My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

Chapter 182: Preparations Before Departure

The Eight Sects Grand Competition was imminent, and Chen Ping knew that caution was the watchword for this journey.

In an arena where eight sects converged and powerhouses stood like a dense forest, shining too brightly would only invite unnecessary trouble.

He needed to completely immerse himself in the role of an ordinary, newly advanced Foundation Establishment cultivator.

The Top Grade Tier 1 Formless Mask he had relied on previously had lost its utility against stronger opponents. To replace it, he had visited a reputable artifact refiner in the Sect Marketplace and spent an exorbitant sum to acquire a Top Grade Tier 2 Dharma Artifact—the Shadow-Concealing Mask.

It had cost him over eight thousand Spirit Stones!

To be honest, the price was painful. For a mere auxiliary Dharma Artifact to command such a fee was practically robbery.

Fortunately, its utility justified the cost.

The mask was pitch black and cold to the touch. Once applied, it seemed to melt into his skin, vanishing completely as if he were wearing nothing at all.

Its function lived up to its name: it perfectly concealed the wearer’s true cultivation aura, allowing them to project a specific, false realm at will.

Based on the refiner’s explanation and his own rigorous testing, Chen Ping was satisfied with its capabilities. Cultivators in the Foundation Establishment realm would have absolutely no chance of seeing through the disguise unless they possessed specialized illusion-breaking Dharma Artifacts or eye techniques.

Even a Violet Palace True Person would find it difficult to detect any anomaly from a distance using conventional perception. Unless they conducted a close-range inspection or aggressively scanned him face-to-face with their Divine Sense, his secret would remain safe.

Only under specific, targeted scrutiny from a superior cultivator would there be a risk of exposure.

This level of concealment was exactly what Chen Ping desired.

He precisely set his displayed cultivation to the first layer of Foundation Establishment—specifically, a “stabilized” state.

This choice was made after careful deliberation.

Time-wise, it had only been a few years since he broke through. For a fresh cultivator, spending a few years just to stabilize the first layer was a perfectly normal, even textbook, progression.

Behaviorally, it also made sense. In recent years, he had lived as a recluse. He hadn’t participated in the Sect’s secret realm scrambles, nor had he frequently taken on time-consuming missions to earn Contribution Points.

In the eyes of others, he was a rookie Elder who had just succeeded in Foundation Establishment and needed time to consolidate his realm and adapt to his new power.

If he were to display the second layer—or higher—within such a short period, it would severely contradict his “low-profile cultivator” persona and inevitably arouse suspicion.

Finally, there was the perspective of the Sect itself. Chen Ping knew that his actions within the Qingyun Sect—his humble origins, his sudden rise, the process of his breakthrough, and even his revenge against his enemies—likely hadn’t escaped the eyes of the high-level leadership.

As to why no one had moved to covet his “Fated Chance,” he analyzed two primary reasons.

First, universality. Which cultivator capable of reaching Foundation Establishment didn’t have a few secrets or lucky breaks? As long as the secret wasn’t earth-shattering—like possessing a heaven-defying inheritance or a supreme treasure—the Sect usually adopted an attitude of tacit approval. A Foundation Establishment Elder with a Fated Chance and higher Potential brought more benefit than harm to the Sect.

Second, risk and balance. Foundation Establishment cultivators were the backbone of the Sect. Forcibly seizing a subordinate’s Fated Chance carried extremely high risks. If the attempt failed and the target escaped, the Sect would create a mortal enemy—a resentment-filled Foundation Establishment cultivator hiding in the shadows was an incalculable threat.

In comparison, winning them over, maintaining a relationship, and fostering a sense of belonging was the rational choice for long-term stability. Sects that frequently resorted to “Killing to seize treasures” against their own members were often plagued by internal strife and rarely lasted long.

Thus, Chen Ping’s actions remained within the safe zone of “reasonable anomaly.” The Sect naturally extended him a degree of tolerance.

However, other sects would not be so kind.

Chen Ping understood the principle well: “The tree that stands out in the forest will be destroyed by the wind.”

In this cruel world of Cultivation, fighting for momentary glory was far less practical than living long enough to reach the summit. Being an inconspicuous “transparent person,” steadily accumulating strength in the shadows—that was the Dao he believed in.

…

After donning the Shadow-Concealing Mask and confirming his aura was stable at the first layer, Chen Ping transformed into a stream of light and flew toward the Qingyun Sect’s main peak.

In front of the main peak’s great hall, Headmaster Li Lingfeng stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Beside him stood three people: two Chen Ping recognized, and one stranger.

Zhao Yuanqi still wore his habitual smile. Seeing Chen Ping approach, he waved enthusiastically.

“Elder Chen, you’ve arrived just in time!”

Chen Ping landed and cupped his hands in return. “Senior Brother Zhao, Headmaster.”

His attitude was humble and respectful, neither servile nor arrogant.

Among the other two, the woman was tall and slender, with a face of clear, cold beauty. It was Bai Yue, whom he had encountered in the secret realm years ago.

However, her expression was cool and detached. Her gaze swept over Chen Ping without a flicker of recognition.

Chen Ping wasn’t surprised. Back then, he had worn the Formless Mask, altering both his aura and physique. Now appearing with his true face and aura, she naturally couldn’t connect him to that encounter.

The other man, however, was exceptionally eye-catching.

He was incredibly burly, towering over Chen Ping by more than a head. With broad shoulders, a thick back, and muscles that knotted like old roots, he exuded a steady, mountain-like presence just by standing there.

He wore simple black martial attire and carried a massive, ruler-like sword slung diagonally across his back. The weapon resembled a door plank—bladeless, yet emitting a suffocating sense of heaviness.

Zhao Yuanqi smiled and made the introductions.

“Come, come, Junior Brother Chen. This is Junior Sister Bai Yue. She established her foundation three years ago and is already at the second layer. She is truly a standout talent among the younger generation of our Qingyun Sect! And this is Zhao Long, my cousin, who just established his foundation last year. Zhao Long, Junior Sister Bai, this is the Chen Ping I mentioned to you. He also successfully established his foundation a few years ago.”

The three nodded to one another, formally acknowledging their new teammates.

Bai Yue gave a slight, polite nod. Zhao Long, however, cupped his huge fists, his voice booming like a great bell.

“Senior Brother Chen!”

Chen Ping returned the gesture. “Senior Sister Bai, Junior Brother Zhao.”

The atmosphere was slightly stiff, as was typical for cultivators meeting for the first time.

Li Lingfeng’s gaze swept over the three, lingering a moment longer on Bai Yue. A twenty-eight-year-old at the second layer of Foundation Establishment indeed held promise for securing a ranking in the Grand Competition.

His face softened slightly as he offered words of encouragement.

“This Eight Sects Grand Competition determines the Sect’s share of tribute for the next sixty years, and it concerns the face of the Qingyun Sect. The three of you represent our younger generation of Foundation Establishment cultivators. I hope you will go all out and showcase the spirit of our Sect! Victory is important, but remember this: preserving yourselves and returning safely is the foundation of all things.”

His tone was plain, but the concern beneath it was genuine.

After speaking, Li Lingfeng waved his sleeve. A medium-sized Spirit Ship, glowing with a cyan hue, materialized out of thin air and hovered over the plaza.

He stepped onto the bow first, followed closely by Zhao Yuanqi.

Chen Ping, Bai Yue, and Zhao Long boarded in turn.

The Spirit Ship hummed, its hull lighting up with a soft cyan halo. Then, it transformed into a streak of light, tearing through the clouds and speeding toward the distant horizon.

Destination: The Tianling Sect.