The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

Chapter 311: Omen of Disaster

Jiang Chen gazed at the Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice before him, his voice low. “So, what’s your assessment of this… specimen?”

Zhao Feng could only shake his head. “By all rights, a problem like this shouldn’t have appeared so soon after our relocation.”

Jiang Chen arched a brow, his tone laced with a cool, mocking politeness. “The esteemed Zhao Clan, with a legacy spanning over a millennium… surely you’ve encountered your share of calamities. And yet, you’re telling me you’re stumped?”

Zhao Feng spread his hands, already backpedaling. “We can handle conventional issues ourselves. But this… this feels different. Unnatural, even.”

A flicker of genuine curiosity crossed Jiang Chen’s eyes.

Zhao Feng pointed a trembling finger at the plant. “Every other spirit plant in this field is perfectly healthy. Only this mutated stalk is afflicted.”

Jiang Chen’s mind raced. *Spirit-Eroding Fungus typically manifests where Spirit Qi is either overwhelmingly dense or critically sparse. As for Meridian-Reversing Worms, they are almost exclusively parasites of spirit beasts, with only a vanishingly small chance of infesting a cultivator.*

Zhao Feng’s expression tightened. “Both of those are tied to cultivators. Could it be…”

“And this Yin-Cold Spirit-Locking Curse,” Jiang Chen cut in, his voice deceptively calm. “Was that your handiwork?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “Dispel it. I’m taking this Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice back for analysis.”

Flustered, Zhao Feng fumbled in his Storage Ring, pulling out a small pile of Yang-attribute items. “Of course, Fellow Daoist Jiang,” he stammered, arranging them around the blighted plant before channeling his own wood-attribute spiritual power.

Instantly, a wave of heat radiated outwards, the air beginning to shimmer. Within moments, the area had become scorching. The method for dispelling the Yin-Cold Spirit-Locking Curse was crude but effective: overwhelm the Yin energy with pure heat until it was completely burned away.

Throughout the process, Jiang Chen’s focus was absolute. His eyes missed nothing, his spiritual sense swept over the plant like a fine-toothed comb, and beneath it all, his system’s analytical power hummed to life, dissecting every layer of reality—the external, the internal, and every overlooked crevice.

Before long, the last wisp of frosty energy vanished. The Yin-Cold Spirit-Locking Curse was gone.

[Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice]

[Status: Mature]

[Afflictions:]

[- Leaves corroded by Spirit-Eroding Fungus]

[- Root system infested with Meridian-Reversing Worms]

[- Insufficient Spirit Qi]

Three problems remained, but the lack of Spirit Qi was trivial. The other two, however, were catastrophic. If left unsolved, this rare specimen was destined for the incinerator.

Zhao Feng gathered his Yang-attribute items and retreated a few steps. “Fellow Daoist Jiang, the curse has been lifted.”

Jiang Chen gave a curt nod. He activated the wood-attribute Spirit Qi in his dantian, and a verdant light enveloped the Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice. With a gentle pull of his will, he commanded its roots to slide free from the dark soil.

In the span of a few breaths, the full extent of the horror was revealed. A creeping blight of bruised-purple veins and sickening pustules had spread across the entire plant. From the highest grain to the deepest root, it was covered in the grotesque pattern. The sight was enough to make one’s skin crawl, a visceral revulsion that twisted the gut.

“Such a magnificent spirit plant it once was,” Zhao Feng lamented, his voice strained.

Under Jiang Chen’s precise control, the entire plant floated into the air, seemingly intact. With a flick of his wrist, it vanished into his Jade Green Gourd.

He then stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the freshly turned earth. His spiritual sense plunged deep into the soil. Two meters down, his senses brushed against them—clusters of Meridian-Reversing Worm eggs. A knot of ice formed in his stomach.

“Quarantine this field. Now,” he ordered, his voice sharp as steel. “None of the harvested rice from this plot is to be used. Seal every last grain.”

