Deep in the night, snores like thunder rumbled from the Shack.

Chen Ping clenched the Jade Pendant tightly.

HUM.

His feet landed on solid ground. The faint light overhead remained constant.

His first glance went to the newly sown patch of earth.

The thousand small mounds of soil were still quiet. But upon closer inspection, the surfaces of some mounds already showed subtle signs of loosening, as if something was gently pushing from beneath.

Chen Ping crouched down, leaning close to one of the most noticeably loosened mounds. He held his breath and stared intently.

An incredibly weak, almost transparent sprout had stubbornly pushed aside a tiny grain of Black Earth and timidly poked its head out.

Not just one sprout, but several!

Thin as a hair, so fragile they seemed they could be snapped by a mere breath, yet they had truly emerged.

In a single hole!

Chen Ping’s heart gave a violent thump.

Success! They’ve sprouted!

And it seemed that sowing six seeds in one hole really could produce several seedlings.

Based on Chen Ping’s experience with mundane rice seeds, the time from sowing to sprouting was generally ten to fifteen days.

Yet in the Jade Pendant’s space, the Black Earth had produced Spirit Rice sprouts in just one day.

Did this mean the Black Earth could grow spirit plants at ten times the speed of ordinary Spirit Fields?

Chen Ping forcefully suppressed his excitement; he needed to continue observing to verify this conclusion.

He checked the neighboring mounds. Sure enough, many showed signs of loosening, and some even had more than one point of breakthrough visible.

Though they had just barely broken through and were far from maturity, this sight excited Chen Ping more than seeing a pile of gold.

He could already envision countless golden rice ears waving to him.

He carefully walked a circle around this newly sprouted seedbed. Only after confirming he saw no withering or abnormalities did he withdraw, his heart filled with reassurance.

In the following days, Chen Ping endured the torment of labor during the day, yet his mind was intensely focused.

He was like a sponge, observing everything around him. Especially things related to farming.

He needed tools.

Harvest six thousand stalks of Spirit Grain by pulling them out by hand? Using that hardwood stick to pry them?

Too slow. The efficiency would be terrifyingly low. He needed Sickles. Sharp Sickles.

The harvested rice ears needed threshing. Rubbing them off grain by grain by hand? Six thousand stalks? That would take forever.

He needed a Thresher!

He had seen the wooden threshers used by Mortal farmers—a toothed wooden wheel; turning the handle with rice ears fed in would knock the grains off. The Servant Peak department managing ordinary Spirit Fields must have similar things, likely larger and sturdier.

The threshed grains would still have husks. Removing the husks was necessary to obtain edible Spirit Rice. This required a Winnower and a Millstone.

The Winnower would separate husks and chaff; the Millstone would grind off the remaining bran.

These things existed within the sect!

But they were absolutely not something a mere Laborer like him could access. Those tools were stored in specific storerooms or tool sheds, guarded by Regular Disciples.

Buy them?

He was Penniless. The Gruel issued by the sect was barely enough to keep him alive; there was no monthly allowance whatsoever. Laborers were pure consumables.

Trade for them?

He possessed nothing of value. Utterly unrealistic.

The only remaining path was theft.

This thought instantly caused a layer of cold sweat to break out on Chen Ping’s back. Last time he stole something, it nearly scared his heart out of his chest.

Was he going to steal again this time?

Within the sect, the Rules were far too strict. Minor offenses could lead to having limbs crippled and being thrown out of the mountain gates to feed wild beasts; major offenses meant being beaten to death on the spot.

But if he didn’t steal, what then?

Watch the Spirit Grain harvest on the Black Earth rot away? Or waste immense amounts of time processing it bit by bit by hand?

Absolutely not!

Staying among crowds of people… over time, it was inevitable he would have moments of carelessness. If others discovered his secret… he would fall into an inescapable predicament.

The Jade Pendant space was his greatest reliance. Only the Jade Pendant space could pull him out of this bitter sea!

He had to become a Regular Disciple within a short time to avoid being discovered by others.

Over several days, Chen Ping repeatedly pondered the mechanism for entering and exiting with items via the Jade Pendant.

Bringing things in seemed to require physical contact. Last time, that seed was brought in because he clenched it in his palm.

So what about larger items like Sickles, Threshers, Winnowers, Millstones…?

He needed to get close to them, touch them with his hands, then try to bring them into the space when entering.

Extremely high risk.

Approaching those storerooms holding tools was dangerous in itself. If someone caught him while touching the tools…

Moreover, he didn’t know if the Jade Pendant could take such large objects away. If he failed, or if it caused some disturbance…

Chen Ping lay on his cold straw bedding, eyes open in the darkness.

On one side: immense risk. On the other: hope for changing his fate, seemingly within reach.

Suddenly, he remembered those few strands of white hair floating in the manure pit; he remembered his parents’ figures disappearing into the depths of the mine shaft.

He’d gamble!

He had to get those tools! Before the next harvest!

He had to steal all those tools!

In the following days, Chen Ping became even more silent and more observant.

Using opportunities like going Foraging or being sent far away for trash cleanup duty, he gingerly observed the terrain.

He needed to find a place with relatively lax security that stored the necessary tools.

Servant Peak covered a vast area. Besides zones for raising spirit beasts, there was also an area for cultivating ordinary spirit herbs and some Low-grade Spirit Grain for feeding spirit beasts.

This Spirit Field area was managed by some Regular Disciples.

Their tool shed stood by the field ridge—an inconspicuous wooden shack.

Chen Ping had observed it from afar several times while carrying pig grass on his back past it during daytime trips. The wooden shack wasn’t locked; its door was merely barred with a wooden stick.

During the daytime, people frequently went in and out to fetch or return tools. But by nightfall, this area was basically deserted.

The night watch disciples mainly focused on spirit beast pens and important storerooms; they didn’t pay much attention to this rundown shack growing fodder for spirit beasts. Moreover, what was stored inside were ordinary farming tools, not Immortal artifacts, so their value wasn’t high either way.

This likely contributed to the laxer security here.

Regardless, Chen Ping’s target became precisely this particular ‘Spirit Field Tool Shed’.

He needed to learn the patrol routes and timings at night first before attempting anything further.

This took Chen Ping two nights’ worth of effort. Feigning a stomachache allowed him to slip out from the shack unnoticed, then hide within the shadows observing patrol patterns carefully.

After the second night, he was confident.

Given Servant Peak’s large size, the patrol teams had limited manpower, focusing primarily around important beast pens, storerooms, and disciple residences. Other areas were less covered.

Specifically, regarding that spirit beast fodder field area, the patrol team passed through only once per night at a fixed time (around the end of the Hai Hour) quickly, without lingering long before moving onwards.

This left long gaps between passes, essentially creating a window of opportunity right after each pass.

Chen Ping began preparations accordingly.

He needed to act quickly. He couldn’t carry too much at once. Sickles were small volume-wise; he could steal one first. The Thresher, Winnower, and Millstone were all relatively large, requiring separate trips. Moreover, he must ensure he was able to bring them into the space successfully.

One step at a time. Tonight, he would start with the Sickle.