Back in his shack, Chen Ping lay on his creaking bed of broken planks, unable to sleep.
The dull pain of Ore Toxin spread deep within his body, like countless tiny needles of ice.
He closed his eyes, but his mind was exceptionally clear, repeatedly analyzing every detail.
Within the Jade Pendant, the Black Earth could grow Spirit Grain. However, Spirit Grain’s requirement for Qi was far lower than that of Purifying Grass.
Did the Black Earth count as a Spirit Field?
Did the aura within the space count as Qi?
He didn’t know.
He only knew that this was the only place he could try.
Caution.
He must be cautious.
He couldn’t stake all his hopes on a single attempt. What if the space couldn’t sustain its growth? What if the seeds themselves were defective?
He couldn’t afford to lose.
After completing five sets of the Vitality Technique, Chen Ping felt slightly more comfortable. Without hesitation, he entered the Jade Pendant space.
He had divided the space into three distinct areas.
One section was piled high like a small mountain with Spirit Rice.
He had already eaten a little over one hundred jin of Spirit Rice raw. But out of his original twelve hundred jin, that was hardly much.
On another side sat a simple makeshift kitchen and drying racks.
Half a month ago, Chen Ping had “accidentally” obtained an iron pot. This meant he no longer had to eat raw Spirit Rice and could instead enjoy fragrant, cooked meals that lingered on the palate.
As for the Wild Boar meat, he had processed almost all of it. The skeleton was discarded outside the space, while the meat was either kept for grilling and stews or hung on the racks to cure into jerky.
Chen Ping walked to the central area of the Black Earth.
He crouched down and used his rough fingers to carefully dig a shallow hole in the soil.
His movements were light and slow, as if performing a sacred ritual.
He took a small paper packet from inside his clothes. It held three dark brown seeds.
Holding his breath, he gingerly picked up one seed with his fingertips. Gently, steadily, he placed it into the small hole.
Then, using the surrounding fine soil, he evenly covered the seed, leaving only a thin layer on top.
No water.
Within this space, no water was needed.
He had grown the Spirit Grain without a single drop of water. He dared not water this seed recklessly and risk doing harm instead of good.
After finishing, he took a step back, his gaze tightly fixed on the small mound of earth.
Worry overwhelmed him.
Was this step right or wrong? There was no way to verify.
But the step had been taken; life or death now depended entirely on fate.
He stayed in the space for a long time, silently watching where he had buried the seed. Only when he grew mentally exhausted did he reluctantly leave.
The foul air of the shack instantly rushed into his nostrils; the tightness in his chest became even more pronounced.
He lay down and closed his eyes, but all he saw was that dark brown seed and the pitch-black soil swaying before him.
Mining was even more agonizing the next day.
His intense anticipation and anxiety made the exhaustion and the sensation of Ore Toxin eating away at him feel many times worse.
Every swing of the pickaxe felt like his arms were weighted with mountains. Every breath tugged at a dull ache deep within his organs.
He hardly dared to think about the situation inside the space, afraid of returning to find complete stillness.
He could only force himself to focus on the rock before him, using mechanical repetition to suppress his inner turmoil.
Finally, he endured until the end of the shift.
Instead of dragging his heavy steps slowly back to the shack as usual, he forced himself to speed up. He almost ran.
Upon rushing into his solitary shack, he immediately entered the Jade Pendant space.
He practically lunged toward yesterday’s planting spot. His gaze swept urgently over the patch of Black Earth.
Then, his breath hitched.
On that patch of pitch-black soil, a tiny speck of extremely faint greenness—almost imperceptible—had pierced through the dark brown seed coat and timidly peeked out.
The sprout was as fine as a newly hatched larva. Its color was an almost translucent pale green. Against the backdrop of the dark soil, it looked so fragile it made one’s heart tremble.
But it truly existed.
It was alive!
An indescribable rush of warmth surged to Chen Ping’s head, almost making him dizzy.
Wild joy washed away his despair like a tidal wave.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably. He wanted to touch that speck of tender green but stopped halfway, afraid that even his breath might disturb this fragile life.
It worked!
It really worked!
This Black Earth, this space… it really could grow Purifying Grass!
The power of hope dispelled the accumulated fatigue and discomfort from his body. An unprecedented excitement supported him.
He hesitated no longer.
He immediately took the small packet of oiled paper from inside his clothes. The two remaining seeds lay within.
Gingerly, beside the first seed, he dug two more holes of the same size and depth.
His fingers were clumsy from excitement, but he forced them to be steady.
He picked up one seed and placed it into the hole, covering it with soil.
He picked up the last one, placed it, and covered it.
His movements carried devout focus and determination. Three seeds, three hopes—all planted.
When the last seed was completely covered by the fine Black Earth, Chen Ping slowly stood up and took a long, deep breath.
The oppressive despair that had weighed him down for the past month dissipated completely from his chest.
He remembered someone saying that the growth cycle of Purifying Grass was twelve months. Twelve months to mature, twenty-four months to bear seeds.
From his experience growing Spirit Grain on the Black Earth, it grew twelve times as fast there as in an ordinary Spirit Field.
Barring accidents, after one month, these three Purifying Grass plants would be fully mature.
There was only one way he could use the three plants.
He would have to consume one to remove the Ore Toxin from his body.
At the rate his health was declining, the Ore Toxin might leave him with less than two hundred jin of strength in two months.
If that happened, he would fail to complete the mining tasks issued by the Immortals.
The Immortals had nothing against him personally. Whether he met the quota or failed made no difference to them.
But certain people wouldn’t be happy.
Fatty Wang would certainly come to make his life miserable. He might even join forces with the mine officials to have Chen Ping expelled from the sect.
That would end his chance to rise above his lowly station—and to save his parents.
He could not lose this opportunity.
He still had to seek revenge!
Therefore, of the three Purifying Grass plants, he could only grit his teeth and consume one to remove most of the toxins from his body. This would allow him to mine normally and maintain his life here.
As for the remaining two Purifying Grass plants…
How many seeds they bore after two months would be up to Heaven.
Chen Ping’s heart filled with gratitude.
Regardless, he finally saw hope.
As long as hope persisted, he would persist. He would keep going!