The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

Chapter 307: A Kindness Etched in My Heart

No matter how one looked at it, his current injuries were far more severe than the last time.

His flesh was a canvas of deep, crisscrossing gashes, as if his entire body had been split open. He looked nothing like the champion of the formal disciple grand competition. An outsider stumbling upon this scene would have assumed he’d been brutally defeated.

The ugly scar on Long Ao’s face twitched, but his lips pulled back into a grim smile. “Junior Brother Jiang… In the end, I didn’t take that step.”

Jiang Chen paused, then shook his head. “If you had transformed your Water Spirit Root into an Ice Spirit Root, you might have been immune to Mo Sha’s attack, but it would have crippled your future cultivation.”

The man before him possessed dual Water and Wood Spirit Roots. Even though his Water Spirit Root was now corrupted, tainted with a vicious poison, his Wood Spirit Root remained functional. He could still cultivate. However, without the nourishing effect of Water feeding Wood, his progress would be drastically stunted.

Had he chosen to become an Ice Spirit Root cultivator, the new element would have actively suppressed his Wood Spirit Root. He might have won the competition, but his path would have been riddled with insurmountable obstacles later on.

To put it bluntly, his current situation, dire as it was, still held a sliver of hope. The alternative would have been a dead end, forcing him to abandon half his foundation forever.

Long Ao’s smile widened with a savage pride. “Regardless, I taught that bastard Mo Sha a lesson he won’t forget.”

“I heard a Nascent Soul True Lord intervened to protect him,” Jiang Chen said, his curiosity piqued.

The proud expression on Long Ao’s face froze for a moment before he gave a stiff nod. “Yes.”

Jiang Chen’s brow furrowed. “A monster like Mo Sha has a protector?”

At his words, a haze seemed to fall over Long Ao’s eyes. His voice dropped to a low murmur. “Junior Brother, you know that once a disciple breaks through to the Golden Core realm or is chosen as a core disciple, they ascend the mountain, don’t you?”

Jiang Chen nodded slightly. “I’ve been told.”

Long Ao drew a ragged breath. “Mo Sha… his nature is vile, less like a man and more like a beast in human skin. But it’s precisely that quality that certain Immortal Elders find… appealing. They value him.” He paused. “Among them is the True Lord who stepped in.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Jiang Chen’s face. “Senior Brother, are you saying the True Lord who intervened came down from one of the Seven Great Peaks?”

Jiang Chen’s eyes narrowed, his pupils constricting.

It was just like Beast Mountain, which accepted any and all disciples. This Xuanming Peak, it seemed, was even more indiscriminate. Eccentrics, perverts, the mentally unhinged—the Immortal Elders of Xuanming Peak cared for none of it. They valued one thing and one thing only: talent that eclipsed all peers.

Long Ao’s mind was a clear mirror. “You think Qin Hao didn’t want to act? He just didn’t want to offend someone so powerful.”

Long Ao held up a hand, cutting him off. “Junior Brother, you’ve been in the sect for years. Surely you understand the reality of being a formal disciple?”

A wistful look crossed Jiang Chen’s face. “How could I not?”

The requirements for Outer Peak disciples were brutally strict; failure meant stagnation. Formal disciples, on the surface, had it easy. In truth, they were the sect’s workhorses, the true beasts of burden.

Only by becoming a core disciple—one of *them*, up on the mountain—did you truly become a member of the Immortal Sect. They feasted on the resources provided by the formal disciples, enjoying cultivation environments that were worlds apart.

People like Chen Tian.

Or Mo Sha.

And before him… half of Long Ao.

Why half? Because only his Wood Spirit Root was left. Honestly, in his current state, he likely wouldn’t receive any attention even if he did ascend the mountain.

“You once said something profound,” Long Ao said, his voice regaining its conviction. “To cultivate is to have a will free of regrets. My body may be broken, but at least I beat Mo Sha to a pulp.”

Jiang Chen offered a small smile. “You’re an optimist, Senior Brother.”

Long Ao grinned, a flash of his old self. “Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“What are the sect’s plans for your treatment?” Jiang Chen asked.

Long Ao shook his head. “Feng Lie just came by with a message. I’m to go up the mountain, and we’ll ‘discuss’ it then.”

Jiang Chen’s mind raced. He suddenly retrieved the seashell containing the Liquid Water Essence and held it out. “Senior Brother, if the treatment they offer is… unsatisfactory, use this.”

“I just returned from a trip,” Jiang Chen said vaguely. “Happened to come across it.”

Long Ao stared at him, a long, deep look that weighed the gesture’s true meaning. “Junior Brother,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “this is a kindness I, your Senior Brother, will etch into my very soul.”

Seeing their conversation had reached its end, Jiang Chen turned to leave. “I’ll let you rest. When you have the time, come find me at the Spirit Farm. We’ll share a drink.”

Long Ao’s hands, clutching the Liquid Water Essence, began to tremble. His breathing grew heavy and ragged. He knew what this was. It wasn’t a cure.

It was leverage.

With this, the Immortal Elders couldn’t lead him by the nose.

With this, he had the courage to face Mo Sha again.

With this, his path of cultivation was no longer a dead end.

***

After bidding farewell to Jin Fugui and the others, Jiang Chen quickly returned to his Spirit Farm. Da Huang, Gege, the turtle, and the fish in the pond were all thriving. To make up for his absence, he prepared a lavish feast.

Steamed Spirit Fish.

Braised Spirit Fish Chunks.

A rich Fish and Lamb Spirit Soup.

Pan-fried Silver Shuttle Fish.

Fish Head and Tofu Spirit Soup.

It was an entire banquet of fish. He couldn’t help it; the greatest spoils from his trip were the countless fish stored in his Hydro Orb.

Suddenly, the cry of his fire crow echoed from outside.

Jiang Chen knew someone had arrived and instantly switched to its shared vision. To the right, a “Tassel Flying Boat” drifted into view. The vessel was about thirty feet long, its hull sleek and streamlined, etched with patterns like flowing water. The main sail, woven from golden rice tassels, hung limp in the still air but was clearly designed to billow majestically in the wind.

Emblazoned upon the sail was a large, yellow character: “Zhao.”

Standing on the deck was a man with a handlebar mustache, his age impossible to guess.

Jiang Chen’s eyebrow arched. *The Zhao Clan?*

A moment later, the boat docked on the earthen ridge bordering his farm. The man’s voice soon rang out from beyond his door.

Jiang Chen stepped out of the stone house, his eyes sweeping over the visitor. “And you are?”

“My name is Rong Fu, of The Zhao Clan!” the man announced, his face a mask of undisguised pride.

Jiang Chen’s expression remained flat. “It seems you’ve forgotten something.”

Rong Fu blinked, confused. Then his eyes fell upon the Spirit Cultivator Envoy token hanging at Jiang Chen’s waist. His face tightened, and with visible reluctance, he performed a stiff, perfunctory bow. “My greetings, Envoy Jiang.”

Only then did Jiang Chen address the matter at hand. “What do you want?”

A smirk played on Rong Fu’s lips. “It’s like this. The spirit plants at our Zhao Clan estate seem to be having some… issues. Young Master Yan would like you to come and take a look.”

Jiang Chen’s mind churned. *Asking me to inspect their plants?*

The Zhao Clan was the preeminent family of Spirit Farmers, with a legacy stretching back a thousand years. They should have a solution for any conceivable problem with their crops. For them to summon him out of the blue… something was amiss.

Unfortunately, a Spirit Cultivator Envoy could not refuse a request related to spirit plants.

Jiang Chen turned his back on the man.

“Wait until I’ve finished my meal,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.