Chapter 2 - Opportunity Knocks at the Door

“What, you want to fight me for it?” Du Long narrowed his eyes.

Feeling the overwhelming strength of this fellow, which was far greater than his own, Jiang Tang said, “…

I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare.”

If he couldn’t beat him, he certainly couldn’t just stand his ground and fight.

“You wastrel, you’re wasting my time, hand over the silver now!” Du Long’s face showed a trace of anger as he held out his palm toward him.

Jiang Tang: “…”

So he was after his gold.

He couldn’t fight him, nor could he run away.

Not admitting he was scared and yet reluctant to cough up the silver, Jiang Tang pondered for a while before finally presenting a stalk of Spirit Grass with a sycophantic grin, hurrying over and saying, “Here I have a stalk of Nourishing Soul Grass, obtained by a stroke of luck.

I offer it to Brother Long as an apology.”

This Nourishing Soul Grass was a treasure from the Spirit Field, not to mention its top quality, and was even purer than the mixed breed Nourishing Soul Grass outside—it could absorb a densely concentrated amount of Spiritual Power.

Moreover, the Nourishing Soul Grass was extremely rare and expensive, and only the wealthy sons outside could afford it.

In the Sect, it belonged to resources available only to the Outer Sect disciples and above.

Upon seeing the Nourishing Soul Grass, Du Long immediately forgot about money.

His anger subsided with a cold snort, he pocketed the Nourishing Soul Grass and entered the Practice Room.

The duty Disciple looked at Jiang Tang with sympathy in his eyes.

Jiang Tang felt a pang in his wallet and thought to himself that once he started his cultivation, he definitely needed to consume lots of these grasses.

He turned and returned to his own courtyard, sat cross-legged, closed his eyes to focus, and began to inspect his own Spirit Field.

The Spirit Field spanned one mu, divided into five sections, where he had planted a total of two hundred stalks of Spirit Grass.

He initially wasn’t very familiar with these matters, but having worked the land for three years and with the help of ancient texts’ introductions and cultivation methods, he had managed to become skillful.

In fact, he hadn’t fully cultivated the one-mu plot because he had built a cowshed in a small corner of it.

When Jiang Tang first began to till the Spirit Field, he found insects in it, so he tried putting a few chickens in to catch them, realizing later that living creatures could be brought into this place.

Thus, not long ago, Jiang Tang went down the mountain, bought a Little Blue Ox, and brought it into the space specifically for ploughing the field.

Since the seeds in the space were running out, one section was left empty.

Jiang Tang, who had some Spirit Grass seeds left, took the Little Blue Ox out, harnessed it to the Spirit Plough, and began ploughing that section of the Spirit Field.

In less than a quarter of an hour, this young calf had ploughed the field with brute strength.

Jiang Tang led it to the cowshed, took out the stored dry Spirit Grass from his Qiankun Bag and filled the feed trough, poured a large trough of Spirit Water, patted its head, and then, picking up the hoe, walked to the front of that particular section of the field.

Twisting his fingers to activate his Spiritual Power, Jiang Tang struck the hardened soil with the hoe repeatedly.

The soil broke apart, and the trapped Spiritual Energy was released and began to flow in every direction.

Breaking up the soil was a delicate task; back then, Jiang Tang had learned it for a long time before he became adept as he was now.

Wiping the fine sweat from his forehead, Jiang Tang looked at the finely crumbled soil overflowing with Spiritual Energy, feeling a sense of pride.

He picked up the rake, brought the well-fed and rested Little Blue Ox to rake the field once more, saw that the soil became even without any high or low spots, then scattered the Spirit Grass seeds, watered the land, and applied fertilizer.

“Little fella, you worked hard.

Go back and rest,” Jiang Tang said with a slight smile, stuffing a handful of beans into the mouth of the Little Blue Ox.

The Little Blue Ox nodded obediently and returned to the cowshed to drink the Spirit Water.

