Rise of the Wang Clan: Starting with a Portable Farm

Chapter 255: Wang Wenyu and Wang Yanzong

Wang Wencai rushed into the cave, his face a mask of grievance. The moment he spotted Wang Hao, he began to complain. “Fifth Brother! I barely exchanged two moves with that Fire-Spitting Bull before your spirit beast charged in and bit its throat out! It ate the entire carcass! There’s nothing left but a pile of cracked bones!”

Wang Hao blinked, a wave of guilt washing over him. He had been so focused on rewarding Yaya that he had completely forgotten to feed Xiao Bai. Even sealed inside the storage bag, spirit beasts could vaguely sense the outside world. The Ice-Eyed White Tiger had likely smelled the blood from the Phoenix Tail Chicken fight and grown ravenous. When Wang Hao released it to “support” Wencai, the tiger simply assumed the bull was its delayed lunch.

Wang Hao glanced toward the cave entrance. Xiao Bai was casually licking a massive paw, grooming its pristine white fur. It looked immensely satisfied.

Wang Hao shook his head with a bitter smile. “My apologies, Wencai. That was my oversight. You’ll have to gain your combat experience next time. Here, try this spiritual wine as an apology.”

He tossed one of the bamboo tubes over. Wang Wencai caught it, his grievance instantly evaporating into a grin. “How could I blame you, Fifth Brother? I didn’t lift a finger and still earned a mountain of contribution points for the assist. Next time you have a mission like this, you have to bring me along!”

I’ll be sailing overseas soon, Wang Hao thought to himself. You can forget about getting another free ride like this.

Wang Wencai popped the wooden stopper and took a long swig. His eyes widened, and a look of pure intoxication washed over his face. “This is incredible! It’s smoother than anything we brew back home!”

“A Secluded Ape brewed it,” Wang Hao explained. “Who knows how long it’s been aging in this cave? Our family has only been producing second-rank wine for a few years. We simply haven’t had the time to age our stock properly. Naturally, it can’t compare to a vintage like this.”

“Fifth Brother…” Wang Wencai’s eyes drifted past Wang Hao, locking hungrily onto the massive stack of bamboo tubes against the cave wall. “I want to discuss a business proposition regarding this wine…”

Wang Wencai had no vices save one: he loved to drink. He never spent his clan contribution points on spirit pills. Even when the family issued him cultivation pills as part of his stipend, he immediately traded them for high-grade spiritual wine. Since the wine also provided a steady, albeit slower, boost to cultivation, the family elders had never bothered to discipline him for it.

Wang Hao chuckled. “You want the wine without putting in the work? Nice try. I’ve already sent a message to the main estate; Sixth Granduncle is bringing the grand formation array tomorrow. Your job today is to sweep the perimeter and exterminate any remaining first-rank demon beasts. Get that done, and I’ll give you ten tubes.”

“Deal!” Wang Wencai agreed instantly. “Just watch me, Fifth Brother! I’ll wipe them out!” He shoved his open bamboo tube into his robes and practically sprinted out of the cave.

With the cave quiet again, Wang Hao returned to a nagging thought. The sheer volume of wine hoarded here couldn’t have been produced from the few Purple Crystal Grapevines he had found on the southern peak. That was the Phoenix Tail Chicken’s territory; even if the ape was a master thief, it couldn’t have stolen enough grapes to brew hundreds of gallons of wine.

There had to be another orchard nearby, perhaps cultivating different spirit fruits or brewing materials.

Furthermore, the Wang family needed to reverse-engineer the ape’s recipe. Brewing spiritual wine wasn’t as simple as mashing fruit into a sealed jar; doing that usually just resulted in alcoholic rot. Even if the ape had stumbled upon a naturally occurring strain of spiritual yeast, achieving this level of flavor required precise ratios and fermentation control.

The Secluded Ape had possessed a mature, refined recipe.

Unfortunately, Wang Hao was no expert in brewing. He had skimmed the brewing manuals left behind by the late Zou Renhe, but deducing a complex recipe from taste alone was beyond his skill set. This required a dedicated professional.

Fortunately, after over a decade of aggressive talent cultivation, the Wang family now boasted several skilled brewmasters.

Unlike alchemy, which strictly required a cultivator’s internal fire and a high cultivation base to refine high-tier pills, brewing was a matter of chemistry and patience. As long as a brewer had the correct yeast strain and precise measurements, even a Qi Condensation cultivator could successfully ferment second-rank spiritual wine.

