Chapter 1: A Useless Planter Gets a System

Lin Yuan’s eyes snapped open, his mind flooded with a chaotic swirl of foreign memories while the sharp whistle of wind and the drone of insects assaulted his ears. Gasping for air, he realized he was lying beside a pile of discarded junk in Spirit Plant Valley, surrounded by overgrown weeds that hung thick with the smell of rot and damp earth.

A translucent, pale blue interface shimmered into view before his eyes, displaying four bold characters that blazed with impossible clarity: All-Things Cultivation System. Lin Yuan rubbed his aching temples. Shock rippled through him, but it was swiftly drowned out by a profound, uncharacteristic calm that settled over his senses.

He scrutinized the glowing text, confirming the impossible truth: he had truly transmigrated into this world of cultivators, inhabiting the body of the despoused trash Spirit Planter. The system’s interface was starkly minimalist, devoid of any verbose tutorials. Instead, three core function modules pulsed with a quiet, steady light.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to accept the new reality. His gaze dropped to the withered root of the spirit herb that Zhao Feng had crushed, and the wave of helplessness that had just crashed over him was rapidly overwritten by cold, calculated logic.

Lin Yuan extended a finger and tapped the void, interacting with the system. The pale blue light coalesced into streams of minute data. Reading through the functional notes, he saw that the “Mutation Catalysis” feature required a specific spirit liquid as a catalyst, while the “Market Evaluation” tool could display real-time estimated auction prices for medicinal materials, precise down to the last low-grade spirit stone.

The ability to exploit this market arbitrage sent a jolt through his heart. In this late-dharma era, where ambient spiritual energy was scarce, money and resources were the bedrock of survival. The system’s exclusive information advantage was like lighting a lantern in the darkness.

He lifted his head to gaze at the distant main peak, its summit shrouded in swirling clouds. That was the sect’s core, the domain where every prodigy in the realm gathered. A faint, nearly imperceptible curve of amusement tugged at Lin Yuan’s lips. Since heaven had bestowed a system, he would no longer be a victim waiting for the knife. He stood up, brushing dirt from his clothes, his eyes now holding a depth and restrained intensity that belied his age.

*Boom—*

The heavy wooden door was violently kicked open, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Zhao Feng strode into the trash courtyard, flanked by two retainers. Clad in the blue robes of an Inner Gate disciple, his sword still sheathed at his waist, he exuded arrogance, his gaze dripping with contempt and disgust.

Lin Yuan did not flinch. He remained standing in the corner, letting Zhao Feng’s sharp stare slice across his face like a blade. Zhao Feng stopped, tapping the air with a folding fan, his tone dripping with condescending mockery.

Zhao Feng sneered, “Lin Yuan, I hear you’ve been slacking off again? Did you finish the tasks the Valley Head assigned you?”

Lin Yuan kept his head lowered, his voice flat and quiet. “Senior Brother Zhao, I was tending to the medicinal fields. I had just finished turning the soil.”

Zhao Feng flicked the fan, waving the dust away with a look of pure revulsion. “Hmph, tending to the fields? I bet you were having a chat with the weeds instead. A waste of breath is a waste of breath. If you can’t even maintain a spirit field, it’s no surprise you’re about to lose your Outer Gate disciple status.”

Lin Yuan offered no defense. He merely observed Zhao Feng’s movements in silence, mentally cataloging every arrogant detail. The folding fan bore the engraved character “Lingyun,” a gift from Zhao Feng’s father, the clan head, serving as a flashy badge of the powerful backing he possessed.

Lin Yuan noticed a fresh scratch on Zhao Feng’s right index finger, a mark left by tearing a restriction cloth strip. It indicated that his emotional state had been unstable recently. This detail was crucial for Lin Yuan; it would be a chip in his pocket for the eventual counterattack.

Gripping his hands into fists, Lin Yuan let his nails dig into his palms. The sharp pain kept him grounded, yet his face betrayed nothing, maintaining an air of submissive obedience as if he were desperately stifling the humiliation burning inside him.

Seeing Lin Yuan’s lack of reaction, Zhao Feng got even more worked up. He stepped forward and used the spine of his fan to pry Lin Yuan’s chin up, forcing him to make eye contact.

Zhao Feng spat in disgust. “What’s with the dead act? Let me make this clear: your qualification as a Spirit Plant disciple has been revoked. From today on, you’re nothing but a menial servant in this valley. If you so much as touch a spirit herb again, I’ll shatter your dantian!”

Forced to look up, a flash of coldness briefly flickered in Lin Yuan’s eyes before he dropped his gaze again, forcing a bitter smile onto his lips. “Yes. Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother Zhao. Lin Yuan would never dare harbor such delusions.”

Satisfied, Zhao Feng tucked away his fan and turned to his retainers. “Search for that unfinished seedling he has. I recall he claimed a low-tier Clearing Heart Grass last month. If he’s hoarding it, he’s on his own.”

The two retainers immediately lunged forward, roughly rummaging through Lin Yuan’s clothes and storage pouch. Amidst the chaos, a vibrant green seedling was yanked out. It was Lin Yuan’s last shred of hope—a mundane Clearing Heart Grass seedling, yet it was his only anchor in this desperate situation. Zhao Feng snatched it, held it to his nose, and a mocking smile curled his lips.

