The Eternal Farmer: I Trade My Harvest for Immortality

Qin Hao descended on a streak of sword light, his arrival instantly drawing the eyes of everyone in the plaza.

“Senior Brother Qin!”

“Good morning, Senior Brother Qin!”

“Bringing someone up the mountain, Senior Brother?”

Disciples tripped over themselves to offer warm, enthusiastic greetings. Whether they actually knew him or not didn’t matter; getting on a core disciple’s radar was the priority.

Qin Hao offered a curt nod in acknowledgment before leading Jiang Chen away from the crowd. “Tai’e Hall rests on the sword’s body,” he explained, gesturing to the layout. “The Myriad Sword Tomb sits at the hilt, and the White Tiger Cave is located at the tip. Almost everyone, from the Immortal Elders to the core disciples, resides here on the sword’s body.”

Jiang Chen nodded. Vajra Peak stretched for thousands of feet, a colossal monolith easily large enough to house a sprawling population of cultivators.

The ambient Metal Spirit Qi here was exceptionally rich, growing denser the closer one moved toward the peak—the tip of the metaphorical sword. Naturally, Jiang Chen couldn’t just brazenly circulate his Carved Gold Art to absorb it right in front of Qin Hao.

Fortunately, his portable space had completely integrated with his Five Element Spirit Roots. It passively siphoned the ambient elemental energy without emitting a single ripple that outsiders could detect. Even if he couldn’t cultivate openly now, he could always retreat to his portable space later to process the harvest.

The two chatted idly as they ventured deeper into the sect. Despite its name, Tai’e Hall wasn’t a single building, but rather a sprawling, interconnected architectural complex. “Tai’e” was simply the name of the central palace.

Eventually, Qin Hao stopped before a secluded courtyard. A vertical wooden plaque hung above the gate, bearing two bold, black characters: Nurturing Heart.

“The elder cultivating here is a Martial Uncle of mine,” Qin Hao introduced. “He possesses dual Metal-Water Spirit Roots. His name is Mo Yuan, though he is better known as the Mind’s Eye Sword.”

Jiang Chen blinked in surprise. “The Mind’s Eye Sword?”

“Once a cultivator reaches the Golden Core stage and seeks to break through to the Nascent Soul realm, simply comprehending the laws of heaven and earth is no longer enough,” Qin Hao explained. “One must forge their own Dao. Martial Uncle Mo Yuan walks the path of the Divine Sword.”

The Divine Sword. It meant nurturing the blade with one’s very soul and wielding it purely through Divine Sense. A single glance, a fleeting thought—that was all it took to slaughter an enemy. Taken to its absolute pinnacle, a practitioner could sever a man’s head from a thousand miles away.

Shocked yet deeply intrigued, Jiang Chen asked, “Will you also walk the path of the Divine Sword in the future, Senior Brother?”

A fleeting look of envy crossed Qin Hao’s eyes, but he ultimately shook his head. “No. I prefer direct confrontation, so I chose the Majestic Sword Dao. I use absolute, upright force to shatter the unorthodox, and absolute simplicity to dominate complexity. My sword is like the midday sun—it casts no shadows and takes no detours. I don’t care if my enemy has a thousand methods or ten thousand arcane arts. I will sever them with one strike, slay them with one strike, and annihilate them with one strike.”

Jiang Chen’s blood pumped a little faster at the sheer conviction in Qin Hao’s voice. Inwardly, however, his pragmatic mind chimed in. ‘I choose the Fission Sword Dao. If one explosive payload isn’t enough to kill them? Just fire another.’

Qin Hao turned to the courtyard and called out, “Martial Uncle, I’ve brought him.”

A second later, the heavy wooden doors creaked open on their own, revealing a winding bluestone path.

“Let’s go,” Qin Hao said, leading the way.

They navigated a lush garden blooming with exotic flora before stepping into an open clearing. Waiting for them was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his late forties.

He was dressed simply in a bluish-gray robe woven from shark-silk, with plain hemp shoes on his feet. His facial features were entirely unremarkable, resembling any ordinary mortal uncle you might pass on the street. His eyes lacked the wrinkles of age, marred only by an incredibly faint silver scar resting at the outer corner of his right eye. His long black hair, peppered with a few strands of silver, was held in place by a plain wooden hairpin. Yet, rather than making him look aged, the silver streaks only amplified his transcendent, ethereal aura.

