Heir to Shennong

Jiang Chen transmigrates to the Primordial World and becomes a tribal youth with an inferior wood spiritual root. His only support is a battered little cauldron, which hides an acre of spiritual farmland where anything he plants can grow.

He thinks it's just a farming golden finger. Growing herbs, refining pills, building a city, and living in peace all sound great.

That is, until the sword bamboo he planted slays a Golden Core cultivator with one stroke.

Until he finds half a sentence in Shennong's ruins: “I did not die at the hands of my enemies. I died because...”

Until he discovers that beyond Chaos, there is an entity that harvests the Myriad Worlds once every immeasurable kalpa. Shennong stopped it last time at the cost of his life. The next harvest is coming soon.

The Chan Sect wants his cauldron. The Heavenly Court wants his life. The Buddhist Sect says he is destined for the West.

And the little monkey that's always perched on his shoulder has an abyss as ancient as time hidden deep in its eyes.

“No big deal,” Jiang Chen says.

He buries a seed in the soil, while twelve spirit-plant battle servants form ranks behind him.

Farming? Yes. But what he grows can slay Sages.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.