Rise of the Wang Clan: Starting with a Portable Farm

Chapter 223: Blood Hedgehogs and Short-Eared Rabbits

They wasted no time.

The duo quickly located a cave inhabited by Demon Beasts. Above the entrance, a large luminescent crystal cast a pale light over patches of shrubs that stood waist-high. A careful inspection revealed gnaw marks on the branches—the telltale sign of feeding.

Wang Hao extended his Divine Sense into the cave. It was a den of Blood Hedgehogs: a breeding pair of First Rank High Grade beasts, each nearly ten feet long, guarding seven juveniles at the First Rank Low Grade.

Blood Hedgehogs had a limit; they rarely grew past the Second Rank. Their offensive capabilities were lackluster, but their defense was formidable. Their backs were covered in spines so sharp and dense that when they curled into a ball, even a predator a full realm higher would find no place to bite.

These spines could be refined into Magical Artifacts, though their small size often limited their quality to the lower tiers. Their blood was excellent for crafting spiritual ink for talismans, and their milk, though low in energy, was a nutritious staple for low-level cultivators.

But their greatest advantage was their rapid reproduction rate.

Wang Guang’an scanned the perimeter. Finding no immediate threats, he gave Wang Hao a subtle nod.

Wang Hao understood. He released Little Butterfly from the Spirit Beast Bag. The butterfly fluttered its wings, generating a thick, soporific mist that drifted silently into the cave.

There was no resistance. The entire family of hedgehogs collapsed into a deep slumber.

Wang Hao collected them one by one into his Spirit Beast Bag. With this starter stock, the family could produce their own talisman ink and provide nutritional supplements for the younger generation. Once the breeding scale expanded, the surplus meat and materials could be sold in the family’s shops and restaurants.

Inside the den, the spirit herbs had long since been devoured by the beasts. However, as Wang Hao examined the interior, he frowned at the stone walls.

“Ancestor, look at these markings. Don’t they look… artificial?”

Wang Guang’an stepped forward to inspect the rock face. Although countless years had passed and the surface layer had weathered, faint, rhythmic chisel marks were still visible beneath the grime.

He pointed to the glowing crystal embedded in the ceiling. “I was wondering why such high-quality photoluminescent crystals were present here. Now it makes sense. This place was originally a mine. It was hollowed out, exhausted, and then abandoned to become this cavern.”

“We are on the edge of the Broken Origin Mountain Range,” Wang Hao analyzed. “For the last thousand years, the Qingyuan Sect has been the only Golden Core power in the vicinity. These markings are ancient—far older than a millennium. Could a large sect have existed here in the distant past?”

To excavate a subterranean space of this magnitude required manpower and organization far beyond a minor clan. It spoke of a Golden Core-level power at the very least.

“Who knows?” Wang Guang’an mused. “Even a giant like the Danding Sect was annihilated, and how many people remember them now? The rise and fall of powers is the way of the world. Perhaps, as you say, a great sect once stood here.”

They didn’t dwell on the history lesson. The Wang family itself had just risen to become a Golden Core power; they were living proof of the cycle.

They pressed on, clearing out the local fauna as they went. Since they intended to occupy this land, exterminating the wild beasts was necessary. Most held little value for breeding, so the duo showed no mercy.

Later, they discovered a colony of Short-Eared Rabbits. These beasts capped out at First Rank Middle Grade, but their meat was delicious, their fur made excellent low-grade robes and talisman paper, and they bred like… well, rabbits. The economic potential was high. They were marked for capture.

As they ventured deeper, the environment began to shift.

At first, the vegetation became lush, with plants growing taller than a man. Then, abruptly, the greenery vanished. The ground became barren rock. Not even a weed survived.

The Demon Beasts disappeared too. For the first few miles, they had encountered a First Rank beast every few minutes. Now, after traveling twenty miles, they hadn’t sensed a single living breath.

“He Qing said the Spirit Fire lies ahead,” Wang Hao whispered. “The vegetation is behaving strangely. It confirms my suspicion—it is likely the Life Spirit Fire.”

“The absence of low-level beasts suggests a predator,” Wang Guang’an warned, his voice low. “Hao’er, stay behind me. Be careful.”

A short distance later, massive roots began to break through the stone floor. These roots were gnarled and interwoven, branching out like a dragon’s veins, firmly anchoring themselves into the floor and walls. Some even pierced the ceiling overhead.

To support a root system this extensive, the plant would have to be a towering giant. But how could a giant tree exist underground?

A pulse of pure Spiritual Qi washed over them.

They exchanged a look and quickened their pace, following the roots to their source.

Three hundred meters ahead, the answer revealed itself.

The “roots” belonged to a single, colossal vine.

The main stalk was nearly ten meters thick, twisting and turning like a serpent as it drilled straight into the cavern ceiling. Judging by the airflow whistling through the cracks around the stalk, the vine had likely pierced all the way to the surface, acting as a massive ventilation shaft for the underground ecosystem. Without it, the life down here would have suffocated long ago.

At the base of this titan, resting upon a chunk of dark green ore, a flame burned.

It was not the yellow or red of ordinary fire. It was a brilliant, translucent jade green.

As it burned, the flames didn’t flicker chaotically; they bloomed layer by layer, resembling a lotus flower slowly opening its petals. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Wang Hao stared at the swaying green flame, a covetous glint flashing in his eyes.

The Spiritual Qi radiating from it was purer and richer than any Second Rank pill he had ever taken. If he could absorb that energy for cultivation, the benefits would be unimaginable.

Waves of fresh, vibrant energy rolled off the fire.

The vine’s roots were slowly absorbing this energy, fueling its monstrous growth.

It wasn’t just the vine. Surrounding the fire were over a dozen Spirit Herbs, all thriving under the nourishment of that green light. The oldest among them approached a thousand years in age. Their combined fragrance was so potent that Wang Hao could smell it clearly from hundreds of meters away.

It was a perfect symbiotic loop.

The Life Spirit Fire released a unique “Life Qi” that nourished the surrounding plants. In return, the massive vine used its extensive root system to strip Wood-attribute vitality from the surrounding earth, funneling it back to the fire to be refined and consumed.

The vine wasn’t just growing there; it was working for the fire.

This closed loop allowed the Life Spirit Fire to burn eternally, growing stronger with each passing century.

If they hadn’t discovered it now, given enough time and a stroke of Fated Chance, this flame might have developed sentience.

If that had happened, Wang Hao wouldn’t be standing here eyeing it with greed; he would be fleeing for his life. An intelligent Spirit Fire was a catastrophe for anyone beneath the Nascent Soul stage.

Fortunately, sentient fires were rarer than Nascent Soul cultivators. For now, it was just a treasure waiting to be claimed.