My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

Chapter 237: One Hundred and Fifty Times

After some deliberation, Chen Ping selected the Cold Star Grass for his control sample, favored for its short natural growth cycle.

Just as before, he partitioned three small experimental plots within the Jade Pendant’s dimension.

He planted the seeds under three distinct conditions: one plot with no irrigation, one watered with Rank 2 Spirit Spring water, and the last with Rank 3 Spirit Spring water. Then, he began the meticulous process of observation and recording.

Waiting for the results required patience. Forcing down his agitation and curiosity, Chen Ping exited the space to attend to his daily affairs. He guided his parents in their cultivation and conducted alchemy lessons for his three disciples.

The progress of the little ones was rapid; they were already touching the threshold of becoming Rank 2 Alchemists.

One month later, the results were in.

As Chen Ping reviewed the data, his breath hitched, and a phantom tingle raced across his scalp.

Words failed to capture the storm of excitement raging within him. Immense, crushing joy assaulted his mind.

The data was intuitive and undeniable.

Even without any Spirit Spring irrigation, the baseline growth acceleration of the Black Earth had reached a staggering ninety-six times.

In other words, a single month in the Black Earth was equivalent to eight years of growth in the outside world.

When irrigated with Rank 2 Spirit Spring water, the effect jumped to approximately one hundred and twenty times.

And when nourished with Rank 3 Spirit Spring water? The acceleration soared to a terrifying one hundred and fifty times.

“One hundred… and fifty times,” Chen Ping murmured, his voice trembling. He rechecked the records again and again, afraid to believe his own eyes.

What did this mean?

It meant that a spirit herb growing in the Black Earth for one year would age the equivalent of one hundred and fifty years. A legendary herb requiring a millennium to mature could now be harvested in less than seven years.

It was a heaven-defying advantage.

Chen Ping could already envision an endless supply of Bodhi Seeds available for himself and his family.

However, as the initial euphoria faded, a persistent problem reared its head.

He didn’t have enough Rank 3 Spirit Spring water.

According to his agreement with the Lin family, they could only provide six pounds per month. With the number and variety of spirit herbs in his garden increasing daily, that amount was a drop in the bucket. He didn’t even know which herbs to prioritize for rationing.

The vat storing his current supply was nearly dry. At his current rate of consumption, it would last a few days at most.

Without sufficient Rank 3 water, the 150x acceleration was impossible to maintain. He would be forced to settle for 130x or even the baseline speed—a colossal waste of the Black Earth’s potential.

“I must find a stable, high-volume source of Rank 3 Spirit Spring water,” Chen Ping muttered, frowning.

His thoughts turned to the Sect’s Spirit Plant Hall.

He held the title of Spirit Plant Hall Master, after all. Even if it was largely a nominal position he had neglected, surely he could leverage it to access the hall’s resource quota?

He knew the Spirit Plant Hall was impoverished, but a basic allocation of Rank 3 water should exist.

Decisive as always, Chen Ping left his cave dwelling. He summoned his flying artifact and streaked toward the side of Qingyun Peak, arriving at the Spirit Plant Hall moments later.

Within the Qingyun Sect, the Spirit Plant Hall was a marginalized department. Spirit Plant Farmers were rare, and without the means to cultivate high-grade herbs, the hall suffered from low status and a lack of disciples. It always felt somewhat deserted.

Chen Ping stepped into the main hall, noting the peeling paint and the air of stagnation.

Inside, a middle-aged disciple wearing deacon robes was slumped over a desk. His cultivation was at Qi Condensation Grand Perfection. He was frowning deeply, fingers flying over an abacus as he stared at a ledger, muttering numbers under his breath in distress.

Hearing footsteps, the disciple paused. He looked up, his eyes blank for a moment, clearly not recognizing the visitor. Assuming it was an Elder coming to requisition materials, he scrambled to his feet, plastering a professional, if slightly strained, smile on his face.

Does he not know who I am? Is my portrait hanging in the side hall instead of the main one?

