The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

The hundred-year-old Meridian-Reversing Worm Mother likely hadn’t been drawn here by the Earth Vein. It had been planted.

But why would Rong Long do it? Why unleash such a creature? Why steer the Zhao Clan to cultivate Spirit Farms in this specific area?

There had to be a motive.

But a conspiracy of this magnitude was far beyond his pay grade. Ultimately, he was just a Spirit Cultivator who had done his job. The Spirit-Eroding Fungus King, the Worm Mother, and the hunt for Rong Long—that was a headache for the big shots, the Field Masters and Abyss Masters of the world.

The wait stretched from dusk till dawn.

Just as the sun crested the horizon, a low hum vibrated through the air. The ground began to tremble, a palpable sign of immense Earth Qi converging with terrifying speed.

In a flash, Zhu Fuxian vanished.

Jiang Chen didn’t hesitate. He roughly shook the drunken, snoring Zhao Feng awake. “Get up! The Earth Vein Abyss Master must have found the Worm Mother.”

Zhao Feng jolted awake, his stupor instantly replaced by alarm.

The commotion had also drawn the attention of Huo Ling, Ji Mingxuan, and the others. They didn’t venture out, however, choosing instead to crack open their doors and windows, peering out with cautious curiosity.

When Jiang Chen and Zhao Feng stumbled outside, they found Zhu Fuxian already standing by the blighted Spirit Farm, the one that once held the Thousand-Ear Golden Light Rice. He wasn’t alone. Earth Vein Manager Yang Zhenyue stood beside him, as did the Abyss Master, Shi Yuan—a towering figure well over twenty feet tall.

All three stared grimly into a newly excavated pit.

Jiang Chen hurried over, his gaze shifting from their solemn faces to the abyss they were studying. He leaned over the edge, and his pupils contracted to pinpricks.

A deep, straight shaft had been bored into the earth, exhaling thick plumes of Earth Qi and a pungent, cloying stench of rot and soil.

But it wasn’t the smell that seized Jiang Chen’s attention. It was the eggs.

A writhing, uncountable carpet of them coated every surface of the tunnel below.

Some had already hatched, the larvae squirming through the blackened soil like living veins. Others remained in their sacs, pulsating with faint, sickening movements.

The unhatched eggs were ovoid, smaller than grains of rice. Their shells were translucent, revealing the coiled silhouettes of the gestating horrors within. They clung to the dead roots of spirit plants and filled every crevice in the soil.

The hatched Meridian-Reversing Worm larvae were a few inches long, crimson-red and as slender as threads of blood. Their bodies were covered in fine, soft scales that glinted with a cold, metallic sheen in the morning light. The head of each creature was little more than a gaping, serrated maw.

They swarmed over the remnants of roots in the black earth, gnawing on them with frantic energy.

Earth Vein Manager Yang Zhenyue spoke, his voice heavy. “The Abyss Master and I delved into this depleted Earth Vein. We found these eggs everywhere, in staggering numbers. This location, however, is the epicenter. They are truly countless here.”

“It’s because the eggs of the Meridian-Reversing Worm parasitize the roots of mutated spirit plants,” Jiang Chen explained. “A mutated rice plant once grew right here. That’s why the infestation is densest at this spot.”

Yang Zhenyue and Abyss Master Shi Yuan gave a slight, grim nod of understanding.

Zhu Fuxian cut to the chase. “Did you find the Meridian-Reversing Worm Mother?”

This time, the colossal Shi Yuan answered before his Manager could. “We found traces, but we lack the certainty to confirm them. We require your expertise.”

Sensing the giant’s hesitation, a knowing, almost cruel, smile touched Zhu Fuxian’s lips. “It’s time you saw what true infestation looks like.”

As he spoke, a cyan light flared, enveloping him, Jiang Chen, and Zhao Feng, pulling them down into the pit.

Yang Zhenyue and the towering Shi Yuan shared a look before dissolving into streams of raw Earth Qi and Yellow Earth Essence, plunging into the depths after them.

The five of them descended, three in the lead and two behind, deeper and deeper into the chasm.

The first hundred feet of the descent were choked with the withered roots of spirit plants. They were riddled with boreholes, the edges stained a dark, corrosive red. A viscous, crimson fluid oozed from the wounds—the foul excreta of the Meridian-Reversing Worms. A constant, dry *shuffling* sound filled the air, the noise of a million tiny bodies moving and feeding.

Deeper still, past three hundred feet, the soil gave way to gray rock. The stone itself was infected, covered in a web of crimson veins. Where the veins converged, fist-sized “brood-tumors” pulsed sickeningly. Their surfaces writhed with a living skin of larvae, all feverishly devouring crystalline deposits embedded within the rock, leaving behind a honeycomb of empty cavities.

At a depth of several thousand feet, the tunnel abruptly opened into a cavern of staggering size. The air was cold, damp, and utterly black.

The rustling was no longer a background noise; it was an all-encompassing roar. A million chitinous clicks and wet, scurrying sounds assaulted them from every direction, a sound that sent a primal shiver down the spine.

They were standing inside the hollowed-out corpse of an Earth Vein.

The once-luminous white crystal of the vein was now stained a ghastly crimson, like a petrified river of gore. Countless pulsating egg sacs, each the size of a grown man’s fist, clung to every surface. As they watched, one sac ruptured, unleashing a waterfall of crimson larvae that cascaded into the squirming masses below.

And beneath the cacophony of rustling, a deeper, more resonant *humming* emanated from the cavern’s abyssal heart.

Both Jiang Chen and Zhao Feng drew a sharp, ragged breath. They had thought the scene on the surface was dire, but only now, deep within the blighted Earth Vein, did they grasp the true terror of the Worm Mother.

“A hundred-year-old Meridian-Reversing Worm Mother, provided with sufficient Spirit Qi and Earth Qi, can produce five egg sacs a day,” Zhu Fuxian stated, his voice unnervingly calm. “Each sac contains roughly a thousand eggs. At two hundred years, that number doubles. The older it gets, the more it produces.”

Even seasoned veterans like Yang Zhenyue and Abyss Master Shi Yuan frowned at the horrifying math, to say nothing of the raw shock on the faces of Jiang Chen and Zhao Feng, who were witnessing such a plague for the first time.

Zhu Fuxian glanced to the side. “Where are the traces you found?”

Yang Zhenyue pointed to their right. “That way.”

He shot off first, a streak of yellow light. The other four followed close behind.

Everywhere they looked was a river of blood and chitin. Every nook and cranny teemed with crimson larvae and glistening eggs.

After traveling a few hundred feet, the deep humming intensified into an aggressive buzzing, so powerful it made the very air vibrate.

Soon, they located the source. A swarm. A swarm of winged, adult Meridian-Reversing Worms.

Each was nearly a foot long, their bodies encased in carapaces of hardened, blackened-crimson chitin. A dark crimson slime oozed from the joints of their armor, sizzling and corroding the rock where it dripped. Their heads were dominated by multifaceted compound eyes that swirled with a malevolent, blood-red light. Their mandibles had evolved into vicious, scythe-like fangs. From the tip of their abdomens extended a long, straight stinger that pulsed with a venomous, cerulean light—an unmistakable sign of its lethal poison.