Chapter 500: Utterly Unremarkable
Chapter 500: Utterly Unremarkable!
At that moment, a Shattered Moon Flowing Frost vessel tore across the horizon, coming to a smooth, hovering halt directly above the gathered delegation.
The crowd tilted their heads upward, watching a man of painfully average build drop from the deck to the ground.
He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his features, his aura, or his presence.
Then, the man spoke in a clear voice. “Fellow Daoists, I am the only Spirit Nurturing Envoy in the heart of the Spirit Farm, and the sixth disciple under the Green Wood Peak Master, Jiang Chen!”
“This name… it rings absolutely no bells!”
“I only know of the first disciple, Bei Qingtang.”
“I’ve only heard rumors of Qin Hao or Chen Tian…”
To heavyweights like Zhao Chengdao, Crimson Fire, and Qing Xuan, the name ‘Jiang Chen’ was completely unheard of.
Firstly, the geographical spans between the major Cultivation Sects were immense, often requiring cross-domain travel. Gossip rarely survived the journey unless it was universally significant.Secondly, they only memorized the names of absolute monsters.
Qin Hao was the Cloud Sea Sect’s premier Golden Core cultivator, possessing a terrifyingly lethal talent for the sword path.
Chen Tian was a recognized genius boasting a mutated tri-elemental Spirit Root, an Earth-Grade Golden Core, and an Awakened divine ability.
Bei Qingtang was not only Peak Lord Mu Ji’s eldest disciple, but a direct bloodline member of the formidable Luohe Bei Clan.
Aside from anomalies of that caliber, a nobody with zero public reputation was effectively invisible.
Jiang Chen had some fame, prestige, status, and background within the Spirit Farm and Green Wood Peak, but in the wider Cloud Sea Sect he was only passable, let alone beyond the sect.
Still, since he was the only Spirit Nurturing Envoy of the Spirit Farm and Mu Ji’s sixth disciple, his talent could not be simple. Otherwise, he would never have gained such status and backing.
“Dragon Tiger Immortal Sect, Zhao Chengdao!”
“Invite Moon Immortal Sect, Crimson Fire!”
“I am…”
The delegation proceeded with formal introductions, identifying their sects and rank.
Once the introductions and backgrounds were confirmed, Jiang Chen said in a clear voice, “Fellow Daoists, I will lead you through the heart of the Spirit Farm today. If you have any questions, please ask. I will answer what I know.”
A crafty glint flashed through Qian Duoduo’s eyes. “Then do you know how many Spirit Farmers there are in the heart of the Spirit Farm?”
Jiang Chen offered a polite, practiced smile. “Six hundred and eighty-three at the Qi Condensation stage. Three hundred and thirty-two at the Foundation Establishment stage.”
Qian Duoduo was surprised, then pressed further. “Then how many mu of spirit fields are there?”
Jiang Chen smiled faintly. “As of just now, there are twelve thousand, three hundred and forty-seven mu of second-grade spirit fields.”
Seeing the merchant fail to stump the guide, a ripple of genuine astonishment spread through the crowd.
This showed that the man before them truly understood the entire Spirit Farm in great detail.
Qian Duoduo clamped his mouth shut, thoroughly defeated.
Crimson Fire, however, tilted her head, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Earlier, when you descended… the design of your flying artifact struck me as exceedingly familiar.”
Jiang Chen blinked, playing innocent. “Ah, this? Fairy Beiyun gifted it to me.”
“Mu Beiyun?!”
The name detonated like a thunderclap among the crowd.
Mu Beiyun was renowned as a peerless beauty, possessing an aura akin to a true immortal descended to the mortal coil.
Her prestige was monolithic. She was relentlessly pursued by elite personal disciples and even a few ancient, thousand-year-old monsters attempting to buy her favor.
The revelation that she had casually gifted her personal flying artifact to a man whose face belonged in a background crowd-a mere Cultivation Envoy-was completely absurd.
Rampant speculation instantly ignited regarding the exact nature of their relationship.
An ordinary relationship certainly would not warrant such a precious gift.
If the relationship was intimate, the sheer psychological blow to her legions of suitors would be catastrophic.
After all, that was Fairy Beiyun!
Jiang Chen had zero intention of letting them dwell on his social life. He clapped his hands. “If everyone would follow me, our first stop will be the Core Management Office.”
Crimson Fire and the others swallowed their questions and fell into line.
And so, they spent the entire day flying from place to place, looking over one site after another.
It was only when the procession skirted the boundaries of Red Leaf Valley that their velocity dropped.
The delegation stared at the vibrant crimson maples and the meticulously curated landscape, entirely captivated by the aesthetic.
Zhao Chengdao asked curiously, “This place seems to be only scenery, not a spirit field. Why is it covered by a Formation?”
Qian Duoduo, Crimson Fire, and the others were all curious as well.
Jiang Chen offered a dismissive shrug. “Because that is my private residence.”
