The Floating Spirit Fields

On this day, Guo Tao suddenly knocked on Song Wen's door.

"Junior Brother Jiyin, the miasma tide has receded. We are to head to the spirit fields today to count the Seven-Color Grass."

Hearing this, Song Wen knew that the Yan family's modifications to disguise the spirit fields must be complete.

A wave of uncertainty washed over him. He truly did not know how he should handle the upcoming audit.

If he continued to let the Yan family lead him by the nose, he might leave their territory alive and preserve his life for the moment. However, if he failed to uncover the underlying issue with the spirit fields, he would inevitably be implicated once the truth came to light.

When the Corpse Demon Sect investigated his dereliction of duty and handed down its judgment, he would be trapped in a living hell. The mere thought of the sect's gruesome and hair-raising tortures made him shudder.

'Should I defect from the sect?'

Fleeing the Corpse Demon Sect before they discovered the discrepancies in the spirit fields was the only path Song Wen could think of that offered a slim chance of survival. But could he truly escape the sect's endless, relentless pursuit?

With countless heavy thoughts weighing on his mind, Song Wen walked over and opened the door.

Guo Tao, who had been wearing a cheerful smile, instantly feigned an expression of deep concern the moment he caught sight of Song Wen's troubled demeanor.

"Junior Brother Jiyin, what is the matter? Why do you look so somber and distressed?"

Song Wen suddenly realized he had allowed himself to fall into a mental rut. Overwhelming anxiety had caused his composure to slip, allowing Guo Tao to pick up on his distress.

'When the mountains and rivers seem to block the path, the dense willows and bright flowers will reveal another village. No matter how bleak the situation, there will always be a silver lining,' Song Wen warned himself internally.

Once he cleared his mind, a faint smile surfaced on his face. This time, it wasn't entirely forced; he genuinely believed that if he proceeded with absolute caution, step by step, he would eventually find a breakthrough.

"It is nothing. My cultivation has been hitting a few snags lately, so I am merely feeling a bit anxious," Song Wen fabricated smoothly.

"The path of cultivation is long and arduous. One cannot rush these things," Guo Tao said.

"Thank you for the guidance, Senior Brother Guo. Your junior brother understands," Song Wen replied.

Guo Tao nodded. "Once we complete the stocktaking assignment for the Seven-Color Grass today, we can finally return to the sect."

"Everything shall be done according to Senior Brother Guo's arrangements."

...

To Song Wen's surprise, Yan Zhengping, the Patriarch of the Yan family, actually joined the expedition to oversee the stocktaking personally.

Under Yan Zhengping's lead, a total of nineteen people-three late-stage Qi Refining cultivators and thirteen mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators from the Yan family, along with Song Wen and Guo Tao-boarded a massive vessel.

This ship was clearly custom-built. Runic formations were etched into its hull, allowing it to draw an incredibly shallow draft. It floated lightly upon the water's surface like a weightless leaf.

The water within the Poisonous Miasma Swamp was shallow, barely reaching half a meter deep in certain sections. Only a specialized vessel like this could traverse the marshland. A standard ship would run aground the moment it was launched.

With a flick of his wrist, Yan Zhengping produced a jade vial.

"Come, everyone take a miasma detoxification pill first."

These detoxification pills were a proprietary creation of the Yan family, formulated specifically to combat the local toxic miasma. A single pill could ward off the poison for roughly four hours.

Song Wen accepted his pill and swallowed it without the slightest hesitation.

Under the current circumstances, the Yan family had no reason to kill him. Furthermore, if they truly wanted him dead, they wouldn't need to resort to poison.

He also noticed that among the nineteen people present, the four late-stage Qi Refining cultivators-including Yan Zhengping-did not consume the medicine.

This was because the Yan family's legacy cultivation method was a poison-based technique. Throughout their training, they constantly refined various toxins into their own flesh, granting them a far higher resistance to poisons than ordinary cultivators.

