Chapter 10: The Free Guardian

As Shen Qinghe truly seemed about to leave, the disciples on the ridge grew restless. The disciple in the grey robe, unable to contain himself any longer, hurriedly caught up to her in a few quick strides. “Junior Sister Shen, wait! I... I’m willing to pay with spirit stones!”

His outcry was like a floodgate opening; the other disciples immediately called out to keep her.

“I’m willing too!”

“Count me in!”

Shen Qinghe paused and turned, her gaze sweeping calmly over the crowd.

The grey-robed disciple, impatient, had already fetched a faintly glowing low-grade spirit stone from his storage pouch and handed it to her. “Junior Sister Shen, I’ll observe for a month first.”

“Very well,” Shen Qinghe replied, taking the spirit stone and stowing it away.

Seeing this, the other disciples also came forward to pay, but without exception, each only offered a single low-grade spirit stone.

After all, for one low-grade spirit stone to buy a month’s opportunity to observe, it hardly seemed a bad bargain.

Shen Qinghe had expected this. Who among those accepted into Azure Cloud Sect was not proud and lofty?

Naturally, they wouldn’t trust her words so easily. In their minds, a month would be enough to grasp seventy or eighty percent of her planting method, if not all. If anything was lacking, they could always pay another stone or two later to fill in the gaps—what could be more perfect?

“Junior Sister Shen, now that we’ve all paid...” One disciple, unable to restrain himself after she finished collecting the stones and stood motionless, urged her on.

Others looked at her eagerly, some already holding recording jade slips, clearly itching to begin.

Shen Qinghe ignored their little schemes and lightly weighed the pouch at her waist.

Twenty-three low-grade spirit stones—an even better haul than she’d expected.

She gathered up the muddy hem of her skirt, stepped barefoot into the spirit field, and let the clear spring water lap at her pale ankles, sending ripples across the surface.

For the next while, Shen Qinghe immersed herself wholly in transplanting the seedlings. Her movements flowed with effortless grace; every bend and every plant she set seemed to embody a mysterious rhythm.

Her slender fingers weaved through the young shoots as though playing a silent melody.

The disciples on the ridge watched, utterly entranced; a few even unconsciously mimicked her actions.

Before long, she no longer needed any tools. Each time, she placed the seedlings precisely, maintaining nearly identical intervals with uncanny accuracy.

As the last seedling was set in the field, a faint spiritual radiance suddenly shimmered across the entire plot. The verdant shoots swayed gently in the breeze, and an inexplicable connection seemed to form among them.

Spiritual energy flowed through the field, gradually forming a complete cycle, and in that moment, the entire field burst with astonishing vitality.

Shen Qinghe straightened, wiped the sweat from her brow, and summoned her ancient book for another look.

She saw that her proficiency in planting Azure Spirit Rice had reached “Proficient” (387/500).

She had checked several times during her labor. Early on, she gained a point in proficiency for every three to five seedlings planted. But as her skill advanced, the progress slowed—by the end, it took dozens of seedlings for a single point.

Still, this pace pleased her greatly. At this rate, she would reach an even higher mastery before long.

Shen Qinghe put away the ancient book, musing to herself: The speed of proficiency gain must be closely tied to the quality of the spirit plant itself.

In the cultivation world, spirit plants were ranked by rarity into five grades: Common, Rare, Precious, Heaven and Earth Treasures, and Peerless Specimens.

Each grade was further divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers.

The Azure Spirit Rice, though high-yielding and of good benefit to cultivators, required long-term consumption, so it was classified as high-tier among common-grade spirit plants.

Because of this, planting Azure Spirit Rice demanded only simple memorization, and proficiency was easier to improve.

If it were a higher-grade plant, her progress wouldn’t have been so smooth.

Shen Qinghe composed herself and gazed at the sky.

Dusk had quietly fallen. The blood-red setting sun stained half the heavens with its brilliant purple and crimson. The drifting clouds seemed as if celestial beings themselves were painting with broad, flowing strokes.

The last golden rays fell slantwise on the spirit field, bathing the emerald seedlings in a hazy glow.

She brushed off her sleeves and tidied the farming tools. Just as she was about to leave, she caught a glimpse of the disciples who had paid their spirit stones lingering on the ridge.

Their faces, illuminated by the twilight, were vivid with expression:

Some stared wide-eyed, lost in fascination at the circulating spiritual energy within the field, lips moving as they silently memorized each detail.

Some frowned in concentration, drawing shapes in the air as they tried to mimic her earlier motions.

Still others watched the thriving seedlings with greedy, calculating eyes, as if plotting something.

As Shen Qinghe stepped barefoot onto the soft earth of the ridge, the grey-robed disciple smiled and asked, “Junior Sister Shen, might we stay a while longer?”

She paused, glanced back, and after a moment’s thought, nodded. “If you wish, senior brothers and sisters, you may observe until dawn. Take your time to study the spiritual circulation among these young shoots.”

At these words, delighted whispers rippled through the group.

Shen Qinghe caught the joy in their faces, a trace of amusement flickering in her eyes.

Her spirit field had no protection at all—she dreaded Zhao Shi might return to cause trouble. Now that these people were willing to remain, they could serve as her guards, sparing her that concern.

Cultivators with means would always array their spirit fields with protective formations, or at the very least set warning wards.

As for her, with her meager possessions, she couldn’t afford even the cheapest formation plate, much less arrange a proper array.

And even if she knew the art of formations, with her meager first-layer Qi Refining cultivation, any array she set would be little more than an empty show, easily broken.

Night breezes rose, carrying a hint of chill.

Shen Qinghe wasted no more time, walking slowly along the winding ridge.

When she returned to her small courtyard, all was quiet.

Liu Qingqing’s door remained tightly shut; she clearly hadn’t returned.

Shen Qinghe opened the kitchen door, drew some water into the pot, and kindled a fire to boil it.

When steam began to rise, she ladled out hot water into a wooden tub, mixed in cool water, and adjusted the temperature to comfort.

She shed her mud-stained garments, scooped up the warm water, and gently cleansed every inch of her skin.

After washing away her fatigue, she scrubbed her clothes in a wooden basin and hung them to dry.

Once everything was in order, she took a Fasting Pill and returned to her room.

She first glanced at the potted Violet Spirit Ginseng by her bed, only to find its leaves drooping, with not a trace of spiritual energy left in the soil.

Hurriedly, she summoned the ancient book to check the plant’s status.

Name: Violet Spirit Ginseng (catalogued)
Status: Withered
Growth: 24/100
Cultivation: Unskilled (1/10)
Mutation: None
Note: Violet Spirit Ginseng is a spirit plant capable of continual growth, provided it receives sufficient spiritual energy.

A strange light flashed in Shen Qinghe’s eyes.

The ginseng was now withered, but its growth had increased by ten since last night.

She gathered a thread of spiritual power in her fingertip and probed the soil, immediately sensing that the low-grade spirit stone she’d buried the night before had been drained and was now a pile of fragments.

“Just as I thought,” Shen Qinghe mused.

It seemed this Violet Spirit Ginseng consumed even more spiritual energy than the Violet Cloud Ginseng.

A single low-grade spirit stone for ten points of growth—it was acceptable.

She didn’t begrudge the spirit stones. After burying another in the pot, she looked to the withered Violet Cloud Ginseng scattered across the room.

It was destined to be another sleepless night.