Jiang Chen’s current lifespan had already surpassed the five-hundred-year limit typical of a Golden Core cultivator.

Who would have guessed he was merely at the Foundation Establishment stage?

Even if he stopped harvesting lifespan from his plants today, he could live for over seven hundred years.

As for his rare spirit plants, he had already harvested the mutated Green Gourd. The other two varieties were not yet mature, so they remained untouched.

Jiang Chen turned his attention to the mundane tasks at hand. He divided the pile of dry straw into two halves.

One half remained on the first mu of his second-grade Spirit Farm. The other half was moved to the newly acquired second plot.

Once everything was arranged, he stood on the ridge between the fields and circulated his Qi.

[Blazing Oil Technique].

He channeled the Fire Spirit Power from his Dantian. His hands instantly turned a deep, searing crimson.

Whoosh.

Two balls of flame erupted from his palms. With a casual flick of his wrists, the fire detached and landed squarely on the two piles of straw.

The flames spread rapidly, consuming the dry stalks with a crisp sizzle-sizzle.

This was the traditional method of farming known as “Slash-and-Burn.”

The resulting ash contained various nutrients, acting as a natural fertilizer similar to Spirit Beast dung. It would significantly increase the fertility of the black soil.

The reflection of the dancing flames flickered in Jiang Chen’s eyes. He couldn’t help but sigh. “Since awakening my Fire Spirit Root, everything has become so much more convenient.”

The logic held up elsewhere, too.

If he awakened an Earth Spirit Root, he could till the soil himself. A Water Spirit Root would allow him to summon his own rain. A Metal Spirit Root would let him slaughter pests with precision.

If he possessed all five elements, he would be completely self-sufficient.

As time passed, the flames gradually died down. The mounds of straw had transformed into piles of warm, grey ash.

Jiang Chen opened a small storage pouch and retrieved a standard spirit tool—a rake. He walked to the first plot of the Spirit Farm and began to spread the ash evenly over the black soil.

Originally, this was a job for Tie Zhu. An Earth Spirit Root cultivator could churn and loosen the soil with far greater speed and efficiency.

But there was still no news from him.

Jiang Chen didn’t know if Tie Zhu had gone down to the thirty-eighth layer of the Earth Vein, or if he had successfully encountered the Yellow Earth Essence.

For now, Jiang Chen had to do it himself. It was labor-intensive, but at least it was safe.

Why not hire another Earth Spirit Root cultivator?

Strangers were liabilities. Without a history of cooperation, they couldn’t be trusted.

Using the rake, Jiang Chen methodically worked the ash into the soil. It was time-consuming for one person, but he found a certain rhythm in the solitude.

Once the ash was spread, the work wasn’t finished.

Jiang Chen hauled over the bags of Spirit Beast dung.

Using the same method, he began the second round of fertilization.

While ash increased fertility, it paled in comparison to high-quality manure. These droppings had been processed by the disciples of Beast Mountain; they were desiccated and odorless. A light tap with the rake caused the dried clumps to shatter into fine powder.

He finished the first mu and moved immediately to the second.

By the time both plots had undergone the slash-and-burn treatment, ash spreading, and fertilization, six hours had passed.

Jiang Chen rested the rake on his shoulder, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at the fruits of his labor with a satisfied smile.

“Once Old Mo finishes the rainfall, I can start the new planting cycle.”

He walked over to the irrigation ditch and dipped the rake into the water, scrubbing off the residue of ash and dung.

Once it looked clean enough, he stowed it back into his storage pouch and headed toward his wooden hut to prepare lunch.

About an hour later, a familiar voice shouted from outside.

“Old Jiang!”

Hearing the commotion, Jiang Chen walked out of the hut, holding two large slices of watermelon.

“You finally showed up.”

Mo Yu immediately launched into his excuse. “I went fishing in a river pretty far out this time, that’s why I’m late.”

Jiang Chen handed him a slice of melon. “So, did you actually catch anything?”

Mo Yu took the fruit and let out a proud chuckle. “A small crucian carp!”

Jiang Chen suppressed a laugh as Mo Yu violently bit into the watermelon.

“By the way,” Mo Yu said between mouthfuls, “I heard from the other fishing enthusiasts that the Black Dragon Pool seems safe now. The Fish Demon hasn’t appeared in a long time.”

Jiang Chen knew exactly why the demon hadn’t appeared. He had killed it.

He feigned ignorance. “Isn’t that a good thing? Now you can fish for the Dragon Carp without worrying about getting eaten.”

Mo Yu nodded vigorously. “That’s what I thought. When should the three of us head back to Black Dragon Pool?”

Jiang Chen took a step back, shaking his head with a polite smile. “I probably won’t have time to join you guys.”

“Eh?” Mo Yu paused, mid-chew. “What do you mean?”

Jiang Chen gestured to the two mu of second-grade Spirit Farm before them.

“As you can see, I have double the workload now. Where would I find the time to sit around fishing?”

More importantly, he had already caught every single Dragon Carp in the pool. Returning there would be a complete waste of time.

“True enough,” Mo Yu conceded.

“Besides,” Jiang Chen added casually, “I’ve entered a partnership with a Senior Alchemist from the Alchemy Hall. I need to supply him with medicinal herbs regularly. I’m tied down.”

Mo Yu’s eyes widened, nearly choking on a seed. “A Senior Alchemist?!”

Mo Yu wasn’t an expert on pills, but he knew enough. His successful breakthrough to Foundation Establishment had relied entirely on a Foundation Pill. He understood exactly how terrifyingly influential a Senior Alchemist was.

He hadn’t seen Jiang Chen for a few days, and suddenly the man had secured a backer in the Alchemy Hall? Did this mean he could use Jiang Chen’s connections to buy pills through the back door in the future?

The two chatted for a while longer, finishing off the watermelon.

Wiping his hands, Mo Yu stood up to cast the [Minor Rain Spell].

“Make sure to drop a little extra spiritual rain on the new plot on the right,” Jiang Chen instructed. “The nutrients in that black soil are still a bit thin.”

Once the job was done, Mo Yu didn’t linger.

He was in a rush to find Jin Fugui and plan their fishing trip to the Black Dragon Pool.

A rumor had been circulating through Beast Mountain: anyone who caught a Dragon Carp would be accepted as a direct disciple by a certain Golden Core elder who was obsessed with fishing.

For Mo Yu and Jin Fugui, this was a lifeline.

If they succeeded, they wouldn’t have to participate in the upcoming Formal Disciple Competition.

They both knew their own limits. Even if they participated, they would likely be eliminated in the first few rounds.

The competition was becoming insanely cutthroat. Even Shui Wuhen, the undisputed number one disciple of the Rain Pavilion, had dropped to seventh place on the pre-competition rankings.

If the geniuses were struggling, the fate of ordinary formal disciples was bleak.

Jiang Chen watched Mo Yu’s retreating figure and let out a low, amused laugh.

“Go ahead and fish,” he muttered to the empty air. “You won’t catch anything but silence.”