Qin Hao immediately cupped his hands and bowed deeply. “Martial Uncle!”

Jiang Chen, lacking the seniority to use such a title, mirrored the respectful bow. “Greetings, Immortal Elder!”

“Thank you for your trouble, Martial Nephew Qin,” Mo Yuan said, his voice perfectly placid. “Please convey my regards to your Master.”

“I will,” Qin Hao replied.

Mo Yuan then shifted his gaze, his sharp eyes locking onto Jiang Chen. His pupils were bizarre. At first glance, they looked like ancient, stagnant wells, completely devoid of ripples. But the moment Jiang Chen made eye contact, a chilling sensation washed over him—the distinct, terrifying illusion of being completely seen through. It felt as though no secret could survive under that gaze.

Jiang Chen tensed, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t dare exhale too loudly, terrified that his portable space or his true cultivation had been exposed.

Mo Yuan frowned. “You…”

Jiang Chen’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Did he actually see through my secrets?’

Even Qin Hao looked taken aback by his Martial Uncle’s sudden intensity.

Mo Yuan narrowed his eyes, speaking with absolute certainty. “Have you engaged in a Union Ceremony with a mermaid?”

Jiang Chen nearly choked on his own saliva. His tense, defensive posture instantly crumbled into sheer embarrassment. “The Immortal Elder’s discerning eyes burn as bright as torches,” he coughed out.

Mo Yuan gave a slow nod. “I can smell the distinct aura of the mermaid race lingering on you.”

Jiang Chen was genuinely baffled. “That happened an entire month ago. Is the residual aura really still there?”

“It is a specialized technique unique to the mermaid race,” Mo Yuan explained. “They use it for tracking and locking onto a specific identity. Ordinary cultivators cannot detect it.”

Realization dawned on Jiang Chen, and he immediately pivoted to flattery. “And yet, you saw through it with but a single glance.”

A faint, almost imperceptible hint of pride touched Mo Yuan’s lips. “Merely the result of rich experience.”

Qin Hao coughed, his tone laced with dry amusement. “It seems Junior Brother Jiang and Martial Uncle share a common… interest.”

Mo Yuan waved a dismissive hand. “Enough. This boy can stay. Martial Nephew, you are dismissed.”

Qin Hao glanced back and forth between Jiang Chen and Mo Yuan, his expression unreadable. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he turned and departed.

The two remaining men stood in the clearing, staring at each other in profound, wide-eyed silence.

“Ahem.” Mo Yuan cleared his throat. “Jiang Chen, was it?”

Jiang Chen nodded quickly. “Yes.”

“Martial Nephew Qin already briefed me on your background yesterday,” Mo Yuan continued, his tone shifting back to business. “However, the spirit plant we are cultivating this time is exceptionally unique. It poses a considerable challenge.”

Jiang Chen cupped his hands, his pragmatic mindset taking over. “Let me evaluate it first. If it’s beyond my capabilities, you can simply replace me. No harm done.”

Mo Yuan nodded in approval at the practical response. “Very well. Follow me.”

He led Jiang Chen down another bluestone path, exiting the floral garden and stepping into the expansive backyard.

Looming before them was a massive, sheer stone wall. Its surface was carved with a dizzying array of complex, esoteric runes. And right in the dead center of this solid stone monolith, a single flower was growing.

The stem wasn’t green, but a pale, translucent white. The strangest part was the flower’s core—it had no pistil. Instead, a single, needle-point speck of brilliant gold hovered in its center. The petals were a dull, ashen stone-blue, as thin and brittle as sun-baked parchment. They were etched with fine, fragmented veins that perfectly mirrored the runic arrays carved into the surrounding stone wall.

At first glance, it was hard to tell if the flower was a living organism condensed from natural essence, or merely a physical extension of the stone itself.

Mo Yuan pointed at the anomaly. “I have no idea what this flower is, either. It was excavated from a secret realm, cut out and transported alongside the entire stone wall. I can only sense that it contains both Water and Wood attributes.”

Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes, studying the plant with his naked eye while simultaneously sweeping it with his Divine Sense.

The stone wall was massive, its runic matrix incredibly intricate. Bizarrely, the flower emitted absolutely no fragrance. He had never seen anything like this plant, nor did he recognize a single rune on the wall.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to rely on his own knowledge. He had the system, an absolute database capable of identifying any spirit plant in the world.

Sure enough, a holographic prompt materialized in his vision, rapidly populating with the relevant data!