Zhao Feng’s eyes went wide. “Is it that serious?”

“I was careless before,” Jiang Chen said, his expression grim. “Now, I suspect your entire area may be on the verge of a disaster. This must be taken with the utmost seriousness.”

*They thought they could make a fool of me with this little test,* he thought, his mind cold and clear. The presence of Ji Mingxuan and his cohort confirmed it. *And yet, their petty scheme has stumbled upon something far more significant.*

Zhao Feng sucked in a sharp, cold breath, the color draining from his face. They had been forced to abandon their last territory precisely because of a disaster. To think that another one might be brewing here, right after their very first harvest… it was unthinkable.

Jiang Chen summoned his Giant Leaf. As it lifted him into the air, he delivered a final warning. “Remember: do not use any of the rice that *appears* healthy. Not a single grain.”

Zhao Feng nodded numbly, his mind reeling.

With that, Jiang Chen shot towards the heart of the Spirit Farms like an arrow loosed from a bow. Along the way, his spiritual sense blanketed the fields below, augmented by the power of his system. Wherever his gaze fell, no detail could escape his analytical perception.

His vigilance paid off. He spotted several other fields where the black soil was showing signs of nutrient depletion.

He swooped down to question the local farmers. “Don’t you see a problem here?”

“Easy there, Spirit Envoy Jiang,” one of them replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “These fields are new. ‘Course the soil’s a bit thin!”

“Aye, that’s right!” another chimed in. “We’ve been farming for decades. You can rest easy!”

To them, it was simple logic. Newly tilled land couldn’t compare to fields cultivated for years. Besides, fewer than ten acres were affected, and the overall yield was stable.

But a deep-seated unease gnawed at Jiang Chen. He knew it wasn’t that simple. He sternly instructed the farmers to monitor their plots constantly before departing once more.

Fueled by a sense of impending crisis, he reached Flat Top Mountain before nightfall. This time, he didn’t bother stopping at the base. He flew directly toward the summit, not daring to waste a single second.

Murmurs erupted from below.

“The sheer audacity! Who does he think he is, flying directly to the summit?”

“Even as a Cultivation Envoy, that’s a flagrant breach of the rules!”

Jiang Chen couldn’t be bothered with them. He landed the Giant Leaf at the palace entrance, ignoring the saluting and bowing farmers. He paid them no mind, his focus singular as he stormed through the palace gates.

Elder Mu, seeing the commotion, felt a rare surge of displeasure. “Jiang Chen! What is the meaning of this spectacle!”

“Manager, there was no time to stand on ceremony!” Jiang Chen said breathlessly. “I had no choice but to break the rules!”

Elder Mu’s irritation gave way to surprise. “Hmm?”

Jiang Chen wasted no time, materializing the blighted Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice from his Jade Green Gourd. “See for yourself!”

Elder Mu’s gaze swept over the plant, his powerful senses instantly grasping its condition. Spirit-Eroding Fungus on the leaves. Meridian-Reversing Worms in the roots. Two notoriously difficult afflictions, appearing simultaneously—a rare and troubling combination.

The elder frowned. “It is merely a single problematic plant. That alone is hardly cause to shatter sect protocol, is it?”

“If it were only that, I wouldn’t have dared to disturb you,” Jiang Chen stated firmly. “The reason for my haste is what I found with it.”

He quickly recounted the events at the Zhao Clan’s farm, from the curse to the discovery of the eggs deep underground.

Elder Mu’s expression shifted from surprise to deep gravity. When Jiang Chen finished, his voice was a low growl. “Are you certain this is a potential omen of disaster?”

Jiang Chen met his gaze without flinching, his own expression utterly serious. “If I am wrong, this disciple will accept any punishment. Strip me of my title as Cultivation Envoy—I do not care. But if there is even a one-in-ten-thousand chance that I am right, we cannot afford to ignore it!”