Chapter 1

"Sigh, when a man's broke, his dick just sits there idle; when a woman's broke, her cunt suffers..."

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

In the Southern Wilds Immortal Realm, on the outskirts of Qingyang Market, the shantytown.

A wooden door opened, and a plain-looking young man stepped out.

Qin Ming yawned, rubbed his bloodshot eyes listlessly, and slung his spirit hoe over his shoulder, preparing to head out to work.

Before leaving, he glanced back at his neighbor's courtyard, fury rising in his chest.

"What the hell are you screaming about at three in the morning? Do you have any sense of public decency?"

His neighbor was a young female cultivator, fairly attractive, who regularly brought male cultivators home to spend the night, engaging in lewd acts.

Last night, she had moaned and screamed the entire night through.

'Once I have enough spirit stones, even if I can't afford a new house, I'll definitely set up a soundproofing array first!'

Qin Ming gritted his teeth, silently vowing— the sound insulation in these houses was truly abysmal.

Last night, while he was meditating and practicing, the noise from next door had stirred his thoughts wildly, sent his blood rushing, and nearly shaken his Dao heart.

It had been far too close!

There was nothing he could do—he'd had to grit his teeth and endure an entire sleepless night, reciting the Pure Heart Sutra a thousand times in time with the rhythm of the creaking bed, barely managing to calm his mind...

The thought of the endless work waiting for him in the spirit paddy fields today made his mood shatter completely.

"I've been in this Immortal Cultivation World for nearly five years—when will this hell ever end?"

"With this environment, what the hell kind of Immortal am I even trying to become?"

"I can't even get a decent night's sleep!"

"Sigh, having no divine cheat system is just unbearable..."

Before coming to this world, in Qin Ming's understanding,

Immortal cultivation should mean traveling to the Northern Seas by morning and the Western Mountains by evening, flying through the skies, vanishing underground, with sword qi stretching nine thousand li.

But in reality?

Though cultivation sounds lofty, what kind of life do low-tier cultivators even have?

Every day, they struggle desperately just to survive, under crushing pressure.

'If it weren't for the fact that the original owner of this body was forcibly conscripted by Lingyu Sect from a cultivation clan and ordered here to carry out reclamation duties, required to serve a full sixty-year term of corvée labor—'

'I'd rather just find some mortal village to retire in; at least I'd get a few decades of decent life.'

Over these years, Qin Ming had long seen through the reality—he finally understood he was, after all, just an ordinary person.

After all,

With his four-element pseudo-spiritual root, without some extraordinary opportunity, even if he cultivated till death, he'd never reach Foundation Establishment.

Wasting over a decade now...

His cultivation was still stuck at Qi Condensation Stage Two, effectively imprisoned—his path to Immortality was essentially hopeless.

His clan's decision to abandon him and trade him to the sect for resources was understandable.

Fortunately, his clan had quietly arranged things ahead of time, so he didn't have to be sent to the front lines to fight beasts.

Qin Ming had rented three mu of spirit paddy fields in the cleared outer zone, becoming a spirit farmer.

And today was the day of the spirit rice harvest.

But,

Qin Ming's face showed no trace of harvest joy.

Instead, he felt uneasy inside.

A bountiful harvest also meant the authorities would send people to collect the spirit rice tax.

"Oh, Xiao Qin, up so early? Looks like this season's spirit rice is doing well!"

As Qin Ming was pondering on his way to the spirit fields, an old cultivator resembling a peasant walked out of the alley beside him, smiling and greeting him.

The man's cultivation aura was considerably higher than his—Qi Condensation Stage Four.

"Morning, Cai Laojiu."

Qin Ming couldn't help but smile slightly upon seeing him.

He sighed next.

"Ah, don't even mention it—you know I'm only Qi Condensation Stage Two, and I've barely mastered the Basic Level of the Spirit Rain Technique; I can barely cast it a few times a month."

His name was Cai Jiuwu; nearby cultivators called him Cai Laojiu, a longtime resident of this shantytown.

Qin Ming didn't know his exact background, only that he'd been tilling this land for over a decade.

Cai Laojiu had pitch-black skin, a face full of wrinkles, a scruffy beard, and smoked a tobacco pipe; his pants were rolled up, he was unkempt, and carried a spirit hoe and spirit sickle slung over his shoulder.

He looked more like a beggar than a cultivator.

Yet based on Qin Ming's observations, he knew the man was only in his early forties...

"By the way, Cai Laojiu, with your Qi Condensation Stage Four and Intermediate Spirit Rain Technique, your harvest this year must be quite good, right?"

Qin Ming's tone carried a hint of envy.

The Spirit Rain Technique was a spirit cultivation spell handed down by the sect to these spirit farmers—by dispersing spirit energy from spirit crystals, spirit stones, or spirit veins into the air, it could forcibly summon spirit rain.

Spirit grains, spirit rice, spirit fruits, and spirit herbs nourished by this rain were protected from pests and rodents, and their yields were greatly enhanced.

