Back inside his home, Qin Ming set up the soundproofing array.
From this day forward, no matter how rowdy things got next door, they wouldn’t disturb him in the least.
“Hah—feels good.
The whole world is finally quiet.” For the time being, Qin Ming poured all his focus into his five mu of spirit fields.
This directly determined his future destiny.
Ten days later.
The spirit rice in the fields had begun to sprout, forming a lush, verdant expanse.
Qin Ming hurried out to inspect the crops at the earliest opportunity.
What he cared about most was what kind of traits would spawn across these five mu of land.
Scanning the green shoots, four glowing traits flickered amidst the rice paddy.
[Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Faint Spiritual Energy (10% Maturity) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Faint Spiritual Energy (15% Maturity) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Beast-Repelling Art x5 (12% Maturity) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Mother Seed – Beast-Tooth Rice (10% Maturity) “New traits have appeared.” Joy lit up Qin Ming’s expression.
Aside from [Faint Spiritual Energy], two completely new traits had shown up.
“Pity that no ripening trait appeared,” he murmured with a hint of regret.
The Beast-Repelling Art was a technique he was quite familiar with; it was another type of plant-cultivation spell.
When used in conjunction with a specialized bell-type magical artifact, it could quickly drive away various fierce beasts to protect spirit plants.
However, cultivating this spell was notoriously difficult—even harder to master than the Spirit Rain Art—and very few people knew it.
The number attached to the trait presumably meant he could cast it five times.
Qin Ming’s attention then shifted to the final trait.
“Eh?
Beast-Tooth Rice…
That sounds familiar.
I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere…” Frowning slightly, Qin Ming ransacked his memories.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration crossed his mind, and he remembered!
He slapped his storage pouch, and a thin booklet materialized in his hand.
To be precise, this was a manual on spirit plant cultivation distributed to them by the Spirit Feather Sect.
Qin Ming quickly flipped to the final few pages.
Beast-Tooth Rice: A lower-grade tier-one spirit plant.
Pure white as snow and shaped like a beast’s fang.
Consuming it not only moderately enhances blood vitality, strengthens bones and muscles, and harmonizes the internal organs, but the spiritual energy it contains is five times that of ordinary Golden Spirit Rice!
Golden Spirit Rice was merely ordinary spirit rice and did not even rank within the official tiers.
Beast-Tooth Rice, on the other hand, fell into the category of lower-grade tier-one spirit plants and was relatively rare.
It was precisely the kind of treasure body-refining cultivators craved passionately; whenever it appeared in the market, it was invariably bought out instantly.
However, the cultivation conditions for Beast-Tooth Rice were quite harsh: it required the use of the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art to channel the spirit vein’s energy for sustained, long-term irrigation.
Furthermore, its maturation cycle was extremely long—even the lowest-quality Beast-Tooth Rice took two years to mature—and its yield was notoriously low.
Its price was ten times that of Golden Spirit Rice, and even its seeds were exceptionally expensive.
The Spirit Feather Sect’s manual even included a specially highlighted note: [Any spirit farmer who successfully cultivates and produces Beast-Tooth Rice will have their spirit rice taxes halved.] Being able to cultivate a lower-grade tier-one spirit plant meant one was qualified to advance to a Tier-One Spirit Planter.
That status would place them a huge cut above ordinary low-tier spirit farmers.
“It’s actually Beast-Tooth Rice seeds!
I’ve struck gold!” Qin Ming was overjoyed.
Right now, he needed to take even better care of these five mu of spirit fields.
A little over three months from now, the spirit rice tax would be due once again, and that would be the true test of his survival.
It directly concerned his life and limb.
During this period, Qin Ming kept his nerves strained taut; absolutely nothing could be allowed to go wrong in the spirit fields.
Without wasting a moment, Qin Ming meticulously cleared away the weeds and used his final charge of the [Intermediate Spirit Rain Art].
Days passed by one by one.
Qin Ming left early and returned late every day, working diligently and toiling away with single-minded focus.
He eagerly anticipated the rapid ripening of his spirit rice.
When he wasn’t tending to the fields, he poured himself into cultivating the Everlasting Spring Art and the Spirit Rain Art.
Having fully experienced the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art five times, his mastery over the spell had progressed by leaps and bounds, especially after countless rounds of repetitive practice and exploration.
He had finally grasped the knack of it.
A month later.
Looking up at the massive cloud covering his entire five mu of spirit fields, a look of delight spread across Qin Ming’s face.
“The Intermediate Spirit Rain Art—I’ve mastered it!” From now on, even without relying on traits, he could independently cast the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art.
It was just that his magic power reserves at the Second Layer of Qi Condensation were truly lamentable.
Even so.
To maximize his yield, Qin Ming went all out!
