My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

Chapter 161: I Can Save You!

The secret realm was small. Chen Ping estimated it to be no more than a dozen or so miles in radius.

The sky was a dome of pure, unblemished azure. There were no sun, moon, or stars, yet a soft, omnidirectional light bathed the world.

The ground was carpeted in shallow green grass that emitted a faint, rhythmic pulse of Qi. The air was exceptionally fresh; every breath felt like a cleansing wash for his internal organs.

In his hand, the token hummed with a warm, guiding intent, pulling him forward like a magnet.

He walked for several miles. The view ahead remained a flat, open grassland. There was no sign of any giant tree.

However, the moment he stepped across an invisible boundary, the world before his eyes violently twisted!

A colossal tree appeared without warning, a mere hundred zhang in front of him.

It felt as though it had stood there since the dawn of time, merely veiled from mortal perception until now.

Its trunk was titanic; even dozens of men linking hands couldn’t hope to encircle it. Its height pierced straight into the azure firmament, and its crown spread like a magnificent green canopy, shadowing nearly half the secret realm.

The bark was a deep, inky green, etched with gully-like fissures that exuded an ancient, heavy aura of vicissitude.

A crushing, invisible Pressure—born from the difference in lifeforms—permeated every inch of the air.

“Bearer of the Token…”

A grand, archaic voice resonated directly within the depths of Chen Ping’s Sea of Consciousness. Every syllable carried the dust and weight of eons.

“Advance… Bear my will… Step within ten zhang… You may obtain a Fated Chance… The closer you come… the greater the reward…”

The moment the voice fell, Chen Ping felt his body betray him!

An irresistible will hijacked his motor functions. It dragged him forward, his legs moving involuntarily toward the towering titan.

He watched helplessly as he became a puppet on strings…

Step by step, he marched toward the existence radiating that terrifying Pressure.

Fifty zhang.

Forty zhang.

Thirty zhang…

With every step, the pressure on his soul grew exponentially heavier, threatening to grind his consciousness into dust.

When he reached a point roughly twenty zhang from the main trunk, the force dragging him forward abruptly vanished.

Control of his body snapped back, but Chen Ping felt as though he had just surfaced from the crushing depths of the ocean. An invisible weight still wrapped around him, sending waves of stinging pain and vertigo through his soul.

He barely managed to steady his stance. Fine beads of cold sweat slicked his temples.

“Stop, child.”

The aged voice dripped with undisguised disappointment, laced with a weary indifference.

“Your bone structure and soul… your aptitude… is the poorest I have seen in a hundred years. Twenty zhang is your limit. If you force yourself further, your soul will be extinguished like a candle in the wind.”

The poorest?

Chen Ping felt little turmoil at the verdict.

He knew exactly how much he weighed.

His Spirit Root was indeed bottom-tier. His comprehension was passable, but certainly not peerless. The only reason he stood here today was the Black Earth space within the Jade Pendant.

This Ancient Tree was scanning his fundamental potential, stripped of external cheats. Being judged as “trash” was objectively fair.

He stopped as instructed. But instead of retreating in shame or foolishly trying to force his way forward, he did something unexpected.

Right there at the twenty-zhang mark, under the crushing weight of the soul pressure, he sat down cross-legged.

“Senior!”

Chen Ping’s voice transmitted through his Divine Sense, struggling to remain steady.

“This Junior, Chen Ping, has a matter to discuss.”

The Ancient Tree’s consciousness seemed to pause.

For centuries, disciples who entered this place reacted in one of three ways: they retreated in terror, they struggled in futility, or they begged for a scrap of luck.

A disciple who was judged hopeless but calmly sat down to “discuss business”? That was a first.

“Speak,” the aged voice responded, carrying a trace of faint interest.

“Heaven and Earth Spirit Roots are profound and peerless. This Junior is untalented, yet I possess a unique spiritual land. I dare say that no matter the species, as long as a trace of vitality remains, planting it within ensures its survival and flourishing.”

Chen Ping’s Divine Sense conveyed absolute sincerity.

“I wonder if Senior… has any intention of leaving behind a descendant? This Junior is willing to devote all efforts to cultivating a seed, preserving Senior’s bloodline.”

A brief silence followed.

“Hah…”

The Ancient Tree transmitted a low, dry laugh, sounding like dead branches rubbing together in a gale.

“Foolish child. A Heaven and Earth Spirit Root is born of the world’s concentrated Providence. Within the same species, only one can exist between heaven and earth. If I perish, that Providence will circulate. Perhaps in ten thousand years, a new sprout will be conceived elsewhere.”

“This is the Heavenly Dao Cycle. Before I completely vanish, it is impossible for a second Qingyun Ancient Tree to be born in this world. Preserving a bloodline? I acknowledge your kind intentions, but fate cannot be forced.”

First attempt: Failed.

Chen Ping wasn’t discouraged. He immediately pivoted to his true objective.

“I see. This Junior’s knowledge was shallow. Then… what if I said I might have a way to alleviate Senior’s injuries?”

BOOM!

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

An invisible Pressure, magnified several times over, slammed down like a falling mountain!

This was no longer a test or guidance. It was the fury of a god offended by an insect.

Chen Ping’s seated body swayed violently. His face drained of all color, turning deathly pale. A sweet, metallic taste surged in his throat as blood filled his mouth. His soul felt like it had been struck by a war hammer, his vision blacking out in spasms.

The twenty-zhang line had instantly transformed into the edge of purgatory.

“INSOLENT BRAT! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK RECKLESSLY!”

The aged voice exploded in Chen Ping’s Sea of Consciousness, rolling like thunder.

“My injury is corroded by Heavenly Tribulation Dao Marks! It has rotted into my very Origin! Generations of your Qingyun Sect’s Golden Cores—even your Nascent Soul Ancestors—exhausted their lives and searched the world for treasures, yet all were helpless! You? A mere Foundation Establishment ant? You dare utter such wild arrogance?!”

“You truly do not know the immensity of heaven and earth!”

The terrifying Pressure ground down on him like a physical millstone, threatening to pulverize his will into powder.

Chen Ping desperately guarded his mind, curling around the core of his soul to keep it from shattering.

He swallowed the blood in his throat. Enduring the soul-rending pain, he forced his Divine Sense to transmit a reply. Every word felt like rolling his consciousness over a bed of razors.

“Senior… quell your anger! This Junior… is absolutely… not joking!”

“I dare ask Senior… since the founding of the Qingyun Sect… has there ever been… a single person… who truly alleviated Senior’s injuries?”

The crushing Pressure paused for a fraction of a second.

Chen Ping seized the opening. He didn’t retreat; he doubled down.

“None! Not… a single one! Regardless… of whether they were Golden Cores… or Nascent Souls! They… could not do it!”

“Then… Senior… why not give… this Junior… who dares to say he can treat the injury… a chance to try?”

His transmission was choppy, broken by pain, yet the logic was razor-sharp.

“Senior… how much longer… can your injuries wait? Will you wait for the next Nascent Soul? Or the next ten thousand years of helplessness?”

“Besides this ant who ‘does not know the immensity of heaven and earth’… no one else in the Qingyun Sect… dares to say they can save you!”

“Let me try… Senior… what do you have… to lose?!”

The space fell deathly silent, as if time itself had frozen.