The casual admission hit the crowd like a physical blow, silencing them instantly.
Even Qing Xuan, the perpetually detached disciple of the reclusive Dao Sect, experienced a visible twitch in his facial muscles.
For a long moment, the delegation stared at Jiang Chen as if he had just sprouted a second head.
What exactly were they looking at?
His cultivation was bottlenecked at late Foundation Establishment.
His official job title was Cultivation Envoy.
He had the political backing of the Verdant Wood Peak Lord.
He carried a priceless artifact gifted by Fairy Beiyun.
And he resided in an exclusive, heavily shielded private estate while the rest of the sect lived in standard quarters.
A single, unified thought echoed through the minds of every cultivator present: Who the hell is this guy?
…
Having concluded a grueling day of diplomatic wrangling, Jiang Chen finally stepped through the wards of Red Leaf Valley.
Ruo Qunshuang had already prepared the evening meal. The spread consisted of simple, domestic dishes, but the portions were generous and the aroma rich.
Seeing his weariness, she quickly poured him a cup of warm Golden Wine, then stepped behind his chair and gently kneaded his shoulders.
Jiang Chen reached up, gently squeezing her delicate hand. “I anticipated a large delegation, but the sheer volume caught me off guard. There were several Golden Core experts in the mix.”
Ruo Qunshuang paused her massage, surprised. “Golden Cores?”
“Most of them have Wood Spirit Roots. They want to cooperate with us and maintain long-term exchanges of resources.”
“As for the Invite Moon Immortal Sect, they sent someone with a Fire Spirit Root. Judging by her temperament, she is likely an alchemist of considerable skill.”
Then there was a disciple from a reclusive orthodox Dao Sect. His spiritual signature was utterly masked. I couldn’t read his root, but I can guarantee it isn’t Wood.”
Ruo Qunshuang frowned, a trace of concern in her voice. “Does this influx mean Brother Qing will be trapped in negotiations for the foreseeable future?”
Jiang Chen lifted the wine cup and took a small sip, letting the cool flavor slowly spread across his tongue before saying, “That is normal. After all, the Thousand Sects Dharma Assembly only happens once every three hundred and thirty-three years.”
Ruo Qunshuang tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should summon Miao Huayu and the others. If they handle some of these matters…”
Before she could finish formulating her plan, the valley’s perimeter wards chimed, carrying a clear, projected voice. “Qingyun Sect, Qing Xuan. Requesting an audience!”
Jiang Chen and Ruo Qunshuang locked eyes, both registering a spike of genuine surprise.
However, the man was a recognized diplomatic guest.
Jiang Chen immediately rose from his chair, striding toward the valley entrance.
Ruo Qunshuang seamlessly pivoted toward the kitchen to prepare an additional set of bowls and chopsticks.
Arriving at the perimeter, Jiang Chen formally cupped his hands. “Fellow Daoist Qing!”
Qing Xuan offered a slight, apologetic bow. “Forgive the late intrusion.”
Jiang Chen gave him a brief look. “Please come in. We can speak inside.”
With a flick of his wrist, Jiang Chen temporarily bypassed the restrictive Formation wards.
Qing Xuan stepped through the threshold, his eyes sweeping the interior of the valley.
Though cloaked in night, the paved pathways and secluded alcoves were illuminated by a soft, ambient glow.
The aesthetic was layered with the quiet murmur of a flowing stream.
The faint, rhythmic chirping of insects and the low croak of frogs completed the auditory tapestry.
The atmosphere was profoundly tranquil, possessing an intoxicating, grounded aesthetic.
Jiang Chen led the guest into the main reception hall, gesturing toward a heavy wooden chair. He methodically brewed a pot of high-grade spirit tea, pouring a cup before finally asking, “To visit at this hour… what requires such urgency?”
Qing Xuan possessed zero inclination for small talk. “Fellow Daoist Jiang, to hold the monopoly as the sole Cultivation Envoy at your age, and to secure the position of the sixth disciple… logic dictates your innate talent for agricultural cultivation must be exceptionally high.”
Jiang Chen offered a noncommittal response. “I manage.”
In response, Qing Xuan withdrew a seemingly ordinary folding fan. The instant he snapped it open, the painted landscape upon the silk came alive. It was a vivid, moving diorama of mountains and rivers. The faint sound of birdsong, howling wind, and rushing water emanated from the silk, proving the environment within was fully simulated and biologically active.
Jiang Chen’s heart tightened. A high-tier spatial Magical Artifact, functioning similarly to a Square Inch Ring?
Without breaking eye contact, Qing Xuan reached his free hand directly into the painted surface. His arm vanished into an ink-black bamboo grove depicted on the silk. When he retracted his hand, he pulled a physical stalk of pitch-black bamboo into the real world.
Qing Xuan stared at the stalk, his brow knotting in deep frustration. “It… is sick.”