Dragon Boat Secret Realm 11: Harvest

The plan on Songtao Island was straightforward, divided into three steps.

First, fabricate a mid-Foundation Establishment ally and feed consistent information through the mole to make this ally seem real and threatening.

Second, use three bursts of Foundation Establishment-level sword qi to force the Hefeng Sect to fuse their highest cultivator quickly, ideally pushing their cultivation as high as possible.

Finally, devise a way to lure this high-level cultivator far away—thousands of li—using a teleportation trap, then harvest the island’s spiritual herbs and leave before they return.

The plan’s success hinged on convincing the Hefeng Sect that a formidable high-level cultivator existed. Su Qing ensured the mole sent vague but believable messages.

Words alone weren’t enough; tangible proof, like Foundation Establishment aura, was needed—something Su Qing couldn’t provide. Fortunately, Songtao Island’s diverse group pooled resources.

A Medicine King Valley disciple, whose family was cautious, had brought three stored sword qi strikes of early Foundation Establishment strength, perfect for the task.

After meticulous planning and multiple rehearsals on Songtao Island, they estimated a success rate above fifty percent. As the Nine Heavens Spirit Grass neared maturity, they launched their all-or-nothing assault on Biyun Island.

Miraculously, it worked.

Ji Xingjian was lured away, leaving the Hefeng Sect stunned.

Where was their mighty Foundation Establishment cultivator? How did he vanish instantly? What secret technique was used?

Ji Xingjian hadn’t gone alone—he took most of the island’s cultivation strength with him. The remaining Hefeng disciples, now weakened, couldn’t resist Songtao Island’s forces.

Pei Feijie, Xie Ying, and others swiftly subdued the Hefeng Sect’s two remaining late Qi Refining cultivators. With no other notable fighters, the tide turned decisively toward Songtao Island.

The group, pent-up for months, unleashed their frustration in a chaotic melee, exhilarated to finally act.

As orthodox disciples, Su Qing held back from lethal force.

Her fourth-layer Qi Refining made her seem an easy target, and some Hefeng disciples tried to break through her. But they chose poorly. Her celestial silk and Manqing Sword worked in perfect tandem—silk to trap, sword to strike.

Trapped in her web, enemies realized too late they’d been outmaneuvered.

Su Qing struck decisively, a single blow to the neck knocking foes out cold. Soon, no one dared approach her, leaving a clear zone around her. The Hefeng disciples muttered warily: this plain-looking cultivator hit *hard*.

Before long, the Hefeng Sect was entirely subdued, bound, and tossed into a corner under guard.

Next was Xuangfeng Pavilion. With fewer numbers and weaker cultivation, they’d relied on the Hefeng Sect. Now, with their allies down, they fell effortlessly.

The battle reversed in moments. As the Hefeng Sect was crushed, they realized, “The mole betrayed *us*? We were played!”

But Songtao Island’s cultivators had no time to gloat. Their focus was on the glowing spirit field.

Under the dim moonlight, with stars faded, the field shone brightly. The nearly mature Nine Heavens Spirit Grass quivered in the breeze, its red hue—save for a hint of green at the tips—like a fire igniting the night.

Its fragrance wafted, spiritual light glimmering, as small insects buzzed around.

Tang Yu pinched himself. “Nine Heavens Spirit Grass—it’s real!”

“So much! We’re rich!”

Wo Ziping knelt, tasting the soil—earthy, slightly sour, with a sweet finish. “Such fertile land,” he marveled. “This field was man-made. Some senior planted these seeds—it’s perfect for the grass.”

Su Qing inhaled deeply, the fragrance soothing her spiritual veins, bringing calm.

The hard work was done. Now, they waited for the grass to fully mature, for that last green tip to turn red.

Waiting was agonizing, especially after the intense battle, with adrenaline still pumping. The more they cared, the more impatient they grew. The grass matured on its own schedule, heedless of their anxiety.

After months of planning and great cost, they feared a sudden disruption could ruin everything.

Restless, Tang Yu glanced around for someone to talk to, but everyone’s tense expressions silenced him.

The atmosphere was heavy.

Su Qing, cooled by the night breeze, pondered. The grass needed time to ripen—should they just sit here?

Her body could handle the cold, but a hot cup of spiritual tea would be divine.

With the situation settled, she had water, tea leaves, and fire crystal stones in her storage bag. Why not brew tea?

She set to work, pulling out her tea-making gear.

