Gardener of Eden

Chapter 168: Chapter 168: Across the Ocean

In the high-altitude misty sanctuaries of the Ding Dynasty, deep within an ancient lotus-carved research pavilion, Master Cultivator Tian Yu stood before a sealed, runically stabilized stasis container.

The vessel held an arrangement of Eden International’s produce—including Starlight Sun-Tomatoes, Aether-Thread Wheat, and Ignis-Bloom Sweet Peppers—procured through high-level diplomatic and trade channels across the Pacific.

Beside Tian Yu, three senior dynasty elders and alchemical array masters hovered, their hands trembling slightly as complex jade diagnostic needles swept over the crops. Shimmering spiritual projections filled the hall, displaying cellular breakdowns and mana purity readings that defied every fundamental law of modern agriculture.

”It’s impossible...” the head array master whispered, his voice shaking. ”There is zero environmental mana corruption and no chaotic mutation artifacts. The life energy locked inside these crops isn’t just clean—it mirrors the uncorrupted vitality of primordial leylines from the ancient age.”

Tian Yu leaned over the silver tray, picking up one of the glowing fruits. As his deep cultivation mana seeped through the skin, his eyes narrowed sharply.

He had spent decades in solitary meditation, using ancestral formations and spirit springs to coax his near-S-grade Golden Ginseng and Celestial Snow Lotus toward perfection.

Yet here, in standard commercial produce harvested by a newly awakened Western cadet, was a level of structural harmony and unyielding life force that threatened to eclipse his life’s work.

Where Gabriel Bernard relied on French soil heritage and culinary exclusivity, Rowan Vance was mass-producing divine vitality as if it were everyday grain.

A large frown deepened across Tian Yu’s face as he set the fruit back on the tray, his brow furrowing in grim realization.

This Rowan is more of a threat than the French, he thought to himself.

***

Tian Yu stood motionless by the carved wooden lattice of the pavilion, his dark eyes gazing past the swirling mountain mist and far across the distant western horizon.

In his mind’s eye, he tried to picture the land that bore such extraordinary produce. What manner of sacred earth lay beneath Sunny Vale?

To yield crops overflowing with such dense, uncorrupted life force without a trace of mana decay defied everything the ancient texts had recorded about western soil.

His thoughts turned briefly to Gabriel Bernard, the heralded French master whose truffles held a near-monopoly on global high-end culinary markets.

Where Gabriel’s techniques relied on delicate terrestrial terroir, seasonal prestige, and meticulous soil chemistry, Rowan Vance operated on an entirely different plane.

Gabriel was a master artisan, but Rowan was cultivating primordial vitality itself. Compared to the western prodigy, the French competitor suddenly felt remarkably ordinary—a far weaker threat than the force rising out of Sol-Aethel.

Turning from the lattice, Tian Yu walked deeper into the rear grounds of his personal sanctuary located in the icy wilderness of Xinjiang.

There, perched along the razor-sharp crags of the Tianshan mountain range at extreme elevations, lay his life’s pride: the grand ancestral cultivation array of the Tianshan Snow Lotus.

The sub-zero wind howled past the mountain peaks, whipping his flowing robes as he stepped onto the frost-dusted stone dais. Beneath the glow of ancient jade formation anchors, a cluster of translucent, ice-crystal lotus petals bloomed slowly in the thin, biting air.

Nurtured by centuries of dynasty heritage, extreme altitude mana, and sacred mountain springs, this snow lotus was his crowning achievement—a masterpiece hovering on the fine edge of S-grade purity.

Yet, as Tian Yu knelt beside the frozen pool and touched a delicate leaf, his fingers felt no surge of triumph. The icy mana of the lotus was pristine, but it lacked the sheer, boundless depth of the primordial life force he had just analyzed from Rowan’s harvest. The truth was bitter, but indisputable.

Standing up against the howling wind, Tian Yu tucked his hands into his sleeves, his breath rising in a long, pale mist. It seems like I am lacking compared to Rowan Vance, he thought quietly to himself, a cold, sharp resolve igniting in his chest as he looked out over the frozen peaks.