Jiang Tang continued to look over the crops in his space, occasionally pinching his fingers to pull out a weed.

The crops here grew at an astonishing pace, some having only just been planted when sprouts were already peeking out.

Moments later, the few rows of Spirit Fields in front had already matured.

Jiang Tang hurriedly took the sickle hanging beside the cowshed, carefully harvesting the mature Spirit Grass and storing them in the Qiankun Bag.

After adding beans and Spirit Water for the Little Blue Ox, Jiang Tang finally departed the space, drenched in sweat.

After taking a bath, the sun had already begun to set.

As Jiang Tang stepped outside, he suddenly heard laughter coming from nearby.

He climbed onto the fence of his own yard, stealthily peeking over.

A Servant Disciple was showing off a two-foot-long sword, proudly proclaiming, “This is a Yellow-Tier sword gifted to me by my brother from the Outer Sect.

Although it is of the lowest quality, it is still an incredibly sharp treasure.”

Listening to his boastful tales, a flash of envy crossed Jiang Tang’s eyes, identical to that of the other Servant Disciples around.

In this world of cultivation, plants are categorized into four grades: A, B, C, and D, with each grade divided into upper, middle, and lower levels, adding up to twelve ranks in total.

Weapons are also classified accordingly, just categorized as Heavenly, Earthly, Mysterious, and Yellow.

Four grades, also separated into upper, middle, and lower, likewise make up twelve ranks.

Those that attain a rank are known as Spiritual Artifacts, and only cultivators can wield them.

For someone like him, who’d only reached the second level of Body Refinement after half a year of practice, dreaming of wielding such weapons was a long journey indeed.

Ah, no rush, why the hurry?

Once he became a major cultivator with wealth spreading in all directions, would he still worry about not being able to vigorously harvest Spirit Grass to enhance his cultivation, or holding a Longsword to travel the world?

Some things became even more elusive the more you rushed them, while not rushing sometimes brought them to you more frequently.

And wasn’t that the case?

The opportunity presented itself to Jiang Tang the very next day.

At the crack of dawn, staring at the two Outer Sect Stewards standing before his fence, a drowsy Jiang Tang suddenly felt a jolt of alertness and quickly woke up.

“Honorable Stewards, I’m not sure what brings you here to seek me out at this hour,” Jiang Tang welcomed them in, inviting them into the hall and respectfully bowing.

Frowning at the humble courtyard that was so modest even his own dog would scorn it, both Stewards knit their brows.

“Jiang, friend, I’ve seen the records.

You’ve worked hard these past three years and earned a fair amount of silver.

Why do you still live in such a miserable place instead of moving to something more spacious and comfortable?” one Steward asked with a furrowed brow.

Jiang Tang served them a pot of tea brewed with herbs picked from the Spirit Field, then scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly, “To be honest, I lived in poverty as a child, and I wanted to save some silver to open a shop at the foot of the mountain and earn some money for myself.”

The Immortal Sect allowed disciples to conduct business, but the income was taxable, with twenty percent going to the Sect.

Paying taxes had its benefits as well; you could hang the Immortal Sect’s insignia above your storefront, akin to having a powerful patron.

Unless one sought trouble for themselves, people generally wouldn’t dare provoke them.

The two Stewards nodded in approval, taking a sip from their old tea cups and instantly noticing the aroma and the Spiritual Energy rushing through their lips straight into their Dantian.

They praised the excellent tea, and their gazes toward Jiang Tang grew warmer and more benevolent.

“Jiang, friend, considering your three years of diligent farming without slack, we’ve taken the liberty to secure you a spot in the agricultural fair.

The top prize comes with thousands of silver; are you willing to participate?” the Steward who spoke earlier now said slowly.

The agricultural fair held by the Immortal Sect was a market event similar to a temple fair, occurring once a year and specially meant for selling the Sect’s harvest.

Those who sold the most would get a reward in silver from the Sect.

That top prize, he recalled, was indeed worth a thousand silver.