Jiang Chen set aside his own chores to prioritize the harvest for Senior Brother Li. After preparing breakfast and lunch for his two spirit beasts, he stepped onto his Giant Leaf and ascended into the sky.

He arrived at Chen Bo’s Spirit Farm shortly after, spotting his host waiting in the pavilion. Jiang Chen guided the Giant Leaf to a gentle landing and smiled.

“Senior Brother, I’m here.”

Chen Bo nodded, getting straight to business. “The Rainbow Orchids are fully mature. You can start harvesting whenever you’re ready.”

Jiang Chen glanced over the fields. His eyes lingered on the neighboring plot, where the single stalk of Mutated Golden Spirit Rice from before had multiplied into several dozen plants.

Noticing Jiang Chen’s gaze, Chen Bo offered an explanation before he could ask. “I plan to gradually reduce the ordinary Spirit Rice crop to focus on the mutated Golden variant.”

“Why the shift?” Jiang Chen asked, surprised.

For a Spirit Farmer, stability was everything. Without a consistent yield of standard Spirit Rice, income plummeted. While the Mutated Golden Spirit Rice was valuable, its growth cycle was excruciatingly long. More importantly, it required expensive formations to channel specific Metal Spirit Qi.

“It’s for Chen Tian,” Chen Bo said solemnly. “We need to maximize his chances of breaking through to form an Earth-Grade Golden Core. Since he possesses a three-element Spirit Root, it is best if he consumes high-grade Spirit Rice corresponding to each of his attributes.”

If they didn’t have the mutated variant, Top-quality Spirit Rice would be the default choice. But in terms of absorption, conversion, and spiritual purity, elementally aligned rice was superior.

Jiang Chen understood immediately. Whether he or Chen Bo rose in the world depended entirely on the strength of their patron. Chen Tian was their anchor. If Chen Tian secured an Earth-Grade Golden Core, their status would rise with the tide.

If he failed—retaining only his status as a core disciple but losing his momentum—their resources would dry up. They might not even be able to maintain their current team.

In the cultivation world, strength was the only currency that mattered.

An Earth-Grade Golden Core commanded respect. A Human-Grade one did not.

Why had Feng Xiao fallen into demonic cultivation? Because he couldn’t stomach the reality of his failure to achieve a higher-grade Golden Core. Accepting mediocrity was a pill many cultivators choked on.

Jiang Chen kicked off his shoes, grabbed a sickle, and stepped into the paddy.

Having harvested Rainbow Orchids before, his movements were practiced and fluid. As he worked, he extended his spiritual sense and noticed a subtle shift in the crop’s quality.

Senior Brother Li’s farming skills had improved.

In previous harvests, the crop was usually two or three days past the optimal window for peak quality. This time, he was only a day off from reaching the Top-quality threshold. The narrower the gap between High-quality and Top-quality, the deeper the farmer’s understanding of the plant.

It seems I’m not the only one improving, Jiang Chen mused.

Despite their familiarity, Jiang Chen didn’t reveal his full hand. Even now that he had reached Foundation Establishment, he adhered to a strict policy of caution. He suppressed his technique, deliberately harvesting at a pace and quality that was impressive but not monstrously perfect.

He had the System and maxed-out skills; he could hit the harvest window down to the second. But normal cultivators couldn’t do that. Being “pretty good” was safe; being perfect was suspicious.

Chen Bo handed him a cup of wine as he stepped out of the field. “Hard work, Junior Brother.”

Jiang Chen accepted the cup, grinning. “Senior Brother, are you about to break through to the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment?”

Chen Bo blinked, genuinely surprised. “How could you tell?”

“You’ve started surveying the boundaries for a third acre of land over there,” Jiang Chen said, gesturing to the empty plot.

Chen Bo laughed, shaking his head. “I forgot about that dead giveaway.” He sighed, his expression softening. “Ever since I lost to Huo Ling on the Fire Peak arena, I’ve been cultivating like a madman. I couldn’t let it stand.”

Huo Ling was his childhood sweetheart. That loss had evidently lit a fire under him.

“It paid off,” Chen Bo admitted. “I’m only a step away from the mid-stage now.”

“Three acres of Grade-2 Spirit Farm…” Jiang Chen calculated aloud, envy coloring his tone. “That’s an annual income of at least 500 Mid-grade Spirit Stones.”

“Don’t mock me,” Chen Bo joked. “I can’t compare to you. You do a little business on the side and rake in twenty stones a day.”

“That was the golden age,” Jiang Chen waved a dismissive hand. “Back when franchisees were lining up, sure. But after the incident with Xu Liang, things slowed down. And with the Formal Disciple Competition coming up, everyone is hoarding resources. I expect the income to dry up completely soon.”

They chatted idly over their wine. Jiang Chen felt the dynamic shifting; since the dinner party the previous night, Chen Bo had dropped his “serious Senior Brother” facade, acting far more relaxed.

Suddenly, a vibration buzzed from Jiang Chen’s storage bag.

He pulled out a Communication Talisman, which was flashing rhythmically. He glanced at Chen Bo for permission before activating it.

“Junior Brother,” a familiar voice came through. It was Wang Ze. “Do you remember I mentioned needing to visit the Alchemy Hall to find someone?”

“I remember,” Jiang Chen replied. “I’ve been waiting for your signal.”

“Are you free today?”

“I am.”

“Good. Come to my place this afternoon. We’ll head to the Alchemy Hall together.”

“Understood.”

Jiang Chen stowed the talisman, anticipation bubbling in his chest. A connection at the Alchemy Hall could be lucrative.

Chen Bo stood up and walked toward the harvested orchids. “If you have business, don’t let me keep you.”

Jiang Chen glanced at the sun. It was high overhead—peak lunchtime.

“It is getting late,” Jiang Chen noted, hinting heavily. “Right around noon, actually.”

Chen Bo stiffened. His eyes darted away. “Ah! That reminds me! I just remembered an urgent matter I haven’t dealt with. I have to go out immediately. What a shame, I can’t host you for lunch.”

Jiang Chen watched him, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Unbelievable. Another failed meal mooch.

The excuse was flimsy, but the message was clear: No free lunch today.

Resigned, Jiang Chen stood up and took his leave. However, instead of heading home, he steered his Giant Leaf toward Wang Ze’s Spirit Farm.

If Senior Brother Li was too cheap to feed him, surely Senior Brother Wang wouldn’t be. Wang Ze was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life; his meals were always exquisite.

The flight was short. As the ten-acre expanse of Wang Ze’s farm came into view, Jiang Chen’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. He descended, landing softly outside the fence gate.

“Senior Brother Wang!” he called out cheerfully.

Silence.

There was no movement inside the cottage. No response from the fields.

Jiang Chen’s heart gave a sudden, hard thump. An ominous feeling washed over him, cold and sharp.

He immediately retrieved Wang Ze’s Communication Talisman from his pouch and flooded it with Wood Spirit Qi.