“Dis… Disciple Liu Xiaoyun pays respects to the Hall Master!”

Realization dawned, and Liu Xiaoyun saluted nervously. In his fluster, he nearly knocked over the inkstone on his desk.

“I did not know the Hall Master was gracing us with his presence! I failed to welcome you properly—please, forgive this disciple’s offense!”

Liu Xiaoyun’s heart hammered in his chest. The Hall Master hadn’t visited in years. A sudden appearance usually meant one of two things: an audit, or a reprimand.

Chen Ping waved his hand, dismissing the formalities. He felt a pang of awkwardness himself; he really had been an absentee landlord.

He glanced around the shabby hall and cut straight to the chase.

“Deacon Liu, no need for ceremony. I came to ask: what is the Spirit Plant Hall’s monthly quota for Rank 3 Spirit Spring water from the Sect?”

Liu Xiaoyun’s face immediately fell. He looked pained, stammering for a long moment before his face flushed red.

“Replying… replying to Hall Master. There… there is a quota. Based on the hall’s rank, we have a purchasing allowance of ten pounds per month. It’s just… just…”

“Just what? Speak freely.”

Chen Ping had already guessed the issue.

“It’s just that Rank 3 Spirit Spring water must be purchased with Contribution Points. One pound costs fifty points. Our hall… our performance has always been poor. The yield from the spirit gardens we manage is limited. We barely produce enough to meet the Sect’s mandatory quotas. After paying the disciples their meager stipends, there… there is basically no surplus.”

Liu Xiaoyun lowered his head, his voice shrinking to a whisper. “The hall’s account chronically holds less than one hundred points. So… so we haven’t exercised our purchasing rights in a very long time.”

He felt an overwhelming sense of shame. The Hall Master’s first visit in years, and he had to expose just how destitute their department was. As a deacon, he felt like a failure.

Chen Ping nodded, enlightened.

So it’s not a lack of supply, it’s a lack of funds.

He ran a quick calculation. Ten pounds a month meant five hundred Contribution Points. For a struggling department, that was indeed a heavy burden.

“No matter,” Chen Ping said, his voice calm.

“Starting this month, purchase the full quota of ten pounds. The required Contribution Points will be deducted from my personal account.”

He currently held over eight thousand Contribution Points. Spending five hundred a month was a drop in the ocean; he could sustain it for years.

Liu Xiaoyun snapped his head up, staring at Chen Ping in disbelief.

“Hall… Hall Master? Are you serious? Ten pounds a month? All of it? That is a massive expense!”

“Naturally, I am serious,” Chen Ping affirmed.

He continued with his instructions. “Additionally, once you collect the water each month, I need you to personally deliver it to my cave dwelling on Green Mountain. For every delivery, I will pay you ten Spirit Stones as a labor fee. Is that acceptable?”

If you want people to work, you have to pay them.

Ten Spirit Stones!

For a Qi Condensation disciple, that was a fortune. It was equivalent to a month’s salary for a high-ranking disciple, earned in a single trip.

Liu Xiaoyun’s eyes blazed with light. The embarrassment and shame vanished instantly, replaced by sheer, unadulterated motivation. He nodded furiously like a chicken pecking rice.

“Willing! This disciple is willing! Thank you for your trust, Hall Master! Rest assured, I will deliver it safely and on time! I will never delay the Hall Master’s cultivation!”

This was free money! And a chance to curry favor with the elusive Hall Master! Only a fool would refuse.

Chen Ping nodded, satisfied.

With this arrangement, he secured ten pounds from the hall. Combined with the five or six pounds from the Lin family, he would have around fifteen pounds of Rank 3 Spirit Spring water monthly.

If he used it sparingly, it would be enough to maintain the high-speed growth of the precious herbs in the Jade Pendant. As for the common herbs, Rank 2 water would suffice.

The bottleneck was finally cleared.

Relaxed, Chen Ping offered Liu Xiaoyun a few words of encouragement, left a communication talisman, and departed from the Spirit Plant Hall.