30: Chapter 30: Setting Up the Herb Fields – Attention from All Sides

Chen Wuwang stood in the center of the Medicinal Field, his feet firmly planted on the ground, unmoving as a mountain.

He did not look at the mutated Spiritual Plants, nor did he turn back to look in the direction where Old Lin had departed.

He knew that from this moment on, this land would no longer be under the control of farmers, nor would its life and death be determined by the weather—it belonged to the System, to data, and to the blade in his hand.

With his right hand, he slowly drew the titanium alloy dagger from his waist. The blade slid out of the scabbard inch by inch, its runes shimmering in the twilight, casting flickering light upon the three Zerg claw marks on his right cheek.

He leaned down, the tip of the dagger lightly touching the scorched earth, and began to trace along the trajectory of the residual Spiritual Qi.

The first line was drawn, and the soil turned over silently without smoking or raising dust, as if precisely peeled away by some force.

His movements were extremely steady, every stroke aligning with the pulsing veins of the underground Spiritual Vein, as if he were using the blade to take the pulse of the earth.

The circuit gradually formed, expanding outward in a ring. The intersecting lines formed a web, embedding themselves into the gaps torn by the roots of the mutated Spiritual Plants, like stitches closing a wound.

"Activate."

With a low shout, his fingertips pressed firmly onto the eye of the Formation—the exact geometric center of the triangle formed by the three Spiritual Plants.

In an instant, the earth trembled slightly.

It was not a violent shaking, but a dull resonance that spread from beneath his feet to the surrounding wilderness.

The lines of the Formation lit up one by one, a faint azure glow illuminating sequentially from the center to the periphery, like an electric current passing through a static circuit board.

The air twisted slightly, and a force field, invisible to the naked eye, quietly covered the entire Medicinal Field, bringing all residual Spiritual Qi under its control.

Automated cultivation program, officially initiated.

Chen Wuwang straightened his body and sheathed his blade, his movements crisp and efficient.

He did not check the data, nor did he confirm the operating status—he knew the System was running because his mechanical prosthetic eyes were silently scanning the airflow disturbances across the entire area, and the edges of his vision were constantly refreshing with green prompts: "Stable," "Synchronized," "Load Normal."

Yet there was not a hint of relaxation on his face; on the contrary, he looked even colder.

He slowly walked toward the high ground at the edge of the Medicinal Field, turning his back to the Formation and facing the distant mountains.

The night wind picked up again, carrying the scent of gravel unique to the Eastern Wasteland and a lingering hint of metallic rust.

He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over several hidden mountain hollows and cliff shadows in the distance.

There, several extremely faint fluctuations of Spiritual Sense were tentatively approaching; they were hidden deeply, yet they could not escape his prosthetic eyes.

He suddenly sneered.

His voice was not loud, but it carried a resonance that pierced through the wind, clearly transmitting in all directions: "Those hiding and watching, come out."

He paused, then added: "Or keep hiding? It doesn't matter. Anyway—you have already seen it."

He raised a hand and pointed at the ground beneath his feet, his tone flat, yet every word striking like a hammer: "In seven days, this place will produce the first batch of mutated Spiritual Plants. Those who want them, line up to negotiate. Those who want to snatch them..."

His gaze turned abruptly cold, and blood-red spiritual patterns flashed deep within his pupils, so fast it seemed like an illusion.

"Then don't blame me for not following the rules."

When his voice fell, the surroundings went silent for a moment.

Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

Immediately after, the Spiritual Sense fluctuations from two distant mountain hollows visibly fluctuated; one hidden aura rapidly retreated, while the other remained deadlocked in place, seemingly weighing its options. There was also a faint probe from high above that had been hovering motionlessly, but now it shifted its angle slightly, as if someone had forcibly diverted its gaze.

Chen Wuwang's lips curled slightly, and he said nothing more.

He turned and walked back to his original position in the center of the Medicinal Field, his pace neither hurried nor slow, each step landing on a node of the Formation, as if he were inspecting his own territory.

Arriving at the center point, he sat cross-legged and took out his personal Jade Slip, his fingers quickly inputting a string of encrypted code. The sound of his fingertips tapping on the surface of the Jade Slip was extremely faint, but the rhythm was steady, beat after beat, like a metronome for some kind of countdown.

After confirming that the System was running stably, he closed his eyes to rest, his breathing gradually becoming even, as if he had entered a state of deep meditation.

The night deepened.

The wind blew across the Medicinal Field, the faint light of the Formation flowing, and the subtle sound of roots wriggling came from beneath the soil, as if something alive were quietly growing in the darkness. Occasionally, an electric arc would leap at the edge of the Formation, only to vanish instantly, leaving no trace.

Chen Wuwang's lips curled slightly, and he whispered: "The more people who come, the better—it needs to be lively for the show to be good."

As his voice fell, his figure sat still as stone, only his mechanical prosthetic eyes flickering with a faint azure light, continuously monitoring the entire area.

In the distance, behind a cliff, a person in black robes abruptly retracted their probing Spiritual Sense and cursed in a low voice: "A madman! Does he really dare to use mutated Spiritual Plants as test subjects? If this explodes, half of the Eastern Wasteland will collapse!"

Beside them, another person was silent for a moment, then slowly said: "He is not afraid of an explosion... he is waiting for the explosion."

"What do you mean?"

"He is laying a trap." The person stared in the direction of the Medicinal Field, their eyes grave, "He isn't growing plants; he is fishing. Fishing for those fools who think they can pick up a bargain."

Meanwhile, on a floating tower ship three hundred miles away, an old man in a silver-patterned robe put down his Heaven-Peering Mirror and snorted coldly: "The Chen Family brat is truly audacious. Seven days later? I want to see what you have to guarantee that you will still be standing to harvest this batch of Spiritual Plants."

And in the depths of a more distant secluded valley, on a pitch-black altar, twelve mechanical Puppets stood silently. Suddenly, the eye socket of one of them lit up with a faint scarlet glow, and a whisper arose: "Resonance between technology and life... A perfect specimen. The Lord of the Old Days will like this."

In the center of the Medicinal Field, Chen Wuwang remained sitting with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything in the outside world.

But at that very instant, the little finger of his left hand moved slightly and tapped gently on his knee—three short taps, one long.

That was his habitual action when thinking. It was also the signal for a System notification.

But he did not open his eyes, nor did he check it. He knew that the storm was already on its way.

He would only wait for seven days. By then, who was the prey and who was the hunter would be revealed.

At this moment, the moonlight shone obliquely, falling on his shoulders, half bright, half hidden in shadow.

The Medicinal Field was as quiet as a pot waiting to boil. And he was the only one tending the stove.