Chapter 484: Ji Mingxuan’s Explanation
Chapter 484: Ji Mingxuan’s Explanation!
With Jiang Chen stepping in, the dispute was swiftly quelled. Rather than escalating, the conflict fizzled out entirely as the Linghe Association capitulated under the collective pressure of the surrounding onlookers.
From now on, any spirit plants and medicinal herbs they sold had to strictly match the pricing set by the Green Alliance.
Niu Bochang gestured toward the Harvest Alliance’s trading pavilion. “Spirit Envoy Jiang, it is a rare honor for you to visit. Why not come inside and rest for a moment?”
Sensing that the man harbored an ulterior motive, Jiang Chen gave a faint nod. “Very well.”
He then instructed Miao Huayu and the others to reorganize their stalls.
Meanwhile, he followed behind Niu Bochang, crossing the threshold into the Harvest Alliance’s grand trading pavilion.
Perhaps due to the sprawling expanse of the Flower Sea, the interior of this pavilion was several times more cavernous than their previous outpost in Red Leaf Valley.
Despite the remote location, the flow of cultivators had not dwindled in the slightest; it was even more bustling than before.
Sweeping his gaze across the hall, he saw throngs of cultivators bartering for spirit plants, alongside the prominently displayed transaction prices for the day’s harvest.Jiang Chen’s eyes lingered on the listings for Spirit Rice. Compared to a few years prior, the most glaring change for first-grade and second-grade grains was their plummeting cost.
Even for Top Grade yields, the required ratio of Spirit Stones had noticeably decreased, settling back to a more balanced, natural equilibrium.
“Isn’t that Spirit Envoy Jiang?”
“He rarely shows his face at the trading pavilion!”
“To appear so suddenly today… could something have happened?”
There was not a single spirit farmer within the Spirit Farm who did not recognize Jiang Chen’s face.
Thus, the moment he crossed the threshold, they practically climbed over one another to offer respectful greetings, their hearts burning with profound curiosity.
Whispers spread like wildfire, with many quietly speculating whether some grand upheaval was about to sweep through the Spirit Farm.
Jiang Chen did not squander much time in the main hall, swiftly following Niu Bochang up the spiraling staircase.
The Harvest Alliance’s current trading pavilion was neatly segregated into three distinct floors.
The ground floor catered to ordinary traders.
The second floor was reserved for esteemed, high-tier guests.
The third floor remained strictly cordoned off for internal members.
Although Jiang Chen qualified as an esteemed guest, his supreme status as a Spirit Nurturing Envoy granted him unfettered access straight to the third-floor private lounge.
As he personally poured a steaming cup of spirit tea, Niu Bochang grumbled, “Thank the heavens you arrived, otherwise those fools from the Linghe Association would have harassed me into an early grave.”
Jiang Chen measured the man with a cool glance and said flatly, “Surely it isn’t that dire.”
Niu Bochang smiled bitterly, his voice steeped in helplessness. “You are unaware. Ever since they claimed a portion of the stalls, we haven’t enjoyed a single day of peace.
Incidents like the spectacle today have occurred more than once.”
Jiang Chen arched a brow, his words cutting and blunt. “The Harvest Alliance enjoys the backing of the Immortal Sect, and you possess absolute authority over these stalls. If you cannot even suppress such a trivial disturbance, isn’t that a bit… incompetent?”
Niu Bochang clearly had not expected such a merciless reprimand that offered zero face. Stripped of his usual silver tongue, he could only stand there with an awkward, stiff smile.
Jiang Chen tapped the table, offering a chilling reminder. “Do not forget your place. I am the Spirit Nurturing Envoy of the Spirit Farm. My sole jurisdiction is the prosperity of the spirit plants.”
The unspoken warning hung heavy in the air: if a farce like today’s ever repeated itself, it would cement the Harvest Alliance’s utter uselessness.
If they lacked the means to discipline a handful of unruly spirit farmers, what right did they have to claim dominion as the paramount faction within the Spirit Farm?
