Jiang Chen knelt on one knee, his eyes narrowing as he examined the soil.

The patch of earth where he had buried the strange seed was noticeably different from the surrounding area. It was moist, almost saturated, giving off a sheen as if it had been soaked in oil.

Curious, he extended a finger and poked the black soil.

To his surprise, his finger didn’t sink in. Instead, he felt a rubbery resistance, as if he were pressing against a layer of firm jelly rather than dirt. The harder he pushed, the stronger the elastic feedback became.

He eased up on the pressure, and his finger suddenly slipped through the surface, sinking deep into the muck.

His fingertip brushed against something hard—the seed.

He wiggled his finger, feeling around. The seed hadn’t sprouted or changed shape; it felt exactly the same as it had the night before. The anomaly was entirely in the soil itself.

Jiang Chen withdrew his hand and inspected his finger.

There was very little moisture, but the soil clinging to his skin was sticky and viscous. Bringing it closer to his nose, he caught a whiff of a pungent, earthy scent—far stronger and more concentrated than normal soil.

“Strange,” he muttered.

He quickly patted the soil back down, and the smell faded.

After a moment of contemplation, he made a decision. He couldn’t leave this unknown variable in the middle of his Spirit Farm. If it reacted unpredictably, it could endanger his precious Moonlight Grass and Golden Crow Vines.

He slapped the Jade Green Gourd at his waist, summoning a shovel. With careful, precise movements, he dug up the entire clump of jelly-like soil, seed included.

He didn’t hesitate. He hoisted the clump and sprinted toward the stone mountain.

The patch of black soil at the foot of the mountain was isolated and secure. Since he hadn’t transplanted the Variant Mother Rice yet, it was currently empty save for the double-mutated mother stalk. Perhaps placing these two anomalies together would yield an unexpected result.

He reached the base of the mountain and prepared to move the stone blocking the entrance to his secret patch.

Suddenly, his spiritual sense pinged.

Someone is up there.

Jiang Chen froze. He looked up toward the summit. His spiritual sense, amplified by the [Green Lotus Domain], was sharp, but the angle prevented him from seeing who it was.

Caution first. He stowed the strange soil and seed back into his gourd and began to climb. He needed to know who was lurking near his secrets.

Moments later, he crested the summit.

On a large, flat rock facing the horizon sat an old man. He wore the white robes of a formal disciple, his back straight as he gazed out over the rolling fields of the sect.

Jiang Chen approached slowly. “May I ask who you are?”

The old man didn’t turn around immediately. “It seems you are the owner of those two Spirit Farm plots down there.”

He finally turned, revealing a face etched with deep lines but eyes that were bright and alert. He offered a faint smile. “This old man is Zhu Fuxian, also a formal disciple.”

Jiang Chen relaxed slightly and cupped his hands in a respectful salute. “So it is Senior Brother Zhu. I am Jiang Chen. I only joined the core area a few years ago. May I ask where your farm is located?”

Zhu Fuxian raised a hand and pointed into the distance. “Over there.”

Jiang Chen followed his finger. In the far distance, he could see a vast expanse of Spirit Farms, lush with high-grade crops. He had noticed them before when surveying the area—fields teeming with long-cycle spirit plants that required immense skill and patience to cultivate.

So, this was the master of those fields.

“I see,” Jiang Chen said, impressed. “Your reputation precedes you, Senior Brother.”

Zhu Fuxian chuckled, standing up to get a better look at the young farmer. “Speaking of reputation… that Spirit Farm of yours has quite a connection to me.”

Jiang Chen blinked. “Oh?”

“Ten years ago,” Zhu Fuxian said, his smile turning wistful, “an old friend of mine died right there.”

Jiang Chen’s face twitched. “So I’m living in a haunted house.”

Zhu Fuxian waved a dismissive hand. “We are cultivators. Life and death are part of the cycle; there is no need to be superstitious.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jiang Chen muttered. “You don’t sleep there.”

Zhu Fuxian sighed, his gaze drifting back to the horizon. “My friend was ambitious. He tried to forcibly break through to the Human-Grade Golden Core realm. He failed, and his Dao dissipated along with his life.”

Jiang Chen fell silent, observing the old man.

Zhu Fuxian exuded a faint scent of decay—the smell of a body nearing its end. Yet, his vitality felt robust, his breath long and steady. It was a contradiction. He looked like a man with one foot in the grave, but his spirit was as vibrant as a youth’s.

Zhu Fuxian seemed to shake off the melancholy. He produced a Communication Talisman and handed it to Jiang Chen. “Junior Brother Jiang, since you have inherited my friend’s land, that is fate. Let us stay in touch. If you have any questions regarding spirit plants, feel free to ask.”

Jiang Chen’s eyes lit up. A veteran farmer’s knowledge was priceless. He accepted the talisman with both hands. “Thank you, Senior Brother. In fact, I do have a question right now.”

“Ask away.”

Jiang Chen described the strange seed he had bought—the thumb-sized, melon-seed shape, the pitted shell, and the trace of Earth Spirit Qi.

Zhu Fuxian stroked his beard, thoughtful. “An Earth Dragon… those beasts are gluttonous. They consume spirit plants indiscriminately, favoring the rarest ones. If it survived the stomach acid… if I am not mistaken, what you have is an [Earth Yuan Fruit].”

“Earth Yuan Fruit?”

Zhu Fuxian nodded. “In places rich with Earth Qi, two plants are common: Earth Guiding Grass and the Earth Yuan Fruit. They are a staple of the Earth Dragon’s diet.”

Jiang Chen was stunned. It wasn’t just a seed; it was a pit.

The Earth Dragon must have swallowed the fruit whole. Its stomach acid digested the flesh but failed to break down the incredibly durable pit before the beast was killed.

“Junior Brother Jiang, that is all for today. I must return to tend my own crops.”

Before Jiang Chen could ask more, Zhu Fuxian’s body swayed. Like a leaf caught in a breeze, he drifted into the air and floated away, his movement effortless and profound.

Jiang Chen bowed deeply to the retreating figure. “Farewell, Senior Brother Zhu!”

Once the old man was a speck in the distance, Jiang Chen straightened, his eyes narrowing.

He didn’t know why Zhu Fuxian had been lingering here, but the information was invaluable.

Earth Yuan Fruit.

He recalled the entries from the Spirit Farm Hundred Tales Record and the Five Elements Spirit Book. If this was truly an Earth Yuan Fruit, then he had struck gold.