Su Qing admired her own quirks. She trained diligently and didn’t fuss over material comforts, but she couldn’t fully abstain from mortal pleasures like food and drink. She wasn’t one to skimp on her palate.

She *needed* this tea.

An expert at brewing, her movements were swift and silent. She filled a small stove with fire crystals, added a wire mesh, and placed a teapot atop it. Clear spring water went in, lifting the tea leaves, tinting the water a warm hue.

Infused with spiritual energy, the fire crystals heated up. Soon, the teapot steamed, water bubbling. She discarded the first two brews, keeping the third—a tempting pale amber.

Time to stop the heat.

Su Qing lifted the lid, adding viscous wild honey. Instantly, floral and tea aromas mingled with the steam, promising exquisite flavor.

Her skills hadn’t faded.

She set out cups, cheerfully pouring honeyed tea.

From the moment she started, everyone stared, shocked at her calm. As she unhurriedly brewed and poured, their shock turned to numbness.

Ling Xiaorui gaped. “Aren’t you nervous? What if something goes wrong? My heart’s pounding—I just want to grab the grass and run.”

Tang Yu clutched his chest. “Exactly! Thinking back, that plan was full of holes. Lucky the Hefeng Sect fell for it. Were we too smart, or were they too dumb?”

Xie Ying, inhaling the tea’s aroma, felt oddly grounded. Su Qing’s composure steadied her.

A teammate like Su Qing was a treasure—bold yet meticulous, reliable. Missions with her would be a breeze.

Once the tea cooled slightly, Su Qing said, “What’s the use of worrying? It won’t make the grass ripen faster. Waiting is waiting—might as well eat and drink well, recharge.”

“Makes sense,” Xie Ying agreed. “Give me a cup. Let’s see your skills.”

Su Qing grinned confidently. “You’re in for a treat.”

With Xie Ying breaking the ice, sharing tea flowed easily. As Su Qing said, a hot cup in hand on a dewy night was pure bliss.

Wo Ziping sipped, surprised. “This honey bud spiritual tea is rare. Where’d you get it, Su Daoyou? I’ll buy some for Medicine King Valley.”

Su Qing admired his expertise. He was right—this tea was scarce. She’d gotten it from her supplier, Honey Spirit Tea, as a holiday gift to maintain their business tie.

Medicine King Valley drank, and Kaishan Helm followed, easing earlier tensions. The warm tea smoothed over past disputes.

Pei Feijie spoke up. “This tea’s got character. I heard Tianque City’s Honey Spirit Tea is famous, but the line’s too long, and I’m impatient. Never got to try it.”

Sword Sect disciples exchanged glances, chuckling. Ling Xiaorui boomed, “You’re in luck! Su Daoyou *owns* Honey Spirit Tea! It’s top-notch, only at Sword Sect and Tianque City. You’d miss out not trying it before leaving.”

Pei Feijie hadn’t expected Su Qing’s side venture. A tea shop wasn’t huge, but it earned spirit stones, and her low-key demeanor belied her capability.

Su Qing smiled at him. “After the secret realm, come find me. I’ll treat you to tea.”

In the moonlight, she looked ordinary, but Pei Feijie sensed a quiet strength in her.

The tea made the long night bearable. It wasn’t just the drink but the normalcy it brought, easing taut nerves.

After two rounds, dawn broke, clouds thinning. The sunrise spilled golden-red hues across Biyun Island’s mirror-like sea, a breathtaking sight.

Su Qing, dew on her hair and clothes, gazed at the water-sky blend, a smile tugging at her lips. Despite growing used to the secret realm, its natural beauty still captivated her.

As the sun rose, spiritual mist over the field condensed into pearls, dew swirling into a vortex. The grass’s fire attribute surged with its fragrance, colliding with the pearls to form a misty rain.

Nourished, the grass’s leaves unfurled, their tips turning vibrant red.

The Nine Heavens Spirit Grass was fully mature!

Time to roll up sleeves and work. Su Qing deferred to Medicine King Valley’s expertise for harvesting. With her lead, no one objected.

Wo Ziping had explained earlier: mature grass could be harvested, but some must be left as seeds for the next secret realm cycle, or future generations would suffer.

Cultivators understood not to exhaust resources. The proposal was unanimously approved.

Wo Ziping had detailed how to harvest without damaging potency and assigned areas. Once the grass ripened, they dove in.

Fearing delays, they worked furiously. In about half an hour, the grass was harvested as planned.

