My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

Chapter 155: Refusing to Take a Master

The news spread like wildfire.

Alchemists and apprentices from all over Pill Cauldron Peak abandoned their stations and rushed to the quiet room. They stared at the young figure standing at the entrance, their eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and deep reverence.

“Chen Ping? That newly promoted Foundation Establishment Elder?”

“My heavens… how did he do it?”

“Foundation Establishment before 30 and a Tier 2 Alchemist… This is monster-level talent.”

“He looks like an immortal walking out of a painting.”

“Idiot, you’re looking at the real thing, not a painting!”

The buzz of discussion grew louder, a swarm of shocked whispers.

In the chaos, no one noticed when Elder Sun vanished from the hall.

And no one noticed when he returned.

But when he did, the air changed.

A vast, abyssal pressure descended upon Pill Cauldron Peak. It was not violent, but it was heavy, suffocating, and carried an aura of ancient, restrained power.

Silence fell instantly.

An old man appeared at the entrance of the quiet room. He had manifested without a sound, as if he had simply stepped out of the air itself. He wore simple gray robes, and though his hair was white as crane feathers, his face had the smooth, unblemished skin of a child. His eyes were warm and moist, holding a depth of wisdom that seemed to pierce through the mortal coil.

The crowd trembled.

This was the Qingyun Sect’s Violet Palace powerhouse. The Peak Tier 3 Alchemy Grandmaster.

Supreme Elder, Li Xingyi!

Every spine bent. Every head lowered. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

Li Xingyi’s gaze landed on Chen Ping. It was a look of undisguised appreciation and intense curiosity.

He spoke slowly, his voice calm, yet it resonated clearly in everyone’s ears, vibrating in their very bones.

“Child, you are very good. I am Li Xingyi. I have observed your exceptional talent in the Dao of Alchemy. Although your foundation is slightly weak, your potential is boundless.”

The Supreme Elder smiled benevolently.

“Are you willing to enter my tutelage? To become my personal disciple and inherit my mantle?”

Boom!

The crowd mentally exploded.

The Supreme Elder was personally offering mentorship?

This was a glory beyond measure! It was a golden ticket to the heavens!

Countless gazes locked onto Chen Ping—envy, jealousy, and awe burning in their eyes.

Elder Sun was so excited his fingers trembled. He stared at Chen Ping, his eyes practically screaming: ‘Agree! Hurry up and agree!’

But Chen Ping’s heart sank like a stone.

‘Take a master?’

He looked at the benevolent old man, his internal alarm bells ringing deafeningly.

‘Become a disciple under a Violet Palace Grandmaster?’

To others, this was a heaven-sent opportunity. To him, it was a death sentence.

If he wanted a master, he would have accepted the Headmaster’s offer long ago. Why wait until now?

Li Xingyi was a Violet Palace powerhouse. His Divine Sense was terrifyingly potent.

If Chen Ping became his disciple, they would interact daily. Li Xingyi would guide his cultivation, monitor his progress, and scrutinize his techniques. Under such intense observation, the risk of exposing his greatest secret—the Jade Pendant—would skyrocket exponentially.

The Jade Pendant space was his foundation. It was the root of his survival.

Compared to the safety of the Pendant, the inheritance of a Tier 3 Alchemist was trash. A “backing” was worthless if it got him killed.

Chen Ping didn’t hesitate for even a second.

He met Li Xingyi’s gentle, penetrating gaze and bowed deeply, his posture respectful but his tone unyielding.

“Disciple Chen Ping pays respects and thanks the Supreme Elder for his great favor! The Elder’s alchemy skills are profound, and this disciple has admired you for a long time.”

The crowd held its breath.

“However,” Chen Ping continued, his voice steady, “this disciple knows his own nature. I am idle, unfocused, and accustomed to freedom. I fear I would be unable to wholeheartedly serve at Master’s side and would ultimately disappoint the Elder’s high expectations.”

He paused, then delivered the final blow.

