My Portable Spirit Farm: Rise of the Humble Servant

“Who’s there?! Get the hell out here!”

Scarred Bear’s roar detonated like a thunderclap, shaking dust from the wooden rafters of the shack.

His massive frame launched from the chair with shocking agility. In his hand, a heavy ghost-headed broadsword appeared as if by magic, its tip pointing unerringly at the slag heap where Chen Ping was concealed.

Chen Ping’s heart tightened slightly.

Keen senses.

This Scarred Bear is no ordinary thug.

To possess such sharp instincts in a place like this meant the man had encountered opportunities unknown to the common masses.

Since he had been discovered, there was no point in hiding.

Chen Ping stepped out from behind the mound of industrial waste. His gray robe fluttered in the hot, toxic wind, his face a mask of indifference.

Scarred Bear narrowed his eyes. Seeing a stranger—a young man in a gray robe—his wariness didn’t fade. Instead, a fierce, predatory light intensified in his gaze.

“Dare I ask, Fellow Daoist, which Sect do you hail from? Barging into my territory… do you have business here?”

He swept his gaze up and down, assessing Chen Ping’s cultivation base and potential threat level.

Chen Ping stopped about ten meters away. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

“I’m looking for two people. Chen Dashan and Lin Shi.”

“Looking for people?”

Scarred Bear paused, stunned. Then, his face twisted. The centipede-like scar writhed as he burst into a grating, mocking laugh.

“Hahaha! Looking for people? You came to this pit of the dead to find people? Kid, did a door slam on your head?”

The laughter cut off instantly. His eyes turned as cold as a winter gale.

“Scram! I’m in a good mood, so get lost! Don’t think just because you’re a cultivator that I won’t butcher you. Keep spouting nonsense, and I’ll chop you into meat paste and feed you to the corpse worms!”

Chen Ping remained unmoved. He watched the man with dead eyes.

“Where are they?”

Scarred Bear’s face flushed crimson. The disregard in Chen Ping’s tone was the ultimate insult.

“You’re looking to die!”

Before the words fully left his mouth, his enormous body erupted with terrifying speed. Like a frenzied bull, he closed the distance in three strides.

The heavy broadsword tore through the air with a low, mournful whistle, carrying a suffocating stench of blood. He swung it horizontally, aiming to cleave Chen Ping in half at the waist.

The force was immense—heavy enough to slice through solid rock.

Fast. Ferocious. Ruthless.

Scarred Bear held nothing back. He intended to end this with a single strike. His Qi Condensation sixth layer cultivation exploded outward, seeking the most efficient kill possible.

Facing this mountain-crushing blow, Chen Ping’s eyes did not ripple.

He didn’t retreat.

He simply leaned back—a calculated sway of mere inches.

The howling blade swept past, shaving the air in front of his chest. The wind pressure alone caused his gray robe to snap and rustle violently.

The strike missed.

Scarred Bear’s massive momentum carried him forward, his balance compromising for a split second as his old strength faded and new strength had yet to rise.

In that microsecond, Chen Ping moved.

Simple. Efficient.

His right hand shot out like a viper, fingers spread like iron pincers. He clamped down with surgical precision onto Scarred Bear’s right wrist—the one gripping the sword.

Crack!

The crushing power of the Qi Condensation seventh layer revealed the insurmountable chasm between the mid and late stages.

With a simple, brutal squeeze, the bones ground to dust.

“Argh—!”

Scarred Bear howled. His wrist twisted at a grotesque angle, the agony instantly draining his strength.

Chen Ping’s left hand swept out casually, as if brushing away a nuisance fly.

A surge of overwhelming spiritual force slammed into the large man. Scarred Bear’s fist, the size of a clay pot, was knocked aside along with his entire arm.

Chen Ping, still gripping the broken wrist, yanked downward with sudden, violent force.

Bang!

Scarred Bear’s three-hundred-pound frame was whipped through the air like a ragdoll and slammed into the hard, scorching slag ground.

Dust and bloody froth sprayed from his mouth and nose.

Chen Ping stepped forward, placing one foot firmly on Scarred Bear’s broad chest.

It felt as though a ten-thousand-pound boulder had descended. Scarred Bear’s scream cut off, replaced by ragged, wet gasps. His chest heaved violently against the boot, but he couldn’t move a muscle.

He stared up at Chen Ping.

The young man’s eyes were close now. They were calm, deep, and terrifyingly empty. There was no anger. Only killing intent. Pure, distilled functionality.

“Where are they?”

Chen Ping’s voice was softer now, yet infinitely colder.

He applied slightly more pressure. The ribs beneath his boot groaned, on the verge of snapping.

“Hah… huff…”

Scarred Bear gasped desperately. He couldn’t process it. This youth, barely twenty years old, was a Qi Condensation seventh layer cultivator?

Against a seventh layer expert, his sixth layer cultivation was a joke. He had been crushed without a chance to use any of his hidden trump cards.

Terror overwhelmed his bloodlust.

Struggling against the weight, he raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the dark, gaping maw of the Abandoned Pit.

“Down… down there… the very bottom… East branch tunnel… at the… the end…”

He sensed the pressure on his chest increasing. A suffocating premonition of death gripped his heart.

He’s going to kill me. He really is going to kill me.

I have to live. I have the Immortal Fortune! I can’t die here!

“F-Fellow Daoist… we have no grudge… no need for this! I… I’ll trade! I’ll trade my Immortal Fortune for my life… It’s real! It can allow a Mortal… to defy the Heavens… to change their fate! A real Immortal Fortune!”

Chen Ping paused.

Allow a Mortal to change their fate?

Does he mean… enabling a Mortal to step onto the Immortal Path?

The killing intent stalled.

His parents had no Spirit Roots. They were destined to be dust. But if he could obtain such a fortune… if he could let his parents cultivate…

“Today, I will temporarily spare your dog life.”

Chen Ping reached into his Jade Pendant and retrieved a blood-red Pill.

“Swallow it.”

Scarred Bear saw the Pill not as poison, but as salvation. The wild joy of a survivor erupted in his eyes. He didn’t hesitate for a second, swallowing it in one gulp.

“Fellow Daoist, rest assured! I won’t run!”

Chen Ping nodded coldly.

“This is the Seven-Day Soul Scattering Pill. If you do not take the antidote I provide within seven days, your soul will dissipate. Not even a Golden Immortal could save you. Do you understand?”

Scarred Bear nodded frantically like a chicken pecking rice.

He was the fish on the chopping block. Resistance was meaningless.

“I… I understand! I only hope the Great One will show mercy in the future!”

Chen Ping’s eyes narrowed.

“If you dare deceive me, you know the ending.”

Scarred Bear froze, terror washing over him again. He scrambled to his knees, kowtowing on the sharp slag.

“Great One, Great One… I have no second thoughts! Every word is true! If you don’t believe me, you can check the mine yourself!”

Only then did Chen Ping withdraw his gaze.

Without another word, he turned and vanished into the darkness of the mine shaft.