Qin Ming hadn't expected that farming could be so tightly tied to cultivation level.

When he'd practiced the Spirit Rain Technique for over half a year and found that, when cast, the rain covered only two zhang, and the spirit energy lasted less than half a stick of incense—

He'd wanted to die...

Someone's piss had more volume than that.

"Hehe, it's passable, just barely. After we finish harvesting the spirit rice today and pay the taxes, how about we head to the Juxuan Pavilion in the market town for a drink to relax?" Cai Laojiu smacked his lips, giving a vague answer with a shrewd look on his face.

"Forget it; I won't go to that kind of money-pit," Qin Ming said, shaking his head.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go; the main issue was that his pockets were empty...

Cai Laojiu clicked his tongue.

"I say, you kid are truly no fun; there's a long life ahead of us, so enjoying ourselves occasionally doesn't hurt..."

"As the saying goes, 'If there's wine today, get drunk today.' For people like us, why bother with all that nonsense about seeking immortality and proving the Dao? It's better to wake early from the great dream and be carefree."

"Fine then, are you treating?"

"Go, go, go! Scram! Get lost!"

Not long after.

A massive mountain range shrouded in mist and clouds came into view; the mountains were vast and verdant, with waterfalls plunging straight down between the peaks, feeding into dragon pools, while misty waves stretched far and wide, presenting a scene like an ink-wash painting.

On the half-way slopes that had been reclaimed, hundreds of mu of spirit fields were arranged in terraces, divided in an orderly fashion.

With the spiritual energy provided by a first-grade spirit vein here, planting some low-grade spirit grains and plants was more than sufficient.

Within the spirit fields, golden spirit ears glowed with brilliant splendor, swaying in the wind, while the unique fragrance of spirit rice wafted everywhere, hitting them in the face.

This attracted birds flying in the nearby air to come forage.

"Clang!"

Before the flock of birds could land, a sudden explosive sound rang out.

A simple straw-man puppet set up in the spirit fields shook the spirit gong in its hand, emitting bursts of piercing sound waves in all directions, startling the bird flock into scattering in flight.

Qin Ming and the other person followed the mountain path to their respective spirit fields and began to busy themselves.

Inside the spirit field.

Qin Ming stared eagerly at one of his plots, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, feeling somewhat dispirited.

In this particular spirit field, about half a mu of spirit rice was still green and oily, looking completely different from the surrounding mature golden spirit rice.

If others didn't know better, they might think he had planted garlic sprouts here...

As for the reason for this scene, he actually knew very well himself.

It was because his proficiency with the Spirit Rain Technique was insufficient, its level too low, and he had cast it too few times, resulting in uneven distribution of the rainfall.

"It looks like this season's spirit rice yield will be reduced; I don't know if I'll be able to cover the tax payment this time," Qin Ming worried in his heart. Shaking his head, Qin Ming began to harvest the spirit ears.

The spirit sickle swept beneath the grain stalks, causing clumps of spirit rice to fall, which he skillfully tied into bundles.

The spirit rice in this area yielded three harvests a year; as long as the roots were left intact, it would grow back in a few months, allowing for another harvest.

It was much like cutting chives.

The sun slanted westward.

After cutting the spirit rice, threshing the spirit grain, and packing it into sacks.

The magic power within Qin Ming's body was completely drained, leaving him exhausted as a dog.

Just as he finished wiping his sweat, he heard the sound of a magical artifact breaking through the air coming from the distance.

Qin Ming quickly looked up, only to see a Green Leaf Dharma Boat trace a green glow in the mid-air before slowly descending.

One person disembarked from it.

The other party was a middle-aged male cultivator with an obese figure, dressed in the blue-and-white outer sect robes of the Spirit Feather Sect; protruding a large belly and looking imposing, he strode over to stand before him.

This fat man was named Du Haifu, the foreman overseeing this area of spirit fields.

Managing the spirit fields and spirit farmers on this entire mountain, he was, for people like Qin Ming, a veritable local emperor.

"Hehehe, Little Qin certainly works with quick hands! You've finished harvesting all the spirit rice so fast."

Du Haifu pushed open the spirit rice sacks in front of Qin Ming, reached out to pinch a few grains of spirit rice, first bringing them under his nose to smell.

He casually tossed the spirit rice into his mouth and chewed slowly, then revealed a satisfied, smiling expression.

"Hmm, the quality is actually quite good; it seems you didn't put in little effort."

Du Haifu patted the storage bag at his waist, took out a large measuring vessel magical artifact for weighing, and began to weigh the grain.

"Harvested two dan and eighty jin of spirit rice; seventy percent must be paid as tax, which amounts to one hundred and ninety-six jin..."

"Eh? That's not right?"

"Why is there fifty jin less spirit rice collected compared to the previous season?" The smile on Du Haifu's face vanished instantly.