Distribution was pre-agreed, based on contribution. Su Qing, for devising the plan and using two rare wooden fish, took ten percent. Xie Ying, Pei Feijie, Ling Xiaorui, Liang Ji, and the disciple who provided the sword qi shared forty percent. The remaining fifty percent was split among the rest.

Harvesting and dividing took just an hour.

Clutching their storage bags, everyone beamed—worth it after months of scheming and enduring on Songtao Island.

Su Qing counted two hundred stalks of Nine Heavens Spirit Grass—a fortune in spirit stones or task points.
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While Songtao Island rejoiced, the Hefeng Sect seethed, bound like cocoons, helpless. Ji Xingjian, far away, couldn’t return for days, leaving them to swallow their loss.

Cultivators knew the dangers of flaunting wealth. After dividing the grass, they parted ways without fanfare, leaving Biyun Island immediately.

Pei Feijie saluted Su Qing. “I’ll find you for tea after the secret realm.”

After the night’s battle, he quietly admired her. Though her cultivation was low, her potential was vast.

As he led Kaishan Helm away, Wo Ziping and Medicine King Valley bid farewell to the Sword Sect, promising a reunion outside.

Su Qing, surprised by their salute, realized she’d gained more than grass—friendships and respect.

When Xie Ying approached, Su Qing laughed. “Same sect, and you’re saying goodbye?”

Xie Ying shook her head. “Not goodbye—I’m inviting you to join us. What’s your next plan? If none, come to Jiaosha Island for body-refining herbs. They’d help your cultivation.”

Tempted, Su Qing declined. “I came for the seabed spirit mines, so I’ll stay on Biyun Island a bit longer. Don’t want to delay you.”

Xie Ying was disappointed but understood—time was precious in the secret realm. She warned, “Be careful. If the Hefeng Sect breaks free, they might act. Ji Xingjian could return, and facing him would be trouble.”

Su Qing thanked her, confident in her Breath Concealment Technique and caution. As for Ji Xingjian, her map showed Daylight Island was hundreds of islands away. Even if he returned, she’d be deep in the seabed mines, hard to find. And would he even bother?

…

Ji Xingjian faced his life’s greatest setback.

Born to a prominent family and trained in the prestigious Hefeng Sect, he’d been pampered by kin and mentors. Gifted, he outshone peers before adulthood.

The Hefeng Sect, despite its “Hedonist Sect” nickname, wasn’t chaotic. Its fusion technique required close bonds among disciples, as distrust hindered shared spiritual energy.

Ji Xingjian’s life had been smooth until this secret realm. Arrogant and rash, he fell into a trap, letting down his sect.

The shame could haunt him for years, but fate gave no time for regret. Landing on Daylight Island, he faced two hostile forces.

Both were trouble. One was a blatant evil cultivator, her sinister techniques unmasked—proof of moral decay. The other seemed innocent but reeked of demonic qi, either from demonic blood or corruption—neither trustworthy.

His sister and Master had warned: evil and demonic cultivators harm the world. Kill them on sight.

But alone against two groups, who to tackle first?

Before he could decide, the evil cultivator struck first, forcing his hand.

His mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation, though borrowed, matched her early Foundation Establishment strength. But her real power and vicious techniques were overwhelming.

She wasn’t an easy foe. Ji Xingjian shelved his arrogance, recognizing this as a fight for survival.

Luckily, the demonic cultivator allied with him—enemy of my enemy, perhaps. He didn’t trust her, planning to deal with her next. Demonic cultivators were incompatible with the orthodox path.

His bravado faltered. The evil cultivator was too strong, with combat instincts surpassing his and a Golden Core-level robe. Only his sect’s powerful treasures kept him competitive, avoiding a one-sided beatdown.

Finally, risking his cultivation, he gravely wounded her. She fled decisively. But he was badly injured, his borrowed power fading, dropping him to mid-Qi Refining.

He recalled his vow: kill the evil cultivator, then the demonic one.

Despite his weakened state, he outclassed the demonic cultivator, now at early Qi Refining. An easy win, even with her allies.

His defiant gaze froze.

Clutching his bleeding chest, spitting blood, he stammered, “Why is there a peak Qi Refining *donkey*?!”

Why was a donkey stronger than him?

How could he fight? A genius like him, felled by a donkey’s hooves?

Humiliated for lifetimes!

As he spiraled, Old Black rolled its eyes, stood from feigning death, and brayed harshly.

*You’re* the donkey—your whole family’s donkeys! Have some taste.

It was a *mule*!
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