Every time he cast the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art, he squeezed himself dry down to the very last thread of magic power!
To ensure he could trigger rain two to three times every week, he returned home from the fields every single day looking pale, weak, and hollowed out, practically dragging himself along by leaning against the walls.
“Good grief, I never would’ve guessed that about Daoist Qin.” “To be honest, have you been secretly taking care of your neighbor Li Yanli’s ‘business’ lately?” “Young man, you’ve got to know when to show some restraint!” “Even an iron-forged backbone and a steel-cast kidney can’t take that kind of daily abuse.” To the point where his neighbors briefly assumed he had been blowing his money on wild, unrestrained indulgences.
‘Sigh, my cultivation level is still too low.
Every time I cast the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art, my spiritual energy just can’t keep up.’ Qin Ming sighed inwardly.
Facing all these speculations, he could only offer an awkward smile and refrain from giving any elaborate explanations.
Tending to his farming in peace was the ultimate path to success.
Watching the spirit rice in his fields grow sturdier day by day, Qin Ming wore a deeply satisfied smile.
“All this hard work hasn’t been in vain.” Over two months later.
The spirit rice reached maturity.
[Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Faint Spiritual Energy (100% Maturity, Ready for Harvest) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Faint Spiritual Energy (100% Maturity, Ready for Harvest) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Beast-Repelling Art x5 (100% Maturity, Ready for Harvest) [Name]: Golden Spirit Rice [Attribute]: Mother Seed – Beast-Tooth Rice (100% Maturity, Ready for Harvest) Qin Ming gathered those four stalks of spirit rice, and four white leaves instantly materialized within his sea of consciousness.
Before long.
The various spirit farmers began harvesting their crops under the watchful eye of supervisor Du Haifu.
When it came time for Du Haifu to inspect Qin Ming’s plot, the supervisor couldn’t help but register a hint of genuine astonishment.
A glance across the field revealed that every single stalk of golden spirit rice in Qin Ming’s plot was plump, heavy-grained, and so massive that the stalks were weighed down into dramatic arcs.
“You actually managed to learn the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art?” Du Haifu turned back to look at Qin Ming, studying him for a long moment before finally letting out a rare display of praise.
“I had a stroke of luck a while back and managed to master it.” “Not bad, quite impressive.
Go ahead and harvest your rice.” Qin Ming set to work with brisk efficiency, reaping the spirit rice stalks.
After a full day of hard labor, he harvested a whopping eight massive sacks of spirit rice.
Du Haifu stepped forward to verify and weigh the harvest.
“Total spirit rice harvested: eight shi and twenty catties…” “Required tax contribution: seventy percent, amounting to five hundred and seventy-four catties in total.” Just as his voice trailed off.
A massive flying dharma boat cut through the sky above, trailing a streak of light as it came to a steady halt directly over the upper airspace of the mountain slope.
Standing proudly at the bow of the vessel with his hands clasped behind his back was an elderly man in blue robes, wearing a rigid, stern expression.
Standing neatly and respectfully behind him were seven or eight outer sect disciples of the Spirit Feather Sect.
The moment Du Haifu caught sight of the man, he hurried to bow deeply, cupping his fists.
“Greetings, Deacon Gu!
In accordance with your instructions, the spirit rice taxes for this season have been fully collected.
Please review the records, Senior.” With that, he carefully presented a jade slip.
Qin Ming hurriedly bowed his head alongside the others.
Before Deacon Gu, Du Haifu cut a thoroughly subservient figure, entirely devoid of the swagger and arrogance he usually projected toward the ordinary spirit farmers.
Even though the man was merely an outer sect deacon of the Spirit Feather Sect, he was still Du Haifu’s direct superior, and Du Haifu wouldn’t dare step out of line for even a second.
Deacon Gu finished reviewing the jade slip and instructed his disciples to gather all the spirit farmers into one place.
There were well over three hundred people present.
Cai Old Jiu elbowed his way through the crowd until he reached Qin Ming, poking him with an elbow as he asked with a grin, “Brother Qin, how did it go?
How’s the harvest today?” Qin Ming laughed it off, keeping his expression neutral.
“Not bad.
But speaking of which, Old Jiu, you weren’t very honest with me!
You had a massive harvest last season and didn’t even tip me off—keeping all the profits to yourself, eh?” “Hehe, well, aren’t they all getting turned over as tribute anyway?” Cai Old Jiu muttered evasively, his eyes darting away with a guilty look.
At that moment, Deacon Gu swept his gaze across the assembled crowd and announced in a voice utterly devoid of warmth: “The spirit rice taxes for these past three seasons have now been fully collected.” “In accordance with instructions from within the sect, this deacon hereby announces a decree: the ten cultivators whose total annual spirit rice yield ranks at the very bottom will be forcibly drafted and dispatched to the front-line battle camps to reinforce our manpower.
