My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

Chapter 224: Taking Stock of Gains

Chen Ping had truly made a killing this time.

Aside from offending an ancient Violet Palace monster, the entire operation had been flawlessly executed. The absolute key to his success? Relentlessly disguising his cultivation at the first layer of Foundation Establishment. It had allowed him to have the final laugh.

He had viscerally experienced the sheer, life-saving power of playing the fool.

If he hadn’t relentlessly concealed his true strength and struck with overwhelming, unexpected force at the absolute perfect moment, he would have been butchered by Han Feiyu or the old ghost. If Han Feiyu had known he was dealing with a peak sixth-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator, he never would have proposed an alliance. Even if Chen Ping had only revealed a fourth-layer cultivation, the wary Han scion would have steered clear.

Therefore, masquerading as a fresh, first-layer novice had been a stroke of absolute genius.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Ping forcibly cleared his mind and began to organize his cave dwelling.

First, he retrieved the new Tier 3 High-grade meditation cushion, swapping out his old Tier 1 Top Grade mat.

The new cushion was woven from rare Heart-Calming Grass and the downy fur of an unidentifiable spirit beast. The moment he sat on it, a profound tranquility washed over his mind, and the flow of true essence through his meridians noticeably smoothed out.

Crafting a high-tier meditation cushion was an incredibly complex art. It wasn’t just a matter of weaving expensive grass together. The core required an intricate matrix of stabilizing inscriptions, all layered and synchronized to function as a unified whole. The vast majority of artifact forgers were utterly incapable of producing even a mediocre cushion.

The primary reason was monopolies. The crafting formulas were fiercely guarded by massive Cultivation families and top-tier Sects. The schematics simply didn’t leak to the public market. Consequently, high-grade meditation cushions were incredibly rare in circulation.

This Tier 3 High-grade cushion wasn’t astronomically expensive in terms of raw materials, but the sheer unlikelihood of finding one for sale made it a treasure. Even elite auction houses rarely featured them.

Next, Chen Ping withdrew the set of Tier 4 Spirit Gathering Formation plates.

The metallic plates were smooth and warm to the touch, densely etched with profound, archaic runes that actively pulled at the ambient Qi in the room. The set included several formation flags forged from an unknown spirit metal, designed to forcibly anchor and channel the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

Chen Ping studied the array for a long moment before shaking his head and returning it to his Storage Ring.

A Tier 4 Spirit Gathering Formation possessed apocalyptic utility, but it required High-grade Spirit Stones to fully activate. Without them, a user would have to mimic Old Ghost Han and violently siphon the foundational Qi from a subterranean spirit vein to power it.

Chen Ping didn’t own a single High-grade Spirit Stone. Forcing the array to run on Middle Grade stones would likely yield an effect weaker than a Tier 3 Top Grade array, while draining his funds at a staggering rate. And tapping directly into a spirit vein? That was the act of a suicidal idiot; it would cripple the mountain.

It was best to reserve the array for a critical, life-or-death bottleneck in the future. By then, if he could secure High-grade Spirit Stones, the array might just push him over the edge.

After double-checking the concealment formations to ensure not a trace of his aura could leak from the cave dwelling, Chen Ping, with a thought, vanished into the Jade Pendant space.

The internal dimension was as pristine and Qi-dense as ever. The spiritual herbs anchored in the Black Earth were thriving. But Chen Ping wasn’t here to admire his garden. He needed absolute focus to inventory his massive haul and chart his next steps.

The first item he withdrew was the Bodhi Seed he had looted from the corpse of Mo Xiuyuan.

The seed was a pale, lustrous gold, its smooth surface faintly shimmering with an internal light. Just holding it sent a wave of icy clarity straight into his Sea of Consciousness. With a single, shallow breath, the ambient aura of the seed caused his internal Circulation Cycle to accelerate and smooth out.

It was truly worthy of being a mythic medicine capable of instantly granting twenty years of cultivation. It was utterly extraordinary.

“It’s a shame I can’t consume it right now. But its true value lies in the future,” Chen Ping murmured, his thumb gently brushing the precious seed.