Wang Hao had specifically requested in his message that Wang Longyou bring a master brewer and several spirit farmers to map out the ridge’s agricultural development.

Leaving the cave, Wang Hao spent the rest of the afternoon surveying the surrounding peaks. He found several more wild orchards scattered across the mountains lacking spirit veins, including two more second-rank Purple Crystal Grapevines and a grove of first-rank spirit peach trees.

These slopes were naturally suited for arboriculture. Wang Hao decided not to uproot them; instead, the clan would terraform these lesser peaks into dedicated, terraced orchards.

Surveying the ridge from its highest point, Wang Hao began calculating the massive labor force required to tame the land.

The topography was uneven, sloping downward from the middle-grade vein in the north to the low-grade vein in the south. The northern end of the central basin was hilly and rolling. Rather than spending fortunes to flatten it into spirit fields, it would be much more efficient to seamlessly blend it into the mountain orchards, creating a massive, dedicated Purple Crystal Grape estate.

The flatter southern basin could easily support a hundred acres of standard spirit fields. The prime real estate closest to the spirit vein could be concentrated into ten acres of high-yield, second-rank soil.

The exact layout would be left to the spirit farmers. They were the professionals.

Maintaining a single acre of second-rank soil consumed five times the spiritual qi of a first-rank field. Small, struggling families rarely dared to cultivate second-rank herbs. The growth cycles were measured in decades, the risk of crop failure was devastating, and the ambient energy drain was immense. They usually opted for the safety of mass-producing first-rank crops.

But the Wang family was a Golden Core faction now. They needed to adopt the Qingyuan Sect’s agricultural model: outsource the low-yield, first-rank farming to their vassal families through yearly tribute quotas, and dedicate their own premium soil entirely to high-value, century-old spiritual herbs.

Terraforming a wilderness into a functional farm was a brutal, grueling process.

First, the farmers had to carefully strip and collect the active “spirit soil”—the nutrient-rich topsoil where ambient spiritual qi naturally settled, usually found thickest beneath ancient, rotting vegetation.

Once the topsoil was secured, the brutal physical labor began. The land had to be leveled. Every boulder and deep-rooted stump had to be shattered and hauled away. Subterranean rocks that blocked the natural flow of the earth’s meridians had to be excavated.

Next came the plumbing. A massive network of “spirit-guiding channels” had to be carved into the bedrock—an invisible irrigation system designed to siphon raw spiritual qi directly from the main vein and distribute it evenly across every acre of the future fields.

Only then could the earth be backfilled and the precious spirit soil spread across the surface.

Wang Hao ran the numbers. To fully develop Chicken Cage Ridge, he would need a dedicated workforce of at least 50 mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivators laboring every single day for five years.

With a solid plan forming in his mind, Wang Hao returned to the ape’s cave to meditate.

Outside, Wang Wencai and his two Qi Condensation juniors spent the entire night hunting. With a Foundation Establishment cultivator leading the charge, the remaining first-rank demon beasts were systematically slaughtered.

The following morning, Wang Longyou arrived at the ridge with a specialized team.

Among the arrivals were Wang Wenyu, the clan’s premier brewmaster, and Wang Yanzong, a certified second-rank spirit farmer.

Wang Wenyu was young, barely in his twenties, and possessed terrible spiritual roots. Recognizing his limitations early, he had poured his life into the brewing arts, which demanded patience rather than raw talent. Through sheer, obsessive dedication, his wines had surpassed those of elders who had been brewing for decades. He now held a prestigious, secure position within the Internal Affairs Hall.

Upon hearing rumors of second-rank brewing materials, Wang Wenyu was practically vibrating with excitement. After a hasty bow, he immediately demanded, “Fifth Brother! Where are these Purple Crystal Grapevines?”

Wang Yanzong chuckled, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Patience, little Yu. The plants are my department. You need to investigate the wine! A wild ape brewing a vintage is unprecedented!”

Wang Longyou stroked his beard, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Calm yourselves. This entire ridge belongs to the Wang family now. The trees and the wine aren’t going to grow legs and run away.”

Just then, Wang Wencai emerged from the tree line. Wang Longyou took one sniff of the air and sighed. “I stand corrected. There is a drunkard on the premises. If we wait too long, the wine might actually disappear.”

Wang Wencai flushed scarlet. “Sixth Granduncle, please! I only drank one tube! There are over a hundred left in the cave. I couldn’t possibly finish it all!”