Chapter Eleven: The Plan

"That's right," Qin Ming replied calmly. "The Beast Fang Rice hasn't matured yet, but it has already been successfully planted. It's just a matter of time."

A trace of delight appeared on Ruan's face.

"Since you have this as an extra bargaining chip, then of course we can trade," he said. "However, ten pounds is a bit too little. I will need at least twenty pounds of Beast Fang Rice." After some thought, he named his price.

Qin Ming frowned at his words and turned to leave immediately. This man was clearly trying to take advantage of him. Twenty pounds of Beast Fang Rice? That was nothing short of daylight robbery.

In the past, the price of Beast Fang Rice was already ten times that of ordinary Golden Spirit Rice. Now, with all kinds of cultivation resources in Qingyang Market soaring in price, the going rate for Beast Fang Rice was at least five spirit stones per pound.

The Hundred Treasures Glass Scripture sounded impressive from Ruan's introduction, but no one had ever actually mastered it. Who could say whether the creator had exaggerated its effects? Besides, once one started cultivating it, it would require a constant consumption of spirit stones. Even after several generations of the Ruan family experimenting with it, the highest anyone reached was the third level...

Though Qin Ming was somewhat interested in the technique, Ruan's asking price far exceeded what he was willing to accept.

Seeing Qin Ming about to leave without another word, Ruan panicked and regretted his earlier greed. He shouldn’t have set the price so high at the outset.

"Wait, wait, Qin, everything is negotiable! Don't be in such a hurry, please stay!" Ruan hurriedly stopped him. "How about this: I'll step back—a further fifteen pounds of Beast Spirit Rice on top?"

Qin Ming said nothing, simply gazing at him in silence.

Ruan, seeing Qin Ming's unmoving attitude, could only sigh in resignation. 'Young people these days are so impulsive...'

He realized this was Qin Ming’s final bottom line. Ruan sighed deeply, hesitated a long while, then murmured, "So be it. My Ruan family has held onto this technique for so long, yet no one has mastered it. Perhaps it's simply not our fate."

"Let's do as you say: one hundred spirit stones and ten pounds of Beast Fang Rice."

He put on an air of resignation.

Qin Ming smiled faintly. "Deal."

"When will you be able to deliver the Beast Fang Rice?" Ruan finally relaxed and asked slowly.

"About... two years from now," Qin Ming considered before replying.

"In that case, let's do this: you pay me the one hundred spirit stones now, and I will copy the first five levels of the technique for you. When your Beast Fang Rice matures, you can come to collect the original manual. What do you think?"

"Agreed," Qin Ming responded crisply.

He immediately took out one hundred spirit stones from his storage pouch and handed them to Ruan.

As he passed over the stones, he maintained a calm, generous facade, but inside, it felt like his heart was bleeding. He had saved those stones with great effort, and now, he was nearly betting everything he had.

Ruan put the stones away, then produced a jade slip, handing it to Qin Ming with a smile.

Qin Ming took the slip, pressed it to his brow, and carefully examined its contents with his divine sense. He repeatedly compared it with the technique written on Ruan's beast-hide scroll, confirming its authenticity.

The transaction was complete.

After exchanging a few more words, Qin Ming left the Ruan estate.

...

Back in the shantytown, Qin Ming returned to his ordinary farming routine.

Within his acre of Beast Fang Rice spirit fields:

[Name]: Beast Fang Rice [Trait]: Advanced Spirit Rain Technique x5 (Maturity 35%)
[Name]: Beast Fang Rice [Trait]: Quality Enhancement x1 (Maturity 32%)
[Name]: Beast Fang Rice [Trait]: Ripening x5 (Maturity 40%)

Each day, Qin Ming watched these three traits gradually advance toward maturity, giving him confidence. Over the next two years, he had his plans. If another "Ripening" trait appeared in the spirit field, he would secretly transplant and force a small batch of Beast Fang Rice to ripen for his own cultivation.

After all, removing a few hundred stalks would hardly be noticed by others. Of course, those three special stalks with traits had to be transplanted and ripened as well. With five uses of "Ripening" still available, and with both the spirit seeds and traits in hand, he could continue accelerating their growth in the future...

If not for the increasingly turbulent surroundings, Qin Ming would not have felt pressed for time. Two years was not so long to wait.

But now, circumstances no longer allowed for patience. Even if he didn’t seek trouble, trouble might find him.

The situation in the cultivation world changed in the blink of an eye. Even the high-level power struggles within the sects were now spilling over into far-flung corners like the Qingyang Market in the remote Yunze Wilds.

Qin Ming still hoped to keep his fate firmly in his own hands.

...

A month later.

At last, the final harvest of spirit rice for the year arrived.

This season was different from before. Elder Gu of the Spirit Feather Sect and Overseer Du Haifu were already waiting in the fields, surrounded by disciples maintaining vigilance nearby.

Under Elder Gu's watchful gaze, the spirit farmers began harvesting the rice.

As evening fell, the harvest was complete, and Du Haifu began collecting the spirit rice tax from each farmer.

Before long, he had finished his tallies and respectfully handed the ranking jade slip to Elder Gu for review.

Qin Ming's Golden Spirit Rice yield had risen again this season, breaking the mark of ten shi and ninety jin!

Moreover, Elder Gu waived a tenth of his spirit rice tax this time.

After paying the tax, Qin Ming had three hundred and twenty jin of Golden Spirit Rice left for himself.

His accumulated total over the three seasons placed him in the top ten overall.

When Du Haifu came to collect the tax, his attitude was worlds apart from before, calling him "Little Qin" with exaggerated sweetness.

Of course, making it into the top ten this time was partly due to the recent rampage of the Mad Howler Monkey demon beast—only Qin Ming’s and a few other fields remained unscathed.

After reviewing the yield statistics, Elder Gu’s stern face showed no hint of emotion.

He announced coldly, "This year's spirit rice rankings have been finalized. You may check for yourselves. The bottom thirty cultivators, board the ship and come with me."

Even though their fields had suffered from demon beast attacks, the Spirit Feather Sect showed no leniency to these low-ranking farmers.

Thirty spirit farmers stood motionless, staring in despair at the rankings on the light screen. They all knew too well what fate awaited them.

Watching them, Qin Ming felt a mix of emotions.

Then, suddenly, his gaze became resolute. He turned to pat Old Cai beside him. "Don’t look. Let’s go."

"Qin Ming, do you think there will come a day when the two of us end up among those thirty?" Old Cai asked in a raspy voice.

Qin Ming paused in his tracks, silent.

If not for his golden finger...

Perhaps that scene just now would have been his answer—the final fate of an ordinary man.

Beasts of burden in times of prosperity, cannon fodder in times of chaos—wrung dry in peace, sent to die in war.