These late-stage Qi Refining cultivators possessed exceptionally profound foundations. Having utilized the local miasma for their cultivation over many years, their physical bodies alone were more than capable of ignoring the swamp's toxicity.

The massive vessel meandered through the sunken forests of the marshland. After traveling for roughly half an hour, the ship finally slowed to a halt.

Along the way, Song Wen silently memorized the route they took.

Fortunately, the jade slip Chen Yi had given him contained a rough topographical map of the swamp, allowing him to maintain a general sense of direction.

He had initially assumed the spirit fields would be located in the heart of the swamp. However, based on his calculations, they were nowhere near the center, but rather situated barely two hundred li from the swamp's outer edge.

The miasma here was thick, but the Spiritual Qi was equally dense, making it an ideal environment for the growth of Seven-Color Grass.

Yet, the spirit fields were completely surrounded by water with no dry land in sight, making the area entirely unsuitable for human habitation. This was likely the reason why the Yan family had not established their main residence nearby.

"Young friends, the spirit fields where we cultivate the Seven-Color Grass lie just ahead," Yan Zhengping announced to Guo Tao and Song Wen.

Looking out, the claustrophobic, sun-blocking canopy of the dense forest suddenly gave way to an expansive, open vista.

A massive stretch of water spanning over a dozen li was completely devoid of trees, a truly peculiar sight. Of course, it was highly probable that trees had once grown here, but the Yan family had systematically cleared them away.

In the center of this open water lay thick mats of vegetation floating on the surface. From a distance, it looked as though a massive green carpet had been rolled out across the water.

This vegetation was a specific breed known as golf-flag grass. Its roots were extraordinarily long, anchoring deep into the mire a meter beneath the surface, while its dense stems and leaves tightly intertwined above the water to form solid, buoyant mats.

The Yan family had meticulously manicured these vast floating fields into organized rows, each measuring one zhang wide and several li long. There were at least a hundred of these floating ridges, with a uniform distance of roughly one zhang separating each row.

Rows upon rows of orderly green mats floated on the water, stretching out until they met the horizon-a truly magnificent spectacle.

Spotted across the floating mats at intervals of one to two meters were vibrant, two-chi-tall spirit plants. These were the Seven-Color Grass.

The Seven-Color Grass behaved like a parasitic spirit plant, surviving entirely by siphoning the Spiritual Qi from the underlying golf-flag grass-a truly miraculous sight.

Plants of various ages were scattered across the floating beds. There were young sprouts under ten years old that exhibited only a single coloration, as well as mature specimens over seventy years old that gleamed with seven distinct hues.

In the absolute center of the spirit fields, Song Wen also noticed a cluster of seven-colored plants whose leaf edges were faintly laced with black veins. Those were undoubtedly the century-old variants.

Yan Zhengping pointed toward the floating ridges ahead, his voice brimming with a touch of pride.

"Guo Tao, Jiyin, take a look. This is the specialized aquatic cultivation field for our Seven-Color Grass. It was built through the arduous, generations-long efforts of my Yan family ancestors, who poured countless materials and lives into its creation."

"The fifty ridges on our left are primarily used to cultivate young spirit grass. Though individual plants lack high value, they make up for it in sheer volume, bringing in a significant annual revenue that cannot be overlooked."

"The forty ridges on the right focus on cultivating seventy-year-old herbs, which are primarily utilized to refine Profound Qi Pills."

"As for the thirty ridges in the center, they are reserved for century-old herbs. However, nurturing a plant to a century is exceedingly difficult. Many wither halfway through the process, resulting in immense losses that render previous efforts entirely futile."

"Furthermore, because the sect regularly harvests a portion of the century-old stock each year, there are currently only 113 century-old herbs remaining in the field."

"Your auditing assignment today will primarily focus on counting the seventy-year-old and century-old herbs. As for those below seventy years, their numbers are simply too vast, making an exact headcount highly impractical."

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