Chapter Thirty: The Rice Thief

Cultivating Immortality in the World of Spiritual Ascension The Fireworks of Bygone Years 2632 words 2026-04-13 06:41:55

Seeing this, Zhou Changwang hurried into his own room, took two bottles of elixirs from his bedside, and handed them over, saying, “These are Restoration Pills and Vitality Creation Pills. They can heal your wounds—take them quickly.” As he spoke, his gaze couldn’t help but wander over to the wooden table.

The table, crafted from spiritual wood, was extremely sturdy, yet his father had left a deep palm print on it with a single strike, without damaging the table itself. Even the bowls and chopsticks on it barely moved, a clear display of his extraordinary strength and control.

“Alright!” Zhou Qiankun was also suppressing his internal injuries with his qi. Hearing this, he quickly accepted the spiritual pills. After swallowing both pills in succession, his body trembled, and the color soon returned to his face. Evidently, the effects of the two pills were superb; what would normally require over a month of careful rest to heal was now already more than half mended.

Without delay, he asked eagerly, “What exactly happened?”

“Five days ago, I was ambushed on my way home by two innate-level experts...” Zhou Changwang did not conceal anything and recounted everything that had happened in the preceding days.

“It was them? I knew something was wrong with those two. I even went to warn them before. I never thought they’d actually dare…” At this, he was filled with resentment and regret. He hadn’t expected that his late return home would lead to such a calamity.

...

After their meal, Zhou Changwang urged his father to rest at home, while he himself shouldered his spiritual hoe and, with his little spirit dog in tow, made his way straight toward the spiritual fields at the outskirts of the market.

Thanks to days of attentive care, the spiritual grain in the field had grown even more robust. The hanging grains were plump and nearly ripe for harvest. Along the way, almost every spirit farmer Zhou Changwang encountered wore a smile on their face—the joy of an abundant harvest.

“Changwang, there you are. There’s something I need to tell you.” As soon as he reached the edge of his own plot, Old Xu hurried over, his expression grim.

“What is it?” Zhou Changwang was taken aback and asked in confusion.

“The spiritual rice has been stolen.”

Old Xu spoke with a heavy tone.

“What?” Zhou Changwang was stunned.

“I had several acres of spiritual fields, and someone secretly harvested them. Although not much was taken from each, at least thirty pounds were cut per acre. I lost about two hundred pounds from six acres.” With these words, Old Xu’s expression turned even more unsightly, his heart aching.

Two hundred pounds of spiritual rice, after husking, is about one hundred fifty pounds. Calculated at ten pounds per low-grade spirit stone, that’s fifteen spirit stones. He had always been frugal, and whatever he spent on pest control, he’d quickly earn back from Xu Zhong the next day. He’d even helped Zhou Changwang sell spirit insects, managing to earn two extra spirit stones—something he’d been quite proud of, always saying that miscalculation leads to poverty, not eating or clothing. Now, losing fifteen low-grade spirit stones in one go, how could he feel at ease?

“Go check your own fields to see if you’ve been robbed,” Old Xu urged.

Zhou Changwang nodded and quickly ran to inspect his field.

After a thorough check, he breathed a sigh of relief. Fortunately, though there were some footprints, none of the rice had been harvested.

At this point, Zhou Changwang realized that the reason his field hadn’t been targeted wasn’t mercy on the thief’s part, but rather that his rice simply hadn’t grown as quickly as Old Xu’s. Old Xu’s spiritual rice was already plump and had turned from green to yellow, fully ripened, while Zhou Changwang’s was just beginning to turn yellow, a day or two from maturity. This was partly due to Old Xu’s greater experience, but mainly because his Rain Invocation skill was more advanced and had reached a proficient level. Proficient Rain Invocation drew in more spiritual energy, naturally producing better crops.

Though Zhou Changwang’s Rain Invocation had also just reached proficiency, it was a recent breakthrough, and he simply couldn’t match Old Xu’s progress.

Subsequent news confirmed this: most of the thefts occurred among experienced farmers whose rice had already matured. Those with less advanced skills, whose rice grew more slowly, escaped unscathed.

“Damn it. Those Zhao brothers at the foot of Changling Mountain are too cold-hearted. We only asked a few questions and they tried to drive us away. I bet they’re the ones who stole our rice—no one else lives nearby except them, and they have a spirit dog. If there was a thief, the dog would have given a warning. Who else could it be?” Old Xu came over, cursing.

He and the other affected farmers had gone to question the Zhao brothers—everyone was upset and their tone accusatory, only to be driven away. Still, Old Xu had a point: the Zhaos were the only ones living close by, and their spirit dog was highly alert. If anyone tried to steal rice, it would surely have noticed.

However, there was nothing they could do. The Zhao brothers were both mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators, and even patrolling cultivators from the Spirit Plant Hall treated them with respect. No one dared provoke them lightly.

So, although Old Xu was ranting now, that was only because the brothers were far away. He wouldn’t have dared say a word if they were near.

“With the spiritual rice about to ripen, we all need to be more vigilant. Today it was Old Xu’s field; tomorrow, it could be mine.” As Zhou Changwang cast Rain Invocation over his field, he grew more wary.

But the nights outside were far too dangerous. Not only were there beasts from the mountains and flying monsters from the sky, but also bandits and night-stalking ghosts and fiends. Zhou Changwang, unlike the Zhao brothers—mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators with magical tools and a spirit dog as strong as a second-layer Qi Refiner—could not hope to detect every threat. Staying out overnight would be far too risky.

“Luckily, the thief didn’t dare go too far, only taking twenty or thirty pounds per acre…” Zhou Changwang understood this was because the thief feared the Spirit Plant Hall. With their means, finding the culprit wouldn’t be difficult. But for such minor thefts, which only harmed a few spirit farmers, the Hall wouldn’t bother to intervene.

At noon, his father brought him spiritual rice for lunch. After hearing about the theft, he didn’t say much, only suggesting that he come to guard the field at night for the next few days.

Naturally, Zhou Changwang refused. Though his father was experienced at surviving in the wild, he wasn’t about to risk his life for a few acres of rice.

Nevertheless, the incident did indeed leave the nearby farmers anxious. Many were now considering spending the nights guarding their fields.

...

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