***

Deep within the misty, ancient oak groves of the French Frontier, Gabriel Bernard carefully brushed the dark, nutrient-rich soil from a massive, flawless Imperial Black Truffle.

Surrounding him inside climate-controlled stasis vaults were rows of pristine white and black truffles, each radiating a fragrant, dense earth mana refined through centuries of guarded family tradition. As the undisputed Master Truffière of the West, Gabriel held a complete monopoly over global high-society gastronomy, supplying every 3-Michelin-starred establishment across the realms.

His chief trade manager bowed deeply, reviewing the valuation logs on a leather-bound slate with an ecstatic grin.

”Master Gabriel,” the manager reported smoothly, gesturing to the glittering velvet trays. ”The upcoming grand auction in Paris is already drawing aggressive advance bids from sovereign royals, guildmasters, and global culinary conglomerates. Based on our final weight and mana-density assessments, the total yield for this single harvest will easily fetch between 20 to 25 million gold coins.”

Gabriel leaned back against his carved oak desk, swirling a glass of vintage wine with a smug, satisfied smirk. To him, 25 million gold coins was more than just a staggering fortune—it was definitive proof of his unquestioned dominance over the global botanical trade. No other harvester on Earth could command such astronomical prices for raw ingredients.

”Inform the auction houses that starting bids for the white truffle reserves begin at five million per crate,” Gabriel commanded calmly, taking a slow sip. ”Let the world’s elite fight over every gram.”

Savoring his prestige, Gabriel felt completely unshakeable, fully convinced that his prized truffles would secure his dominance at the upcoming Global Awakener’s Tournament. He remained blissfully oblivious that across the ocean in Sol-Aethel, Rowan Vance was actively harvesting primordial domain crops that would soon redefine global purity standards—and render even 25-million-gold truffles second best.

***

A heavy imperial transport container bearing the golden crest of the royal house arrived via direct spatial delivery right on Sunny Vale’s porch. Attached was a brief note from High Command explaining that intelligence operatives had secured authentic, fresh samples of the flagship crops produced by Rowan’s primary international rivals in the upcoming Under-21 division.

Rowan unsealed the cushioned stasis casing, revealing four exquisitely presented items: Gabriel Bernard’s prized white and black truffles rested on silk cushions opposite Tian Yu’s crystalline Tianshan snow lotus and radiant golden ginseng.

Flipping through the attached imperial dossier, Rowan noted their ages with a raised eyebrow. Tian Yu was twenty years old, while Gabriel was just shy of turning twenty-one. Despite their youth, both were already celebrated globally as master harvesters competing in the under-21 category, hailed by international media as absolute botanical prodigies.

Curious to evaluate the world’s highest standard, Rowan picked up Gabriel’s black truffle first. Channeling his Lv. 5 Breath of Eden, he let his refined mana perception sink deep beneath the outer skin.

A look of lingering confusion crossed Rowan’s face, quickly shifting into deep disappointment.

To the average noble or Michelin-starred chef, these truffles and snow lotuses represented the absolute zenith of culinary and spiritual perfection. But through Rowan’s eyes—accustomed to the immaculate, divine purity of [Domain: The Virgin Soil]—the samples were strikingly flawed.

Embedded deep within the cellular matrix of Gabriel’s truffles were subtle, stubborn traces of external mana contamination—heavy mineral residues and harsh atmospheric pollutants absorbed from the open French soil.

Turning his attention to Tian Yu’s snow lotus, Rowan detected clear signs of spiritual stress and artificial forcing caused by over-reliance on aggressive ancestral arrays to stimulate growth at extreme mountain altitudes.

”They’re forcing the mana into the crops rather than letting the earth naturally nourish them,” Rowan muttered quietly, setting the lotuses back onto the silk.

Adjusting the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, Rowan let out a soft, amused exhale. While the rest of the world marveled at these multi-million-gold delicacies, Rowan realized his fiercest competitors were starting from a fundamentally flawed foundation.

Armed with primordial soil and Primordial Spring Water, he wasn’t just competing in the upcoming tournament—he was operating in an entirely different realm.