I Prove Eternal Life in the Cultivation World with a Workbench

The last thing Chen Yan did before transmigrating was send three thousand yuan to a free software developer.

A flash of white, and when he opened his eyes again, he had become the youngest son of the third branch of the Chen family in Qinghe County. When he was five, memories of his previous life returned. He had been a small business owner processing agricultural products, good at calculating costs, tracking waste, and drawing up contracts that let everyone save face.

When he was fourteen, demonic cultivators slaughtered the city, leaving him without parents. Carrying half a page of a broken cultivation manual and a cracked wooden token, he slipped into Lingxu Valley, a sect on the verge of collapse under the burden of its land rents.

The sect assigned him five acres of barren fields. The spiritual veins had run dry, the soil was hard and compacted, and all three previous tenants had run off.

Chen Yan squatted on the field ridge and spent the whole afternoon doing the math: six shi of harvest, four shi in rent, and five spirit stones for seeds and fertilizer.

Plant one crop, and he would lose a spirit stone.

Then he simply couldn't limit himself to farming!

He ground grain into flour, made pastries, brewed wine, grew mushrooms, composted, and repaired irrigation channels, splitting each shi of spiritual grain into three products to sell. Three years later, half the spiritual pastries in Qingwu Market came from his workshop. Before long, land rent, monthly stipends, and market commissions all had to pass through his ledger first.

But once barren fields became valuable, people came to set their sights on them.

In a place where might made right, Chen Yan planned to make sure everyone owed him a debt first.