Zhao Feng toyed with the seedling in his hand. “Hah, is this what you treated like a treasure? A low-tier Clearing Heart Grass. It’s not even fit for a spirit beast to chew on. Take it and get out of Spirit Plant Valley. Don’t let your presence dirty my eyes.”

Watching his seedling get stolen, Lin Yuan felt resentment rising like a tidal wave. It wasn’t mere anger; it was the deep, crushing indignation of being trampled. He stared intently at the plant in Zhao Feng’s hand, his jaw clenched tight, the suppressed emotion in his body hitting a critical threshold.

At that exact moment, the pale blue screen in his mind flickered violently. A red alert popped up: Detecting strong negative emotions from host. Emotion Resonance mechanism activated. Converting resentment into fertility...

Zhao Feng did not notice the shift in Lin Yuan’s eyes; he assumed the trash was just putting on another show. He casually tossed the seedling to Lin Yuan’s feet and turned back to his retainers. “Are you done gawking? If you want to watch, keep staring. Just don’t dirty my artifacts.”

Lin Yuan crouched down and picked up the seedling. The instant his fingers touched the spirit herb, a strange warmth surged from his palm into his body. This was the unique fertility created by the system after absorbing his resentment. A countdown began ticking on the glowing screen: Ten... Nine... Eight...

The spirit herb grew with a manic, almost violent speed. The once-stunted plant shot upward, its leaves shifting from pale green to a deep, rich purple, their edges shimmering with a crystalline glow. The air grew thick, and a potent, exotic fragrance spread outward. Even the retainers standing behind Zhao Feng couldn’t help but take deep breaths, their eyes wide with surprise.

Zhao Feng whirled around, his pupils shrinking. “What... what is happening?”

He rushed forward, seizing Lin Yuan’s wrist and slamming him to the ground. With his other hand, he gripped the now-matured high-tier Heavenly Spirit Herb. The plant radiated a soft purple light, its spiritual aura leaking into the surroundings, clearly marking it as a premium quality medicinal. Zhao Feng’s expression shifted from shock to greed, a calculating glint entering his eyes.

Zhao Feng grinned savagely. “So you trash can actually grow herbs of this caliber? Good. Since you can’t even do a servant’s job, this herb belongs to me. I’ll take the credit for it, understood?”

Lin Yuan didn’t struggle. He simply stared at Zhao Feng coldly while calling up the system’s Market Evaluation function. The screen instantly displayed the estimated price for this Heavenly Spirit Herb: nine thousand low-grade spirit stones, with auction houses in urgent need for it to refine high-tier pills, meaning a massive profit margin.

This meant Zhao Feng hadn’t just stolen a herb; he had stolen Lin Yuan’s future source of massive wealth. Lin Yuan let out a cold chuckle internally, while his face remained placid, even putting on an expression of helpless resignation.

Lin Yuan spoke in a low voice. “Senior Brother Zhao, this is property of the sect. Personally seizing it... might violate the sect’s regulations.”

Zhao Feng dismissed the warning with a lazy wave of his hand. “Shut up! A stripped-down piece of trash like you dares quote sect rules at me? Whatever Zhao Feng wants, no one can take away. This herb was found on your person, so it belongs to me. I’ll offer it to the Elders, trade it for some pills, and call it a modest contribution to the sect.”

Lin Yuan fell silent again, quietly recording Zhao Feng’s statement. Illegitimately seizing a large amount of sect resources was a capital offense. He watched Zhao Feng smugly stuff the herb into his storage pouch, then turn and stride away, his gait light and breezy as if he’d just found a bag of loose change.

The two retainers followed respectfully, occasionally glancing back at Lin Yuan with contempt that was even deeper than Zhao Feng’s.

Only when Zhao Feng’s figure vanished through the doorway did Lin Yuan slowly rise to his feet. His gaze lingered on the soil stains left by the herb, a flicker of doubt surfacing in his mind. The system’s Emotion Resonance process had been too fast, and during the growth phase, the root system seemed to have undergone a mutation.

He called up the system again, carefully comparing the growth data. The roots of the herb displayed a bizarre, grayish-black hue, rather than the normal purple-red tone.

Lin Yuan frowned. “Abnormal root system?”

The screen flashed, and a line of small text appeared: [Detected unstable resentment fluctuation from host. Caused internal structural deviation in the spirit herb, resulting in a “Counterfeit Variant.” Appearance is identical to the genuine article, but efficacy is reduced by thirty percent, with a hidden identification marker.]

Lin Yuan’s heart tightened. Zhao Feng believed he had stolen a prize, but he had actually acquired a Counterfeit Variant—a product that looked luxurious but had significantly diminished value. The moment Zhao Feng tried to present it to the Elders for credit, or when it reached the auction house and was inspected by experts, the result would be a catastrophic loss of credibility and severe punishment.

Meanwhile, Lin Yuan could use this window of time to prepare a genuine spirit medicinal and wait for the exact moment Zhao Feng’s cover was blown.

In the distance, Zhao Feng’s loud voice carried on the wind: “Hurry up! I’m taking this Heavenly Spirit Herb to see the Elders! Hahaha, Lin Yuan the trash, see if you can act tough now!”

Lin Yuan watched Zhao Feng’s retreating figure, a cold smile slowly forming on his lips. He knew the storm was coming, and he had already made himself ready to face it. The wind swept through the dilapidated trash courtyard, rustling the fallen leaves, tugging at the hem of Lin Yuan’s robe, and stirring the fate of Spirit Plant Valley, which was about to change forever.