90: Chapter 90: Successful Cultivation, Abundant Spirit Plants

As the morning light just broke the clouds, the layer of silver mist in the Medicinal Field dissipated.

Chen Tiezhu sat in front of the control console, dark circles under his eyes, still clutching the unfinished half of his dry pipe.

He swiped his finger across the terminal, pulling up the holographic data chart of the six rows of spiritual plants—the three rows on the left were traditionally cultivated, while the three rows on the right had been treated with weak Spiritual Qi pulses and atomized spiritual liquid sprays.

The two growth curves lay side by side, almost overlapping. Cellular activity, Spiritual Qi affinity, medicinal purity...

All three core indicators met the standards, the division rate was stable within the safe range, and for a full twenty-four hours, not a single error occurred.

"It worked," his throat moved, his voice sounding as if it had been ground on sandpaper. "It really fucking worked."

The moment his words fell, the System interface automatically jumped, the warning red lights extinguished, replaced by a glaring green: [Dual-track Cultivation Scheme Verification Passed].

He leaned back, his whole body sinking into the chair, his shoulders relaxing, as if the furnace fire he had carried for thirty years had finally gone out.

He stared at the ceiling, curled his mouth, then closed his eyes and remained motionless.

Deep in the Medicinal Field, the morning breeze blew past.

Thousands of spiritual plants swayed in unison, their leaves gleaming with a jade-like luster, like a sea washed by moonlight.

They were no longer frail seedlings, but mature plants half a person tall with sturdy stems, their roots deeply embedded in the soil, and the fluctuations of Spiritual Qi stretching out into a web.

The crisp, strange fragrance in the air grew stronger; breathing it in, even one's lungs and bowels felt as if they had been cleansed.

Chen Wuwang stood on the observation platform at the edge of the greenhouse, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye slowly retracting its scanning mode.

He took it off and gently wiped the lens with a cloth, his movements very slow, as if afraid of disturbing something.

He didn't smile, nor did he speak; he simply put the Mechanical Prosthetic Eye back on, his gaze sweeping across the entire Medicinal Field, finally resting on the three rows on the right—the products of technological acceleration, identical to those grown by the old methods on the left.

But he knew they were different.

The left side took three years, while the right side only took three months.

Time, he had snatched it back.

His fingertips unconsciously tapped the hilt of the dagger at his waist, once, twice, with a steady rhythm.

His mind was already calculating: after this batch of spiritual plants was harvested, how many healing pills could be refined, how many conflicts could it support, and whether the defensive tower cluster could be pushed to the third stage before the next major Family probed them.

The distant ridgeline was still wrapped in gray morning mist, excessively quiet.

But the quieter it was, the tighter the string in his heart was pulled. The more things one had, the more others wanted to snatch them. This was the iron law of the Cultivation World.

Footsteps came from the field ridge, light and hurried, carrying the reckless energy typical of a young person.

Chen Xiaodao had arrived.

He had been patrolling the fields as usual, but halfway there, his nose was hooked by the fragrance.

When he saw the scene before him, he froze in place, his eyes wide open.

"Grand-uncle..." His voice trembled as he took a few steps forward and reached out to gently touch the leaf of a mutated spiritual plant, his fingertips receiving a warm feedback of spiritual power. "Did we really... do it?"

No one answered him.

He didn't bother to look for anyone to ask, instead crouching down directly to check the root status, leaf vein patterns, and the flow paths of Spiritual Qi one by one. The more he looked, the faster his heart beat.

This wasn't just fast growth; the medicinal properties were completely on point! There wasn't a trace of impurity; it was as pure as mountain spring water.

"Hahaha!" He stood up abruptly and laughed loudly, his laughter hitting the greenhouse ceiling and bouncing back. "I said it before! Technology is not an Evil Path! This is the right way! This is a new sky!"

He turned around, wanting to run back to call people from the Sword Pavilion to come and see, to let all the brothers see it with their own eyes!

But from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Chen Wuwang on the high platform.

That person had his back to the Medicinal Field, facing the distant mountains, motionless like an iron-cast statue.

Chen Xiaodao's steps faltered.

He suddenly realized that his cheering just now might have seemed like childish impulse in the eyes of the Family head.

He pursed his lips, suppressing the surging heat in his heart, and walked over slowly, standing half a step behind Chen Wuwang without saying another word.

The wind blew from the valley, carrying moisture and the scent of grass and trees.

Chen Wuwang finally spoke, his voice low but every word clear: "What do you think is the most valuable thing in this field right now?"

Chen Xiaodao was startled: "Of course, it's the spiritual plants. If this whole batch is harvested, it can at least be exchanged for three medium-sized spiritual mines."

"Wrong," Chen Wuwang shook his head. "The most valuable thing is time. It is the fact that we are ten times faster than others."

He raised his hand and pointed to the outline of the distant mountains: "The Zhao family dared to make a move last night because they thought we were still waiting. Waiting for three years, waiting for five years, waiting for Heaven to bestow food. But now—we don't have to wait anymore."

Chen Xiaodao's breathing hitched. He understood. This wasn't a harvest; it was the horn of war.

"So next..." he asked in a low voice, "how are we going to fight?"

"No rush," Chen Wuwang closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his Sea of Consciousness, where the family rise system interface floated quietly, waiting for the new heavenly secret instruction at midnight tomorrow. "First, let them smell the scent. Wait until they can't sit still, and they will come to our door to negotiate themselves."

He opened his eyes, his gaze like a knife, cutting across the horizon.

In the Medicinal Field, the spiritual plants swayed gently with the wind, the fragrance surging like a tide.

Chen Xiaodao stood behind him, his fists slowly clenching. He knew that the peaceful days were over. But this time, they held cards in their hands. Not just their lives, but also time.

Chen Tiezhu rummaged through the control room and found a dust-covered bottle of spiritual brew, pouring himself a cup. He didn't drink it, just raised it, gently clinking it against the green ocean on the monitor screen.

"Old friend," he said softly, "if you were still here, you definitely wouldn't have imagined that the furnace fire of our Chen Family could also forge a spring."

He threw his head back and gulped it down, coughing from the spiciness, tears even coming out. But on his face, there was a smile.

Chen Wuwang stood at the edge of the high platform, the wind blowing his silver-white hair ends. The Mechanical Prosthetic Eye constantly refreshed the real-time data of the Medicinal Field; everything was normal. He didn't move. He was waiting.

Waiting for the first complete cycle to finish, waiting for Chen Tiezhu to personally confirm the last set of samples, waiting for the System to give the new heavenly secret instruction tomorrow morning. That would be the true beginning.

Chen Xiaodao stood on the field ridge, looking at that lush green sea, suddenly bending down to dig out a small fragment of root from the soil, carefully tucking it into his bosom. This was a witness. It was also a token.

He looked up at Chen Wuwang's back, suddenly feeling that the man had never just been growing medicine. He was growing the future.

The sunlight completely spilled into the Medicinal Field, illuminating the leaves until they were crystal clear, like countless unsheathed swords, silently pointing toward the sky.