Had it been The Zhao Clan or The Wang Clan, these nameless mongrels from the Linghe Association would have been chased out like beaten dogs long ago.
To put it plainly, this festering conflict had only boiled over to this degree because the Harvest Alliance had utterly failed to enforce discipline.
Or, to be even more direct-someone in power was deliberately turning a blind eye.
Since the situation had not yet shattered their superficial harmony, Jiang Chen had elected to phrase his rebuke with a shred of restraint.
Niu Bochang was no fool; his mind was as sharp as a concealed needle. Instantly catching the lethal implication hidden in those words, he hastily bowed his head and swore, “Please rest assured, there will absolutely not be a next time.”
Jiang Chen gave a faint nod. “Now that sounds like the Harvest Alliance I am familiar with.”
Niu Bochang secretly exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, murmuring in his heart, None of the previous Spirit Nurturing Envoys possessed such a terrifyingly oppressive aura.
Taking a slow, measured sip of the scalding tea, Jiang Chen lifted his chin. “You invited me up to this secluded chamber. It cannot simply be for idle chatter, can it?”
Niu Bochang instantly plastered on a sycophantic smile. “What can I say? Your eyes truly shine like torches, missing no detail!”
Jiang Chen’s expression remained undisturbed, entirely unsurprised. “What is the true matter?”
Niu Bochang hurriedly lowered his voice. “It is like this. Currently, the clans and factions tangled within the Spirit Farm are far too numerous and fractured.
The will of the Immortal Masters above is clear: is it possible to forcibly unify them?”
While the Harvest Alliance ostensibly stood as the ruling voice of the Spirit Farm, the harsh truth was that they were merely a localized power propped up by official sect backing.
Meanwhile, the landscape was choked with sprawling aristocratic clans, minor vassal families, and a chaotic web of mid-to-low tier alliances.
That was to say nothing of the sheer, suffocating volume of rogue cultivators wandering the fields.
When compared to the tightly bound alchemists of the Earth Fire District or the disciplined talisman masters of the Rain Pavilion, the Spirit Farm was nothing more than a bowl of loose sand.
The supreme figures within the sect harbored the ambition to scourge and purify this mess, yet their edicts met unyielding friction at every level, rendering true enforcement nearly impossible.
In such a turbulent climate, an undisputed figurehead was desperately required to step forward and serve as their vanguard.
Jiang Chen slowly set his teacup against the wooden table, a razor-thin, mocking smile touching his lips. “You wish for me to stick my neck out?”
Niu Bochang blinked earnestly. “With your supreme prestige and immense influence across the Spirit Farm, coupled with the absolute backing of our Harvest Alliance… if we can just wrangle the support of The Zhao Clan and The Wang Clan, this monumental task is well within reach.”
Jiang Chen let out a cold sneer. “Isn’t that simply asking me to paint a target on my back and court the hatred of the masses?”
Viewing the board from the vantage point of the sect elders, the rot plaguing the Spirit Farm was undeniably entrenched deep into its very foundations.
Although the lion’s share of spirit plants flowed into the coffers of the Harvest Alliance, the various ancient clans and rogue factions all fiercely guarded their own subterranean mercantile channels.
In essence: you peddle your harvest, and I will peddle mine.
This chaotic fracturing meant the quality of resources bleeding out from the Spirit Farm fluctuated wildly-ranging from heavenly treasures to absolute dregs.
Niu Bochang leaned in, his expression turning solemn. “Rest assured, the upper echelons have passed down an ironclad vow. As long as you step forward, even if the final result falls short of absolute perfection, you shall be elevated to the rank of Manager within the Harvest Alliance.
Furthermore, you will be utterly exempt from dealing with mundane, day-to-day trivialities.”
Such an offer was a demonic temptation, carrying a weight no less magnificent than his current mantle as Spirit Nurturing Envoy.
It must be understood that a Spirit Nurturing Envoy bore the heavy burden of patrolling the infinite acreage of the Spirit Farm, wielding martial oversight over every harvest.
