“But wouldn’t that cause the clan to lose a lot of food?”
Chen Xingzhen shook his head slightly. “What sustains a clan is the warriors within it. Ordinary grains, no matter how much, are useless. Only Blood Rice is the most important resource for a clan.”
He paused, letting his words settle before continuing. “Even for Blood Rice, it’s planted by the house slaves every year so that more clansmen can have time to temper their bodies.”
He looked around at the gathered clansmen, each one hanging on his every word. “Although the Liu family is gone now, who knows if another Liu family will emerge from the Chaotic Burial Mountain? The clan should prepare for a rainy day.”
After hearing this, several members of the council fell silent, each lost in thought. Chen Xingzhen observed their reactions, his gaze steady.
For those who had lived near Chaotic Burial Mountain all their lives, it was only natural that their world revolved around it, just as his once did. Even the clan’s Blood Coagulation Realm warriors shared this narrow outlook.
In the past, he might have been content with this limited vision. But the guidance of his elders had broadened his perspective, and now he wanted the same for his people. The Chen clan had the Divine Tree and Blood Rice. Their development shouldn’t be limited to the mountain—they needed to look beyond.
Still, with the clan’s current strength, this ambition was far from realized. Apart from his own efforts, the elders were also influencing the clan through subtle methods, guiding clansmen in dreams. The vision was slowly spreading.
He also harboured other motives beyond mere expansion. Without alliances and goodwill in the villages, where would the clan find suitable young people for marriage?
These same villages would also be a source for household slaves in the future. By aligning the clan’s interests with those of the villagers, the Chen clan’s future path would be smoother.
Chen Xingzhen stared ahead, his eyes gleaming with determination as he imagined the clan’s future. While he couldn’t see every detail, he sensed a growing light illuminating their way forward.
That night, under a bright moon, the Ancestral Hall was peaceful. The inconspicuous locust tree inside was in bloom, its branches and leaves faintly glowing. The clan’s grand ceremony had yet to end, and every day, Ji Yang gained a bit more life force. In only two days, his vitality had surged, breaking through a threshold.
Absorbing moonlight each night, he would soon regain his former state. A message appeared before him:
[Clan member Chen Qinghe has broken through to the mid-stage of the Body Tempering realm, Deduction points +1.]
Ji Yang raised an eyebrow at the unexpected development. Chen Qinghe had advanced faster than anticipated, signifying the clan’s progress. Though the additional simulation was minor, it symbolized growth within the Chen family.
Over the past two days, he had observed Chen Xingzhen’s plans unfold, much of which bore Chen Changming’s influence. If the former clan chief were still alive, development might have stalled.
Now, though, Ji Yang refrained from intervening directly. He wasn’t well-versed in clan-building strategies, and his experience from another world might not apply here. Instead, he focused on strengthening himself and fulfilling his role as the clan’s Divine Tree.
As the moonlight intensified, Yin energy gathered around him, accompanied by confused souls of the recently deceased. Noticing them, Ji Yang recalled the fallen Chen warriors, whose souls drifted near him. Most were warriors from the Liu family. He shattered their souls without hesitation, feeding the fragments to the souls training in his shade.
Only three souls remained—no, two. One soul, weaker than the others, bore a slight flaw. This was the clan member who got too excited and opened his fifth organ. With the clan’s warrior numbers low, Ji Yang reluctantly reincarnated them, summoning three soul-condensed fruits on his branches.
Three days later, the clan harvested Blood Rice, yielding a bounty. Four mu of fertile land produced an average of 700 catties of Blood Rice per mu at a milling rate of 70 percent, giving them roughly 500 catties per mu. With four mu, they gathered about 2,000 catties.
If next year’s blood spring tributaries were managed well, along with the newly acquired spiritual fields from the Liu family, the harvest would multiply. Though the current yield wasn’t vast, Blood Rice could be harvested three times a year, enough to meet the needs of their warriors and leave a surplus.
When clansmen witnessed sacks of Blood Rice filling the granary, a genuine pride blossomed within them. It took two days to complete the harvest, but the hard work made the bounty even sweeter.
“Into the mountains to hunt?” In the Ancestral Hall, Chen Xingzhen raised an eyebrow at Chen Qingyu, who had just voiced his intention.
“Yes. Recently, I’ve felt a stagnation in my Blood and Qi. I can’t progress further without pushing my limits.”
Chen Xingzhen didn’t answer immediately, his gaze calculating. With winter nearing, venturing into Chaotic Burial Mountain was dangerous, especially for someone like Chen Qingyu—the clan’s most promising seed, the first to reach the innate realm. He was essential to the clan’s future.
Not only Chen Xingzhen but the entire clan shared this sentiment. They couldn’t bear to see anything happen to him, and Chen Xingzhen knew he’d have to consider the risks.
More troubling was the likelihood that Chen Qingyu wouldn’t remain on the outskirts.
He’d want to explore deeper, risking encounters with the mountain’s Innate-level green wolves—a far greater threat than the Liu family’s Liu Shengrong. Without the Divine Tree’s protection and its countless green light points, Chaotic Burial Mountain’s dangers multiplied.
But seeing Chen Qingyu’s unwavering determination, Chen Xingzhen realized that stopping him outright wouldn’t work. This boy would venture into the mountains regardless. Resigned, he began to consider the best way to safeguard his precious protégé.