Ambush

Half an hour later, Chen Jinshu finished harvesting the acre of Purple-Stamen Flowers and nourished the soil with the Rain Summoning Art.

The plot previously used for magnolia flowers had been replanted with two primary ingredients for the Recovery Pill: Blood-Clot Grass and Sagewort.

—Blood-Clot Grass: Halts bleeding, regulates blood flow, and mildly replenishes vitality.

—Sagewort: Heals wounds and purges toxins.

Half an acre of each now thrived, having grown robustly over the past month. They needed two more months to mature. With a wave of her hand, a light spiritual rain showered all three acres.

"I never expected the snow lotuses—so finicky in normal conditions—to adapt to this spiritual planting space."

Her gaze drifted to the edge of the field, where a few snow lotuses, once yellowed and withered, now sported vibrant green leaves. She'd nearly given up on them days ago.

The next morning, 7 AM.

Chen Jinshu arrived at the management hall and boarded the spirit vessel with Third Uncle Chen Huaiyang and a group of spirit farmers, bound for the market.

This trip included two more farmers than last time, all at Qi Refining Fourth Layer or higher. Aside from Chen Huaiyang, the strongest was a Layer six cultivator.

The stakes were higher: these farmers carried large sums of spirit stones—enough to impact Vulture Mountain's entire agricultural future. Losses were unacceptable.

She also noticed a shift in their demeanor toward her. Last time, they'd been indifferent. Now, they nodded in acknowledgment.

Chen Jinshu had brought a haul to sell. This time, she planned to rent a stall instead of underselling to shops.

"A stall in Vermilion Market costs just one spirit stone per hour. Worth a try."

After an uneventful hour-long flight, the group arrived safely.

"Regroup at the market entrance in five hours. No trouble. Latecomers return on their own," Chen Huaiyang instructed, adding a stern warning—likely due to Chen Jinli's crippling incident last time.

The farmers, all seasoned cultivators, understood.

~

Chen Jinshu headed straight for the rental office. Soon, she'd paid one spirit stone for a corner stall. Her display:

—Purple-Stamen Flowers (neatly boxed).

—One high-grade magnolia flower (as a showcase piece).

—Self-refined Spirit Origin Pills and Fasting Pills.

—Premium spirit eggs.

"With this quality, business should boom." She sat back, prepared to wait.

At 9:15 AM, foot traffic was still sparse. She'd labeled prices clearly, trusting buyers to approach.

Thirty minutes later, a cultivator paused at her stall.

"How many of these high-grade magnolias do you have?"

"How many do you need?" She perked up.

"A hundred."

Her heart raced. "I have them—freshly harvested. But the price…?" She gestured to her "2 flowers = 1 spirit stone" sign.

"Acceptable."

"Fifty stones, then." She barely contained her excitement, producing two crates (50 flowers each).

(Shops would've lowballed her at 4 flowers per stone. This was a steal.)

The buyer inspected the goods, smiled, and paid without haggling.

After he left, she swiftly removed the remaining high-grade magnolias—she needed some for alchemy.

By the end of the hour, she'd sold 30+ spirit stones' worth of herbs and pills.

"Too time-consuming. I could've cultivated instead."

Stall life wasn't for her: few customers, unstable income.

Packing up, she headed to her usual shops to offload the rest.

By afternoon, her total spirit stones had surpassed 200—a personal record, though she'd spent some on new robes and accessories.

At the rendezvous point, only four farmers had returned. The others arrived shortly, all punctual despite their heavier purchases.

Soon, the spirit vessel lifted off for Vulture Mountain.

Thirty minutes into the flight, as they passed over a bamboo forest, an eerie silence settled. The usual rustling of leaves sounded muffled, as if weighed down.

"Something's wrong."

Shadowpeak Finch chirped frantic warnings from its pouch.

Then—movement in the trees below.

"Third Uncle! The forest ahead—!"

Chen Huaiyang's face darkened. "AMBUSH! BRACE FOR BATTLE!"

A deafening "bzzzzzt" erupted as thousands of black-and-yellow spirit wasps surged toward the ship. Below, a whirlwind of insects spiraled up like a tornado.

Chen Jinshu's blood ran cold.

"So the locust plague WAS his doing!"

As she drew her Plum Rain Fan, four figures emerged atop the trees—one unmistakably Chen Wenshan.