The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

Chapter 280: Long Xiyao

Jiang Chen sat by the window, leisurely sipping his tea while admiring the view outside.

After a long silence, Shen Peng finally spoke up. “Fellow Daoist Cai, about the matter we discussed last time… have you given it any thought?”

“What matter?” Jiang Chen blinked, momentarily blanking.

Shen Peng gave an awkward chuckle. “Opening a wine branch in Mystic Heart City.”

“Ah, that.” Jiang Chen nodded in realization. “I’ve been swamped lately. Let me think about it a bit longer.”

Shen Peng didn’t dare press him. He nodded meekly, but hesitated for a moment before asking, “In that case… would you be willing to meet someone from the Long Clan?”

Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow. “The Long Clan sent someone?”

“They did,” Shen Peng explained hurriedly. “A while back, my father and I visited Mystic Heart City and met with their representatives. We discussed your Spirit Wine at length. They’re extremely interested in the product—and the brewer. Now, they’ve sent a young representative to meet you personally.”

Jiang Chen chuckled. “So, you were waiting to ambush me with this.”

Shen Peng’s face went pale, and he waved his hands frantically. “No, no! If you don’t want to meet, we won’t force it. We’ll send them back to Mystic Heart City immediately.”

Jiang Chen tapped his finger on the table, thoughtful. “Tell me about this representative.”

Relieved that Jiang Chen wasn’t angry, Shen Peng exhaled and produced a Reflecting Mirror. “Her name is Long Xiyao. She’s in her early twenties and has already reached Foundation Establishment Perfection. Rumor has it she possesses a Mutated Water Spirit Root and has been taken as a core disciple by a Nascent Soul True Lord of the Inviting Moon Immortal Sect. Her personality is… quite spirited.”

Jiang Chen took the mirror. The image that surfaced surprised him.

The woman in the reflection was stunning. Her brows were like strokes of ink in a painting, her eyes clear autumn pools holding the depth of an ocean. Her skin was white as congealed fat, glowing with a pearlescent luster.

Her nose was high and elegant, her lips naturally red as cherries. A faint smile played on her face, revealing shallow dimples.

Her hair was pinned with a clasp inlaid with deep-sea pearls, adding a soft, noble halo to her appearance. She wore a long dress of white mermaid silk, the hem flowing with hidden patterns that rippled like water. Tied around her ankle with sea-blue silk was a small, jade-colored shell.

Overall, she radiated purity and beauty, spiced with a hint of playfulness.

“Spirited?” Jiang Chen asked, looking up.

Shen Peng coughed awkwardly. “She… really enjoys cross-dressing as a man and teasing people.”

Jiang Chen smirked. “Well, seeing as she’s this beautiful, I suppose I can spare the time.”

Shen Peng’s eyes lit up. “Excellent! I’ll arrange it and notify you the moment the time is set.”

He stood up immediately and hurried out of the private room to make preparations.

Jiang Chen wasn’t in a rush. He continued to drink the strong, fragrant tea, waiting for nightfall. After all, one of the main reasons he came to the Loose Cultivator Market was to indulge in “flower wine.” Going now would be a bit too early.

He waited for another hour.

When the sky had turned completely dark, Jiang Chen finally left the Longing for Spring Teahouse, strolling unhurriedly toward the Fragrance Pavilion.

The streets were buzzing.

“Have you heard? The Red Tiger Squad hunted a Nightmare Wolf King!”

“Heard? The whole city knows! They say it even alarmed the Sen Clan’s upper management!”

“Heavens, Red Tiger is going to rise to the top rankings for sure.”

Everywhere he walked, the conversation revolved around Red Tiger. They had become instant celebrities in Green City. Jiang Chen only cared about one thing: when he would get his cut of the profits.

He arrived at the Fragrance Pavilion.

The familiar scent of rouge and cheap powder. The familiar rowdy atmosphere. The familiar desperate faces of the loose cultivators on the first floor.

Jiang Chen pulled out a handful of Spirit Stones with practiced ease. Surrounded by a flock of cooing beauties, he ascended to the second floor and chose a table near the railing.

Xiao Taohong was already occupied, casting him an apologetic glance from across the room. Jiang Chen didn’t mind. His gaze swept the floor and landed on a familiar figure.

Yue’er.

The fallen princess who had been sold into the pavilion.

Compared to when she first arrived—frightened and fragile—she now exuded a practiced, devastating charm. Every smile, every gesture was engineered to hook the soul. Surprisingly, she was currently free.

Jiang Chen didn’t hesitate. He signaled for her immediately, leaving several slower patrons stomping their feet in regret.

A gust of fragrant wind, and Yue’er was in his arms.

She felt like a basket of freshly steamed glutinous rice cakes—warm, soft, and sweet.

“It seems the environment really can change a person,” Jiang Chen chuckled, pouring a cup of wine.

Yue’er’s smile didn’t waver, though her eyes dimmed slightly. “This servant has to live, my lord.”

“How long do you want to live?”

Yue’er paused, thinking carefully. Then, with a sudden, fierce clarity: “Until the day of my revenge.”

Jiang Chen shook his head. “A pity you have no Spirit Root. You cannot cultivate. You are ultimately a mortal.”

A mortal’s life span was a hundred years at best. Given Yue’er’s profession, she would be lucky to see forty. The Fragrance Pavilion drained life as quickly as it filled purses.

Yue’er narrowed her eyes, a strange light flickering in her pupils. “Im… Immortal…”

Thump, thump, thump.

Heavy footsteps interrupted them. A man rushed up to their table, breathless and agitated.

He was dressed in black martial attire, his long hair tied in a sharp ponytail with a simple ebony hairpin. His sword-brows were raised high, his eyes long and narrow. He cut a dashing, if slightly aggressive, figure.

“Yue’er!” the man demanded, ignoring Jiang Chen. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Yue’er blinked, then dipped her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Young Master Long. I cannot easily decide who I receive. And… you are late.”

“I received a message! I was delayed!” Young Master Long protested.

Yue’er glanced at Jiang Chen. “This Immortal Master has already paid.”

Young Master Long frowned, finally turning to size up Jiang Chen. Seeing a painfully ordinary loose cultivator, he scoffed. He slammed ten Mid-grade Spirit Stones onto the table.

“Take these and get lost. Yue’er is mine tonight!”

Jiang Chen set down his wine cup. He looked at the stones, then at the man.

“I’ll take the Spirit Stones,” Jiang Chen said calmly. “But Yue’er is yours tomorrow.”

Ten Mid-grade Spirit Stones for free? He wasn’t going to say no to free money. But he hadn’t expected to stumble into a jealous rivalry drama tonight.

Young Master Long’s face darkened instantly. “What did you say?”

Jiang Chen stood up. He was a full head taller than the interloper, looking down with amused condescension. “I spoke clearly. The money is mine. The girl is yours tomorrow.”

“You…!” Young Master Long gritted his teeth, fuming.

Jiang Chen, a master of disguise himself, squinted at the angry young “man.”

Something was off.

The sword-brows were drawn on too high. The eyes were elongated with dark rouge. The chin had fake stubble glued to it.

And the features underneath… they looked familiar.

“Long Xiyao?” Jiang Chen asked tentatively.

The “Young Master” froze. Panic flashed visibly across his face. He stumbled back, waving his hands frantically.

“What? Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know any Long Xiyao!”