To sit as a Manager of the Harvest Alliance, however, was akin to absorbing a ceaseless river of wealth while seated upon a meditation mat, unbothered by worldly toils.
The fatal flaw in this grand design was obvious: the moment Jiang Chen unsheathed his sword to enforce this edict, his sterling reputation would violently fracture.
He would transform from a revered grandmaster, universally respected or at least tolerated by the common cultivators.
To a tyrant who birthed legions of bitter enemies in the shadows, inevitably sparking a bloody storm of ceaseless conflict and strife.
While the promised harvest was boundlessly rich, the karmic backlash was equally terrifying to behold.
For any mortal cultivator, such a crossroad would induce agonizing hesitation and sleepless nights. Yet for Jiang Chen, this warranted not a single breath of contemplation. He instantly replied, “My apologies.”
What an absolute jest.
He suffered no drought of cultivation resources, nor did his grand status require further elevation.
Why in the heavens would he undertake such a thankless trial, willingly plunging his hands into a viper’s nest only to reap the eternal enmity of thousands?
Perhaps some heaven-defying paragon would descend in the future to forcibly forge this chaotic realm into iron, but that paragon would certainly not be him.
Niu Bochang sat frozen in absolute disbelief, his voice tight with shock. “Why?”
Jiang Chen rose to his feet, a half-smile ghosting across his lips. “My answer remains the same as before. I am a Spirit Nurturing Envoy. My only master is the prosperity of the spirit plants.”
Without a backward glance, he strode toward the exit, far too indolent to squander another breath in this chamber.
Had Su Qing been present to pour the tea, he might have indulged in a few more moments of idle banter, but interacting with this man held not a shred of appeal.
Staring at Jiang Chen’s fading silhouette, Niu Bochang’s brows knitted into a profound scowl. Even if it means drawing the ire of a rabble of lowly spirit farmers, it would secure the boundless favor of the Immortal Masters.
Any other cultivator would eagerly shatter their own skull for the chance to climb higher, yet this man actually dares to spit on the heavens’ favor?!
…
…
Emerging from the shadow of the Harvest Alliance’s pavilion, Jiang Chen swept his spiritual sense over the grounds, only to find that the Linghe Association cultivators, previously spearheaded by Ji Mingxuan, had entirely vanished.
It appeared they had entirely forsaken the day’s market, abandoning their harvest of spirit plants and medicinal herbs, instantly leaving a full third of the stalls desolate and empty.
This abrupt exodus sent Miao Huayu and the others into rapturous joy. They scrambled over each other, rushing to hand over their Spirit Stones to claim the vacant territory.
Observing their zeal, Jiang Chen offered no reprimand. He simply issued a stern warning for the Green Alliance to remain vigilant before summoning the Shattered Moon Flowing Frost, transforming into a streak of icy light as he soared toward the inner sanctum of the Spirit Farm.
The very instant his boots touched the earth of the core zone, he sought out Elder Mu, faithfully reciting Niu Bochang’s venomous proposal word for word.
Elder Mu’s ancient face betrayed barely a ripple of emotion. He spoke in a tone as flat as still water: “This ambition was attempted many years ago. More than once, in fact. Yet, it has never borne fruit.”
Jiang Chen immediately affirmed, “Regardless of the intent, I refuse to be the blade they wield in the spotlight.”
Elder Mu’s lips curved into a wizened smile. “It was profoundly wise of you to decline. Once your boots sink into that mire, the karmic swamp will never release you.”
Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes with piercing curiosity. “Manager, did your divine sense foresee this shifting wind?”
Elder Mu maintained his serene smile. “Your Master has sealed the gates for Secluded Cultivation. Naturally, the shadows are growing restless in his absence.”
A cold light flashed in Jiang Chen’s eyes, confirming his dark suspicions. “Just as I surmised.”
Elder Mu offered a solemn warning. “Until your Master shatters the gates of his seclusion, the undercurrents will continuously seek to drag you down. I can only hope your Dao Heart remains unyielding.”
