The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

Chapter 308: Spirit Envoy Jiang, Show Us What You’re Made Of

Outside the door, Rong Fu’s patience was wearing thin, but he dared not let it show.

First, this task had been assigned by Young Master Feng himself. Second, the man inside was the Spirit Farm’s one and only Spirit Cultivator Envoy. He couldn’t afford to offend either of them, so he could only grit his teeth and swallow his frustration.

The truth was, Jiang Chen had finished his meal half an hour ago. But he had then proceeded to wash the dishes, clean the house, and even give his dog a bath. He wasn’t just dawdling; he was sending a message.

After dragging it out for precisely one hour, Jiang Chen finally emerged from his room. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible lift of his chin. “We can go now.”

Rong Fu let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “The flying boat is faster!” he said, gesturing toward the Streamer Flying Boat.

Jiang Chen didn’t waste time on pleasantries and leaped aboard.

Rong Fu followed, taking his position and channeling the Wood Spirit Qi from his Dantian. The vessel hummed to life, rising slowly into the air. Once it reached a height of a hundred meters, it pivoted sharply. With a silent whoosh, it streaked across the sky, covering a kilometer in an instant.

An unspoken standoff filled the air.

Jiang Chen didn’t ask.

Rong Fu didn’t speak.

The scenery below was pleasant enough. Along the way, they passed numerous Spirit Farmers harvesting their crops. As they flew deeper into the northern territories, the patchwork of Spirit Farms grew denser, stretching as far as the eye could see.

By his estimate, there were at least twenty or thirty acres in this single cluster.

Jiang Chen recognized it instantly. From this point on, it was all Zhao Clan territory. As a cultivation family that had been a core power for over a millennium, the Zhao Clan employed more than a hundred Spirit Farmers. Even if each farmer tended to a single acre, their holdings would easily surpass a hundred acres. And that didn’t account for the independent farmers who had sworn fealty to the clan, becoming their tenants.

The true scale of the Zhao Clan’s farms was far greater. To mitigate the risk of disaster, they didn’t consolidate their lands. Instead, they had cultivated multiple regions, staggering their planting and harvesting cycles.

Jiang Chen finally broke the silence. “I heard this area was newly developed.”

Rong Fu nodded. “The previous region had to be abandoned after a… disaster.”

*More likely the Zhao Clan’s greed poisoned the land themselves,* Jiang Chen thought cynically. *Their sheer number of farms probably accelerated the catastrophe.*

Could this new plot already be failing? With the Zhao Clan’s resources, it was hard to imagine them mismanaging their spirit plants.

Soon, a sprawling complex of newly constructed buildings came into view, housing the Spirit Farmers. Some lived alone, others with their families. A portion were members of the Zhao Clan, while the rest were their tenants.

As they approached, Rong Fu gradually lowered the flying boat. The Spirit Farmers on the ground looked up, cupping their hands in a respectful salute. “Greetings, Spirit Envoy Jiang!”

Jiang Chen, betraying no arrogance, returned the gesture.

The simple act left Rong Fu stunned. *Previous Envoys, even the less haughty ones, would never be this courteous,* he thought, his world slightly tilted. *I’ve really seen something new today.*

The boat touched down before a three-story building. Before Rong Fu could even announce their arrival, the doors opened.

Zhao Feng strode out, flanked by Huo Ling and several strangers. He boomed with laughter, a sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hahaha! Spirit Envoy Jiang! An honor to finally have you grace us with your presence!”

Jiang Chen’s gaze slid past him to the others. He raised an eyebrow. “Outsiders?”

They were all dressed in moon-white robes, the chests embroidered with a golden rice-ear motif. From their waists hung jade tokens, each carved with a pale gold character for “Grain.”

Zhao Feng’s smile widened. “Allow me to introduce them. These are core disciples of the Spirit Grain Sect. Their leader is Ji Mingxuan, the Senior Brother of his generation and a dear friend of mine.”

Jiang Chen knew of the Spirit Grain Sect. Though not a massive power, they were an essential partner to countless immortal sects, dynasties, and clans, supplying them with spirit rice and plants of all grades. Nearly every member possessed a Wood Spirit Root.

The title of “Senior Brother” in their sect was not a matter of age or seniority. It was earned in a brutal competition known as the “Seedling Selection.” The winner was, without exception, the most talented and powerful cultivator of their generation. In essence, Ji Mingxuan was the Spirit Grain Sect’s equivalent of a Spirit Cultivator Envoy.

Ji Mingxuan’s eyes drifted over Jiang Chen, his gaze casual until it rested on the envoy’s token. A flicker of interest showed before he offered a perfunctory salute. “I presume this Fellow Daoist is the Spirit Farm’s new Spirit Cultivator Envoy.”

Zhao Feng clapped Jiang Chen on the shoulder. “This is no ordinary envoy! He earned the position in his early twenties and has the favor of both the Grain Master and the Manager!”

A ripple of surprise went through Ji Mingxuan and the other Spirit Grain Sect disciples.

“Such a young Spirit Cultivator Envoy is indeed a rarity.”

“His talent in cultivation and nurturing must be extraordinary.”

Jiang Chen’s face remained a mask of indifference. “Don’t forget why you summoned me.”

Zhao Feng slapped his forehead in a display of feigned forgetfulness. “Look at me! The thought completely slipped my mind.”

“What is this about?” Ji Mingxuan asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Well,” Zhao Feng began, “I have a spirit rice plant that’s developed a problem. I sent for Spirit Envoy Jiang, and as luck would have it, you all arrived around the same time.”

The explanation drew looks of confusion from everyone, Jiang Chen included. If it was just a single plant, why not simply uproot it? During the harvest season, such a minor loss was insignificant.

A sly, meaningful glint entered Zhao Feng’s eyes. “To be precise, it’s a *mutated* rice plant.”

That changed everything. No one would summon the Spirit Envoy for a common plant. But a mutated one? Its value was immeasurable.

“Everyone, follow me,” Zhao Feng announced, turning on his heel.

The group followed him away from the buildings and out into the open fields, walking nearly a kilometer deeper into the farmland.

There, in the center of a two-acre plot of second-grade spirit land, it stood alone. The rest of the field was bare, its bounty already harvested. Only this single, monstrous plant remained.

“This is it,” Zhao Feng said, pointing. “This Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice is the one with the problem.”

All eyes fell upon it. The mutated plant was massive, standing over five meters tall. Its countless ears of grain gave it a dense, leafy appearance, like a giant, opened umbrella. Its properties were similar to the Golden Spirit Rice, imbuing its grains with metal-attribute Spirit Qi, but its yield was exponentially greater. Exchanged at the sect, it would be worth nearly 2,000 contribution points.

By all rights, the entire plant should have been a brilliant, shimmering gold. Instead, its leaves were marred by a constellation of eerie, violet-blue blotches. The sight was deeply unsettling, utterly unnatural.

Zhao Feng’s voice rang out, loud and clear for all to hear. “So, Spirit Envoy Jiang, let us see what you’re made of!”