“Moreover, regarding the Dao of Alchemy, this disciple prefers to explore and comprehend the path alone. Although my progress may be slow and dull-witted, this is the direction of my Dao Heart. I earnestly request the Elder to rescind his offer!”

Silence.

Deathly, suffocating silence.

The onlookers were dumbfounded. They stared at Chen Ping as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.

Refused?

He actually refused the Supreme Elder?

Elder Sun’s jaw unhinged. His eyes bulged, threatening to pop out of his skull. He couldn’t comprehend it. Who refuses a step to the sky?!

Li Xingyi looked deeply at Chen Ping.

His gaze seemed to drill through Chen Ping’s physical form, seeking the truth hidden in the depths of his soul.

Chen Ping held his breath, his back slick with cold sweat.

After several agonizing seconds, Li Xingyi spoke.

“Each person has their own aspirations. Fate cannot be forced. So be it.”

His tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger.

Before the last syllable had faded, his figure blurred. He dissolved into the wind, disappearing as instantly as he had arrived.

The crushing pressure vanished with him.

It took a long time for the frozen atmosphere on Pill Cauldron Peak to thaw.

When the crowd looked at Chen Ping again, the reverence was gone. It was replaced by a complex mix of confusion, pity, and a faint trace of disdain.

They looked at him like he was a monster. A foolish, arrogant monster who didn’t know what was good for him.

Chen Ping ignored them all.

He could feel the dampness of his shirt clinging to his back.

The Supreme Elder was a figure of high status and broad mind. Being refused might have been unexpected, but a Violet Palace expert wouldn’t lower himself to make things difficult for a junior over a bruised ego.

Besides, taking a master was meaningless.

Most cultivators sought masters for resources or background.

Resources? Chen Ping had plenty.

Background?

Useful, perhaps. But ultimately, a background was like a chicken rib—tasteless to eat, yet a pity to discard. It was a hollow luxury.

In a life-and-death battle, who cared about your background? They would kill you first and worry about your master later.

‘Forging iron requires your own body to be hard,’ Chen Ping thought, calming his racing heart. ‘External power is an illusion. Only my own strength is real.’

“Hoo…”

He let out a long breath.

He had dodged a bullet. And in doing so, he had completed the first step of his plan.

He turned to Elder Sun, who was still standing there in a daze.

“Elder Sun.”

Chen Ping’s voice broke the trance.

“Since I have passed the Tier 2 Alchemist assessment, according to Sect rules… am I now qualified to recruit disciples and impart my knowledge?”

Elder Sun snapped back to reality. He looked at Chen Ping with a complicated expression, shaking his head slightly at the wasted opportunity.

Finally, he nodded, his voice dry.

“Naturally. A Tier 2 Alchemist is qualified to hold classes and accept disciples within the Sect. You may also personally scout and recruit disciples with alchemy talent to nurture as your own. You only need to register their names with the Alchemy Hall.”

“Thank you, Senior Brother.”

Chen Ping cupped his hands, a look of genuine relief washing over his face.

He had the qualification. The legal framework for his assembly line was set.

He didn’t linger. Ignoring the whispers and the staring eyes, he turned and walked away from Pill Cauldron Peak.

Back in his cave dwelling, Chen Ping sat cross-legged in the quiet room.

He began to calculate his next move.

He needed disciples. That was certain.

But where would he find them?

“Scouting for talent… that’s a headache,” Chen Ping muttered, looking out the window at his misty Spirit Fields.

Finding candidates with the right talent, a decent temperament, and the loyalty to be worth nurturing was like finding a needle in a haystack. The Sect’s existing disciples were already picked over, and the talented ones wouldn’t easily join a new, controversial Elder.

However, if he could find the right raw materials, the benefits would be immense.

He didn’t lack resources. He lacked hands.

As long as he found people with even a spark of talent, he was confident he could force-feed them resources and experience, turning them into Tier 2 Alchemists in record time.

Once that happened, his income would skyrocket, and his time would be his own.

His eyes narrowed as a pragmatic, if slightly ruthless, idea formed.

“Maybe I should just go down to the mortal world… buy a few children, and raise them from scratch?”