No disobedience will be tolerated.” Deacon Gu’s unquestionable decree landed like a thunderclap, exploding inside the hearts of every single spirit farmer and leaving their minds reeling.
“What?
Front-line battle camps?” “No—that can’t be true, right?” “I…
surely I won’t rank at the bottom, right?” “Why wasn’t something like this announced in advance?!” …
Panic swept through the crowd as the spirit farmers instantly lost their composure, each fearing for his own safety.
“Humph!” Deacon Gu let out a cold snort, and the oppressive aura of a peak-stage Qi Condensation cultivator swept outward across the area.
The crowd instantly quieted down.
“The spirit rice yields for these three quarters, along with everyone’s respective rankings, are recorded right here.
You may inspect them yourselves.” With a wave of Deacon Gu’s hand, the nearby Spirit Feather Sect disciple stepped forward and struck the jade slip floating in front of them with a spell incantation.
In an instant.
A massive screen of light materialized high above the heads of the spirit farmers, displaying densely packed rows of clearly legible text.
It listed every single person in descending order by rank, accompanied by their specific yields for each quarter.
Qin Ming lifted his head for a quick scan and swiftly located his name: 156th place!
“Hah—” He let out a long breath of relief.
Right in the middle of the pack.
The rock in his stomach finally settled back into place.
“How is this possible?
Eight shi and twenty catties?!” A cry of shock rang out from Cai Old Jiu right beside him.
A dramatic scene played out before their eyes.
On the luminous rankings list: 157th place, Cai Jiuwu…
Cai Old Jiu’s ranking came immediately after Qin Ming’s.
You have to understand: during the previous two quarters, Cai Old Jiu’s spirit rice yields had comfortably surpassed Qin Ming’s by a wide margin.
Yet Qin Ming’s yield for this third quarter was so absurdly high that it had completely blown past him!
Strictly judging by the third quarter’s output alone, Qin Ming had actually broken into the top fifty.
The highest-ranking individuals were almost entirely veteran mid-stage Qi Condensation spirit farmers.
“I presume you have all seen your standings clearly?” “The bottom ten on this list, step forward and board the boat with me.” “Tian Youcai, Zhao Shan, Lin Chengdong…” The ten spirit farmers whose names were called turned instantly ashen, their hearts plunging into despair.
What awaited them was the brutal, meat-grinder environment of front-line land clearing.
Yet faced with Deacon Gu’s command, none of them dared to disobey.
The designated men were escorted onto the flying boat by the Spirit Feather Sect disciples.
“I hope the rest of you will continue to strive and work hard at your farming over the coming year to contribute to the sect.
The sect has established a new quota for next year: the next batch sent to the battle camps will comprise the bottom thirty spirit farmer cultivators.” Deacon Gu’s uncompromising voice echoed long and hard in everyone’s ears.
Hearing this, Qin Ming mused inwardly.
This time around, the Spirit Feather Sect hadn’t given advance notice, leaving the vast majority of spirit farmers completely in the dark regarding the threat of being drafted to the battle camps.
Had Du Haifu not given him that timely hint back then, he undoubtedly would have been kept completely in the dark as well.
But after this incident today…
Next year, intense internal competition among them as spirit farmers was an absolute certainty.
After all.
Nobody wanted to go serve as frontline cannon fodder.
Qin Ming looked down at the four trait leaves resting quietly within his sea of consciousness.
An inexplicable wave of emotion welled up inside him.
In the past.
Mastering the Intermediate Spirit Rain Art in such a short span of time was something he wouldn’t even have dared to dream of.
And yet now.
It had taken him less than half a year.
His experience in planting spirit rice had also grown significantly.
Once he paid off this season’s spirit rice tax, he would still have over two hundred and fifty catties of Golden Spirit Rice left over.
Such a large quantity of spirit rice couldn’t possibly be consumed by himself alone.
Once he sold the surplus, he’d be able to stash away another tidy sum of spirit stones.
With spirit stones in hand, he would have that much more confidence and foundation for surviving in such a harsh environment.
“Even so, at this rate of development, my cultivation progress will soon fall behind.” “If I keep draining my magic power at this high-intensity rate for too long, it will inevitably damage my meridians in an irreversible way.” Besides, he was now in possession of Beast-Tooth Rice seeds.
Cultivating Beast-Tooth Rice needed to be brought onto his schedule as soon as possible.
And maintaining the magic power circulation for the intermediate-level spirit rain over extended periods…
The Third Layer of Qi Condensation was the absolute bare minimum requirement.
“I wonder if those two [Faint Spiritual Energy] traits will be enough to push me through to the Third Layer of Qi Condensation?” “No matter what, I need to farm even harder and make sure I roll that [Ripening] trait again!”