Reincarnated as a Divine Tree

Seeing the green wolf's unwavering resolve, even his threats proving ineffective, Chen Qingyu's eyes flickered with a trace of surprise. He hadn’t expected this green wolf to have such backbone.

Still, he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. "Your strength is lacking, and sooner or later, your secret will be exposed. When that happens, do you think you’ll still be the Wolf King of your tribe?" 

He took a step closer. "Instead of struggling to survive in these mountains, why not lead your pack and join my Chen clan?" His voice softened, coaxing. "You’ll have all the fresh grass you could ever want, and you’ll still be their king." He let the words sink in. "Think it over carefully and give me an answer tomorrow."

With that, Chen Qingyu turned and strode away. This green wolf was highly intelligent—capable of understanding human speech. Surely, it had its own thoughts on the matter.

If the wolf refused to cooperate, the clan would have no choice but to wipe out the entire pack.

The wolf’s expression remained unreadable as it listened to his words. But at the mention of endless green pastures, a flicker of hesitation crossed its resolute gaze. It quickly suppressed the thought, yet as it pondered further, a trace of helplessness surfaced in its eyes.

It was the Wolf King, yes, and it could command the pack. But if it ordered them to submit, would it still be their king? Would they even obey?

For months, it had grown stronger, smarter. It understood all too well the consequences of resistance. With its pack, it was a ruler. Without them, it was nothing but a lone, weak green wolf—unable even to defeat a Black Gold Beast.

The night deepened, inky and silent.

The green wolf eyed the low walls surrounding it, claws flexing against the dirt. But in the end, it dared not leap over them.

That human was terrifying. It was no match for him.

A chill crawled up its spine. Though nothing stirred, it felt an eerie presence, as if countless unseen eyes were watching from the darkness. Instinctively, it shrank back.

Beyond its line of sight, Chen Changming and several other clan members stood encircling the wolf, scrutinizing it carefully.

"Hmm, a decent physique," one remarked, arms folded. "But its cultivation level is too low."

"Looks like it consumed some rare spiritual herb," another mused. "That’s probably what gave it such high intelligence."

"Grass, though? Eating grass?" A man frowned, tapping his chin. "If all green wolves could survive on grass, that would be ideal. Should we send people to investigate?"

"It won’t be easy," another admitted.

As they observed and discussed, their gazes held an unmistakable interest.

…

The night wind was cool, the ancestral hall glowing faintly under the moon’s silver light.

Ji Yang’s consciousness also lingered, silently watching the extraordinary green wolf.

He had once considered using his divine abilities to awaken beasts, forming a fierce army for the clan. But in the end, he had abandoned the idea.

Now, with the Wolf King’s potential assistance, the clan might truly be able to tame a pack of green wolves. It could become an asset.

However, Ji Yang had no intention of awakening the intelligence of other wolves.

Even if they submitted now, their loyalty would be fragile. Too many uncertainties. Perhaps in the future—but not yet.

For now, he would let the clan handle it on their own.

...

"Greetings, Patriarch!"

"Patriarch!"

In the lush fields, after inspecting the blood rice crops, Chen Xingzhen straightened and surveyed the landscape.

Sunlight bathed the crimson fields, waves of red reflecting like an eerie yet mesmerizing painting. Beautiful in its own right—but not exactly welcoming.

Yet in his eyes, there was only satisfaction.

This harvest was more abundant than the last. The reason? The divine tree’s blessing had granted the clan an extra acre of fertile land to cultivate blood rice.

Beside him, Chen Yihu and Chen Xuanshe trailed closely, overseeing the workers.

Under their leadership, the clan’s laborers had grown adept at tending the crops. With experience from the last season, everything moved smoothly now.

"You’ve done well," Chen Xingzhen acknowledged with a nod.

Chen Xuanshe didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cast a wary glance at Chen Yihu, as if expecting something.

"Thank you, Patriarch," Chen Yihu finally replied before stepping back, silent.

Even as the patriarch left the fields, he remained quiet. Watching him turn away, Chen Xuanshe scratched his head, confused.

Chen Yihu, sensing his puzzlement, smirked faintly. He knew exactly what the other was thinking.

But old tricks no longer worked. He was no longer the man he used to be.

Since returning from Yong’an City, he had been rewarded by the clan. Every day, he received a pound of blood rice to temper his body.

Such treatment had once been reserved only for the clan’s warriors. In just a month, he had felt his vitality surge. His strength was growing. At this rate, he might truly take the next step in martial arts.

According to an ancient, tattered record he had found, this was the time to prove his worth again. But aside from cultivating blood rice, he had yet to find a suitable opportunity.

Still, he believed that opportunities came to those prepared.

And he was ready.

...

"Patriarch, there is someone outside claiming to be from the Shilin clan of Yong’an City. He requests an audience."

Chen Xingzhen had just returned when a clan member came to report.

At the mention of the visitor’s origins, his expression darkened slightly.

Over the past months, all four major families of Yong’an City had sent people to Chaotic Burial Mountain. Though they never openly revealed their identities, the Chen clan had been vigilant, quietly monitoring their activities.

So far, none had acted against them. Some had even set up stalls in the clan’s market, either selling goods from the city or purchasing rare materials from the mountain—such as beast pelts and other specialties.

Jade currency had also begun circulating in the village. But since most villagers lacked valuable goods, bartering remained the primary form of trade.

As for the Shilin clan’s sudden visit, Chen Xingzhen could already guess their intent.

He hesitated briefly but decided to meet with them.

The Shilin clan was one of the four great houses of Yong’an City. In the future, the Chen clan would need to sell blood rice in the city, and the Shilin clan’s Stone Warm Pavilion had an abundance of rare spiritual herbs. Establishing even a basic cooperative relationship wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.

...

"You must be Patriarch Chen."

In the grand hall, a man strode in, his steps confident, a folding fan in hand. He wore a round scholar’s hat, his sharp eyes sweeping across the room.

At the sight of the hall’s modest interior, his brows creased slightly, a flicker of disdain in his gaze.

But when his spiritual sense probed Chen Xingzhen’s cultivation and age, the scorn deepened.

Not even in the Innate Realm.

Chen Xingzhen rose slightly. "I am Chen Xingzhen. And you are?"

The man snapped open his fan, his posture arrogant.

"Shilin clan. Shi Potian."

Chen Xingzhen met his gaze, expression unreadable.

Shi Potianss’s fingers tightened around his fan. A backwater clan—one that didn’t even recognize his name.

How ignorant. Still, he had a mission. Best to get straight to the point.

"I assume you’ve heard of the Shilin clan," he began smoothly. "I’m here today on behalf of my house. We wish to purchase some blood rice. I trust Patriarch Chen would be willing to do business?"

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