This item was the absolute cornerstone of his long-term plans. Once planted and matured, it would yield a continuous, inexhaustible supply of Bodhi Seeds. When that day came, he, his parents, Yuan Jingtian, and his core disciples would all reap the benefits. It would violently compress their required cultivation time and forge unshakable foundations.

He selected a prime patch of Black Earth and gingerly buried the golden seed. He followed up with a generous watering of Tier 3 spirit spring water. As the liquid sank into the dark soil, the earth faintly pulsed with spiritual light.

With the planting complete, the satisfaction faded from Chen Ping’s face, replaced by a heavy, knotted frown.

After the joy of the loot came the paralyzing anxiety of the consequences.

Killing Mo Xiuyuan and taking the seed carried an apocalyptic level of risk. The man had been a core, heaven-defying genius of the Tianling Sect. If the Sect valued him as highly as his talent suggested, it was a near certainty that they held his soul tablet in their ancestral hall.

Soul tablets were carved from ultra-rare Soul-Nurturing Wood and housed a sliver of a cultivator’s soul. They were the definitive method used by major Sects to monitor the life statuses of their VIPs. Because Soul-Nurturing Wood was nearly impossible to cultivate in the outside world, the tablets were prohibitively scarce. Small Sects and minor families couldn’t even dream of affording them.

But the Tianling Sect was a third-rate powerhouse overseen by a Golden Core True Person. Sparing a soul tablet for a generational talent like Mo Xiuyuan was highly probable.

Which meant the Tianling Sect already knew he was dead.

When a core disciple of a major Sect dies violently and inexplicably, the Sect doesn’t just shrug and move on. They would mobilize massive resources to hunt down the killer.

I disposed of the corpse flawlessly. I scoured the battlefield. Tracing the kill back to me through conventional means should be impossible… but the Cultivation world is crawling with esoteric tracking Arts and divination techniques. Absolute safety doesn’t exist, Chen Ping thought, his jaw tight.

I can only pray the Tianling Sect’s investigation is agonizingly slow and full of dead ends. I need them to chase ghosts until I break through to the Violet Palace realm.

Once he reached the Violet Palace, his combat power would undergo a terrifying qualitative shift. He would finally possess genuine self-preservation capabilities. Many apocalyptic threats would instantly downgrade to mere annoyances. Even if the Tianling Sect eventually found clues pointing to him, a Violet Palace expert as young as he was would force even a Golden Core Sect to carefully weigh the cost of a blood feud.

And if they stubbornly insisted on a suicide mission? He would just expose his true cultivation, get recruited by a second-rate Sect, and let his new backers grind the Tianling Sect into dust.

But that was a future problem. Chen Ping shook his head, forcibly shoving the paranoia into the back of his mind.

What’s done is done. Panic is a useless emotion. The only viable strategy was to relentlessly increase his combat power. He would take it one step at a time and maintain absolute, paranoid vigilance.

Deep down, he truly didn’t want a life on the run. He just wanted to stay on Qingyun Sect and live a quiet, comfortable life.

“I can only hope Old Ghost Han’s Storage Ring holds high-tier pill formulas for Foundation Establishment, or even the Violet Palace realm. That would make this massive risk entirely worth it,” Chen Ping muttered, his eyes drifting toward the ultimate prize of the expedition.

Before diving into the ring, he glanced back at the freshly buried Bodhi Seed.

The growth cycle of this mythic plant was agonizingly long. In the wild, it took a thousand years for the seed to grow into a mature tree, and another five hundred years to bear its first crop of fruit. Even if planted in a supreme blessed land saturated with pure Qi, the growth rate would only double or triple. It would still require five or six centuries from planting to harvest.

Only a massive, ancient organization like the Tianling Sect possessed the generational patience and resources to cultivate one.

The Black Earth accelerates growth by fifty times. One year outside equals fifty years in here. But even with that terrifying multiplier, it will still take thirty real-world years to harvest the first batch of Bodhi Seeds.

Chen Ping did the math, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“Thirty years… a heavy burden and a long road.”

He exhaled slowly. It was already a miraculous outcome. Besides, the Jade Pendant wasn’t static; it could be upgraded. Who knew? Perhaps in the future, the growth multiplier would increase again.

With the Bodhi Seed secured, Chen Ping finally turned his attention to the rest of the loot.