Jiang Chen dipped his head in a faint nod. “I, too, pray my blade remains steadfast.”
The two men exchanged pleasantries for the time it took to burn half an incense stick.
Observing the sky darkening into a deep, bruised purple, Jiang Chen finally offered his farewells and turned to depart.
Yet, entirely beyond his expectations, before he even breached the perimeter of his valley, he sensed a solitary figure standing silently before his gates.
It was none other than Ji Mingxuan.
Seeing this rival suddenly grace his doorstep, utterly unaccompanied, Jiang Chen’s spiritual aura flared with guarded vigilance. “What business brings you here?”
Ji Mingxuan swept his gaze across the shadowed perimeter, his posture fraught with extreme paranoia. A complex, bitter emotion marred his features. “Let us converse inside. The winds out here… carry too many ears.”
Jiang Chen offered a skeptical sneer. “Oh?”
Channeling his spiritual sense, he parted the defensive Formation, creating a narrow corridor to lead the uninvited guest into the valley.
They walked in heavy silence, stopping only when they crossed the threshold of the grand reception hall.
Jiang Chen waved a hand, gesturing for the man to take a seat, his tone laced with glacial impatience. “Speak. What exactly do you seek?”
Ji Mingxuan drew a deep, ragged breath, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “The truth is… it was never my genuine desire to cross blades with you.”
Jiang Chen masked his thoughts, feigning ignorance. “Enlighten me.”
Ji Mingxuan leaned forward. “Not long after our faction assimilated into the Spirit Farm, we were violently intercepted by an entity claiming the mantle of an Elder from an Immortal Peak, and then…”
The treacherous snare had been laid at the very dawn of their arrival within the Spirit Farm.
In the beginning, Ji Mingxuan and his brethren sought only a peaceful integration, harboring no grand, treasonous ambitions.
But fate shifted when an Elder from the Spirit Grain Sect-one who had managed to claw their way into an Immortal Peak-descended upon them. Beside him stood a shrouded figure claiming supreme authority as an Immortal Peak Elder, forcefully summoning every displaced cultivator who had been absorbed into the Spirit Farm.
The Linghe Association was forged in the fires of that very clandestine gathering, sealed with promises of heaven-defying bounties.
Vast troves of cultivation resources were practically thrown at their feet.
They were guaranteed the exact Spirit Weapons, esoteric talismans, and transcendent Spirit Pills required to violently shatter their cultivation bottlenecks.
In exchange for this torrential downpour of wealth, Ji Mingxuan and his subordinates were shackled with a single, unyielding mandate: utterly annihilate Jiang Chen’s standing and drag him down from the throne of Spirit Nurturing Envoy.
This was the true genesis behind their sudden, fanatical crusade to suppress him at every conceivable turn.
Jiang Chen fell into a profound, suffocating silence after absorbing this revelation. Finally, his voice broke the stillness. “So, this venomous web was spun years ago.”
Ji Mingxuan offered a smile dripping with bitter irony. “Your Dao Heart is too utterly devoid of worldly vanity. You remained practically invisible, depriving us of any mortal weakness to exploit. We exhausted countless machinations over the years, and only this recent mercantile assault yielded even a fraction of success.
Yet, in the end, it still ended in total ruin…”
Jiang Chen’s eyes turned sharp as unsheathed swords as he pressed the fatal question. “Do you possess the name of the Immortal Peak and the identity of this so-called Elder?”
Ji Mingxuan slowly shook his head. “They were shrouded in pitch-black robes and oppressive hoods. Their true visage was shielded from all mortal sight.”
Within the silent abyss of his mind, Jiang Chen’s thoughts raced. It is almost certainly an Elder descending from Green Wood Peak. The power required points to someone as supreme as a Vice Peak Master.
Observing that the Peak Master had vacated his seat and my Master had sealed the gates for Secluded Cultivation, these lurking demons seek to seize this exact window to unleash chaos!