After taking out a booklet to verify the figures, his expression turned cold, and he shifted his gaze toward Qin Ming.

Hearing this, Qin Ming's heart immediately tensed.

He pulled a small brocade pouch from his bosom and hurriedly handed it over to the other party.

Then, putting on a smiling face, he apologized with a grin: "Senior Du, I'm truly sorry; there was a small problem in the spirit field. For the missing half-sack of spirit rice, please accept these spirit stones as compensation; please bear with me a little."

Although Qin Ming felt the pain in his heart, he had no choice but to do this; inside was most of his family wealth.

In fact, the Spirit Feather Sect only collected a fifty percent spirit rice tax, but one couldn't ignore the clerks below them, and beneath the clerks were the foremen managing the spirit farmers...

In this way, layer upon layer of exploitation meant that what finally ended up in one's own hands was pitifully little.

That small bag of spirit stones would most likely end up in Du Haifu's private coffers.

Du Haifu took the brocade pouch and weighed it in his hand; he already knew the score, and his attitude softened considerably.

However, he still warned Qin Ming: "Only this once; there will be no next time!"

Having said this, he raised his hand and waved forward, and the several large sacks of spirit rice before him were swept into his storage bag.

Qin Ming stared at the storage bag at Du Haifu's waist, as well as the Green Leaf Flying Boat magical artifact from earlier, feeling truly envious.

He simply couldn't afford things like that...

"Do you know how much spirit rice Cai Laojiu paid in taxes this season?" Du Haifu suddenly asked him a question with deep implication.

Then he raised two fingers and waved them in front of him.

"It's more than double yours!"

"You kid, if you go on like this, it won't do."

"Since you still understand a bit of propriety, I can offer you some advice on one matter."

"I just received news; when the next tax collection occurs, the Duty Elders within the sect will tally this year's spirit rice tax payments, and the ten spirit farmer cultivators ranking at the very end will be exiled to the front-line war camps to reinforce personnel."

"You'd better look out for yourself."

After Du Haifu finished speaking, without even looking at Qin Ming's reaction, he piloted his boat and departed.

Leaving only Qin Ming standing there in a daze.

"What? Exiled to a war camp?"

……

Night fell.

Qin Ming carried the remaining spirit rice back to his room.

Clang!

Shutting the door, Qin Ming flopped heavily onto the bed with a thud, lying face up, sprawled out on the bed like a dead dog.

His mind was in a complete mess.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought, recalling Du Haifu's words from earlier.

He knew very well that with his current spirit rice yield, he was one hundred percent among those ranking at the very bottom.

The Spirit Feather Sect's war camps were places with an extremely high casualty rate, a topic that made everyone turn pale at the mere mention.

The so-called reclamation naturally referred to the sect dispatching cultivators to open up wilderness areas in the Immortal Realm where no human presence existed.

These places were often previously occupied by demonic beasts or blocked by natural hazards, and everywhere was filled with crisis and danger.

Not to mention there were some indescribably eerie threats, making it difficult to cultivate peacefully on a daily basis.

To put it bluntly.

It was simply that the sect needed a large number of low-ranking cultivators to serve as cannon fodder for scouting the way.

Being a spirit farmer was indeed a bit tiring, but it had the advantage of stability.

In this world, there were plenty of people struggling just to survive.

Nowadays, work that others despised in every way had become his own lifesaving straw amidst a sea of bitterness.

'What should I do? I don't want to go to the war camp to be cannon fodder!'

'I really can't accept this!'

Qin Ming pondered; perhaps he was simply too exhausted today.

He actually drifted off into a deep sleep...

Suddenly!

A brilliant and gorgeous light streaked through the depths of his soul.

Qin Ming had a very long dream.

In the dream, all sorts of strange and bizarre plants, as if encountering something, grew wildly at an inconceivable speed, blotting out the sun and sky...

"Boom!"

Then, as if something exploded within his brain.

……

The next day.

Qin Ming got up, holding his throbbing head, his entire person feeling dizzy and muddled.

He got out of bed, fetched a basin of water, and walked to the flowerbed in the courtyard, preparing to wash up.

Several dozen stalks of spirit rice were planted inside the flowerbed; these were what he usually used to study crop habits and occasionally practice the Spirit Rain Technique.

But the moment Qin Ming looked up at the flowerbed, he froze completely! He saw that above three of the spirit rice stalks within the flowerbed, a string of prompts had actually popped up respectively: 【Name】: Golden Spirit Rice 【Attribute】: Accelerated Ripening (Maturity 100%, Harvestable)

【Name】: Golden Spirit Rice 【Attribute】: Intermediate Spirit Rain Technique five times (Maturity 100%, Harvestable)

【Name】: Golden Spirit Rice 【Attribute】: Faint Magic Power (Maturity 100%, Harvestable)

Qin Ming rubbed his eyes in disbelief and murmured:

"I got up too fast."

"Could it be that my sleeping posture last night was problematic?"

(End of Chapter)