Chapter Five: The Burly Man

In a typical marketplace, ten pounds of spirit rice cost one spirit stone. An acre of spirit field produces a thousand pounds annually, which requires a hundred spirit stones to purchase. Five acres yield five thousand pounds, demanding five hundred spirit stones. Such exorbitant prices mean that only family cultivators and sect disciples can afford to eat spirit rice daily.

A spirit farmer like He Song cannot even eat the rice he grows himself. Of course, the reason is that He Song serves under the Spirit Herb Pavilion and must surrender seventy percent of his harvest to the Immortal Market, unlike those who cultivate their own spirit fields. Establishing a personal spirit field is far beyond He Song’s means. First, he would need land rich in spiritual energy. Second, he would require power sufficient to fend off evil cultivators. Furthermore, spirit fields outside the Immortal Market are fraught with dangers; attempting to go it alone without adequate cultivation would almost certainly lead to a tragic end.

For these reasons, He Song chose to become a spirit farmer under the Spirit Herb Pavilion. Although the Immortal Market takes a heavy cut, the safety it affords is undeniable. It also guarantees He Song won't be bullied without cause in Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market. Now, simply by donning the spirit farmer’s attire, He Song is counted among the market’s own, with backing behind him.

After planting the spirit rice seeds, He Song exchanged his clothes for those of a spirit farmer. Glancing over the fields and finding nothing urgent, he made his way along the main road toward the heart of the Immortal Market.

Becoming a spirit farmer under the Spirit Herb Pavilion changed He Song’s status—from a humble first-stage Qi cultivator, a lone wanderer, to an official spirit farmer under the jurisdiction of Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market. The shift may seem minor, but its effects were immediate. Familiar faces now greeted him on his way home, and He Song responded in kind, just as his predecessor would have.

Upon reaching his door and preparing to enter, the neighbor’s door opened. A robust, fierce-eyed young cultivator stepped out.

At first, this man paid He Song no mind. But as his gaze fell on He Song’s attire, something familiar struck him, prompting him to look up.

“My name is Lin Cong. I haven’t seen you before, friend. Did you just move in recently?” he asked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he recognized the garb reserved for market insiders.

Such attire was not something just anyone could wear. In Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market, it was wise to keep a distance from those wearing it—not for any other reason than that, should trouble arise, the market’s people would surely side with their own. Even a minor incident could escalate into a matter of life and death. Thus, despite He Song’s modest cultivation, Lin Cong showed no hint of disdain.

“So you are Lin Cong. I am He Song. I’ve been living here for about a month, but I mostly keep to myself and rarely go out. I must have given you cause to laugh,” He Song replied, returning the greeting with a slight bow.

Lin Cong’s powerful frame and fierce aura, muscles knotted across his body, coupled with an oppressive spiritual pressure, made He Song feel as if a wave of killing intent swept over him, momentarily stealing his breath—a true brute.

“Judging by your attire, are you employed within the market?” Lin Cong’s demeanor softened as he saw He Song pause and respond.

“I joined the Spirit Herb Pavilion today as a spirit farmer,” He Song replied with a nod.

Spirit farmers under the Spirit Herb Pavilion were indeed considered market insiders; even cultivators in the market would not trouble them. However, compared to the Law Enforcement Team—who wield life-and-death power over wanderers—their status was rather low.

“Oh? Congratulations, friend. You are quite fortunate,” Lin Cong said, his eyes now tinged with envy.

Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market was small, but it was guarded by a Foundation Establishment cultivator dispatched from Azure Cliff Immortal City, which itself belonged to the great Golden Core sect, Earthroot Sect. The Foundation Establishment cultivator currently overseeing Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market was a disciple of Earthroot Sect. Thus, by joining the Spirit Herb Pavilion under the market’s jurisdiction, He Song could claim backing from a major sect.

Though in reality this support meant little, the name alone was enough to intimidate many. Auxiliary personnel of a great Golden Core sect—who would dare provoke such a person?

“You flatter me, friend. Becoming a spirit farmer was mere luck, nothing compared to you,” He Song replied, sensing Lin Cong’s envy and feeling assured about his decision to learn Spirit Rain and Spirit Arrow techniques and join the Spirit Herb Pavilion. His path was clearly better than remaining a wandering cultivator.

Lin Cong was not someone to be trifled with, yet he looked at He Song with envy upon hearing of his new status. Ordinary wanderers would have no way to become spirit farmers at all. The luck of He Song’s predecessor seemed indeed remarkable.

“Ah, you jest. As a wanderer, I can only team up with others to hunt spirit beasts, then sell their corpses for spirit stones. Compared to your work around the market, my trade is far more dangerous,” Lin Cong said, shaking his head. The envy faded from his eyes as he glanced at the sky, then continued, “I have business to attend to, so I’ll visit another time. Farewell for now.”

With a slight bow, Lin Cong didn’t wait for He Song’s response—he shot off like a leopard.

Watching Lin Cong’s swift departure, He Song felt a surge of astonishment. Lin Cong was indeed a man who lived on the edge. No doubt he earned many spirit stones hunting beasts, but most were surely spent on advancing his cultivation. Otherwise, his presence would not be so formidable—his strength clearly surpassed most cultivators.

Yet, no matter how much Lin Cong earned, He Song felt no temptation. Lin Cong was right: his trade was extremely risky. Facing high-level spirit beasts was manageable, as long as one could outrun their companions. The real danger was a teammate turning greedy or a powerful cultivator targeting them for treasure.

When that happened, no matter how many spirit stones one had amassed, they would all become someone else’s spoils.