing him with playful resentment. “Why is it that every time this person messages you, you act like you’ve been shot full of adrenaline?”

Shen Peng grinned while pulling on his trousers. “You don’t understand. This is our family’s God of Wealth.”

Lei Yunna pouted. “Are you sure you aren’t keeping a secret lover outside?”

Shen Peng’s smile froze. He shot her a dry look. “I can barely handle you. You think I have the energy for a mistress?”

Lei Yunna giggled, burying her face in the pillow. “You rascal~”

Shen Peng finished dressing in record time and rushed out. Moments later, he arrived at the Hope for Spring teahouse, located directly opposite the Evergreen Wine Shop.

He headed straight for the private room ‘Yi’ on the third floor.

“You’re here,” Jiang Chen greeted him with a faint smile.

“Fellow Daoist Cai,” Shen Peng asked, slightly out of breath. “Why the early visit this time?”

“After this transaction, I won’t be back until after the New Year,” Jiang Chen explained.

Without further preamble, Jiang Chen waved his hand over the table.

Thud.

He transferred five hundred jin of Top-quality Spirit Rice and two thousand jin of high-quality Spirit Wine from his storage bag. The sheer volume filled the room with a rich, spiritual aroma.

Shen Peng’s eyes bulged. “This much?”

“I told you, I’m not coming back for a while. I figured I’d stock you up.”

Shen Peng stared at the mountain of goods. He quickly retrieved five Mid-grade Spirit Stones for the deposit, but his expression turned nervous.

“Fellow Daoist Cai… there’s been a slight change. Initially, I was managing the wine shop myself. But as the clientele grew, we started attracting major figures in Green City—people with status and power.”

He swallowed hard. “Because of the wine’s popularity, my father has personally taken over the shop’s management.”

In truth, the wine Jiang Chen provided had become more than just a beverage; it was a social currency. For the Shen family, bringing out a jar of this wine was practically a guarantee that a business deal would succeed. It was too important to leave in the hands of a junior.

Jiang Chen nodded calmly. “We’ve done business many times. I trust your family.”

Shen Peng let out a long breath, the tension draining from his shoulders. “Thank you for your trust.”

He immediately pulled out his Communication Talisman to contact his father, Shen Rong.

Within moments, the reply came back. The calculations were done.

The previous batch of five hundred jin of wine had sold out completely.

At fifteen Low-grade Spirit Stones per jin, that was… 7,500 Low-grade Spirit Stones.