24: Chapter 24 Purple Gold Ginseng

The third item was a jade box.

It was carved from white jade and was a circle larger than a palm.

Between the lid and the box body was an extremely fine gap, with a thin trace of Spiritual Qi remaining on the edges of the gap.

That was a Seal Restriction, though not of a high grade.

After passing through unknown years of erosion, the Spiritual Qi within the Restriction had completely dissipated, leaving only a faint trace, like the last bit of water stains on a dried-up riverbed.

Jiang Yan opened the jade box.

The inside of the box was lined with a layer of dark red velvet.

Lying on the cloth was a ginseng.

The ginseng body was about the length of an adult's forearm, entirely purple-gold in color, with fine ring patterns on its surface, one after another, extending from the head of the ginseng all the way to the tail.

Each ring pattern represented one year of medicinal age—Jiang Yan scanned it with his Divine Sense, and it was at least two hundred years old.

The roots were dense, with dozens of long and short strands spreading out like an old man's beard.

However, most of the roots had already broken off.

The broken ends were both old and new.

The oldest broken ends had already dried up and turned black, with the cross-sections shriveled inward and the edges curled up.

The medicinal juice at the new broken ends had already dried, and the color had changed from purple-gold to dark brown.

Judging from the antiquity of the broken ends, the most recent one was cut decades ago, and those oldest cuts were likely from over a hundred years ago.

Purple Gold Ginseng. A Low Grade Spirit Medicine.

This was the first Spirit Medicine in the true sense that Jiang Yan had seen since his Rebirth.

It was not a semi-Spirit Medicine, not the kind with ambiguous medicinal power that wavered between spiritual and non-spiritual—it was a Spirit Medicine that had entered a grade and could be recognized by the cultivation world.

The function of the Purple Gold Ginseng was very direct. Replenish Qi, nourish blood, and extend life.

To a Mortal, it was a precious medicine for sustaining life.

If someone in the Family was critically ill, cutting off a few roots and boiling them into a soup to feed them could pull a person back from the gates of hell.

To a Cultivator, it was one of the dozen or so main ingredients that could be used to refine a peiyuan pill.

The peiyuan pill was the most basic Medicinal Pill for a Cultivator in the Qi Refinement Stage; one pill was worth several months of hard cultivation.

This Purple Gold Ginseng had been used by people as a medicinal ingredient for extending life.

Looking at the number and age of those broken ends, this Family had used it to save lives at least five or six times.

Every time someone in the Family was critically ill, they would cut off a few roots.

But they had never touched the main body of the ginseng.

It was not because they did not know that the main body had stronger medicinal power.

The main body was right there; the purple-gold ginseng body was plump and round, and anyone could see that it contained good things.

But every time they only cut the roots, carefully avoiding the main body, as if they had deliberately bypassed the roof beam while digging the foundation.

Jiang Yan's fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the jade box, his knuckles knocking against the white jade, emitting a very light and crisp sound.

His Divine Sense penetrated the floor tiles and soil layer, perceiving the movements in the house above.

In the side room behind the main hall, the slightly chubby youth from the daytime was sleeping spread-eagled.

The quilt was kicked off halfway, one leg was resting outside the edge of the bed, and his pant leg was rolled up to his knee.

The snoring was not loud, a "hu—hu—" sound, occurring every few breaths.

A trace of saliva hung from the corner of his mouth, and a small patch of the pillow was soaked.

In the east side room lived a middle-aged couple.

The man was lying on his side, one hand resting on the woman's waist, his fingers occasionally twitching, as if he were dreaming of something.

The woman was lying on her back, breathing steadily, her brows slightly furrowed, not knowing what she was thinking about in her dream.

In the west side room lived an old woman with white hair.

She was not asleep.

When Jiang Yan's Divine Sense swept over, she was leaning against the head of the bed, holding a string of Buddhist beads in her hand, her lips moving, counting them one by one.

The Buddhist beads were made of wood, the lacquer on the surface had been worn away, revealing the whitish wood inside.

She counted to the one hundred and eighth bead, then started over, her movements slow and steady.

There were only these four people in the entire house.

Plus the old servant at the door who was still dozing off.

There were no guards.

No Martial Artist.

There was no defensive power whatsoever.

The master of this Family held a fifth-rank official title, yet they did not live affluently.

In the secret room, apart from these three things passed down from their ancestors, there was nothing else.

There was no gold or silver, no calligraphy or paintings, and no land deeds.

Even the secret room itself was pitifully simple—walls built of green bricks, rammed earth floors, not even paved with a layer of stone slabs.

A Family residence that had produced a Cultivator should not be so shabby; this must have been moved into later by one of their ancestors.

Jiang Yan's hand was already pressed on the floor tile at the exit of the secret room.

He did not move.

His fingers pressed against the cold edge of the floor tile, feeling the rough sand grains on the surface of the brick.

Above the stone steps, under the offering table, wind blew in from the cracks in the house's door, carrying the scent of dead leaves from the old locust tree in the courtyard.

A kind of emotion he had rarely experienced in his past life spread through his chest.

It was not guilt.

In his three hundred years of Demonic Cultivator life in his past life, killing people and seizing treasures was like drinking water and eating food.

Of the Magical Artifacts, Medicinal Pills, and Jade Slips piled up in his Immortal Cave, how many were not seized from others' hands?

He had never felt guilt.

The weak are prey to the strong; it is the natural law.

In the cultivation world, there is no right or wrong, only strength and weakness.

It was not pity.

The blushing, trembling, and clenched fists of that slightly chubby youth when he was mocked at the restaurant—he had seen it, remembered it, but did not care.

The weak being mocked, just like the weak being plundered, was the norm in the cultivation world.

Pity could not change anything; it would only make one's blade slower.

It was an indescribable feeling of discomfort.

Like an extremely fine thorn stuck in the skin.

It did not hurt, but you knew it was there.

You could not pull it out, and you could not ignore it.

This body's seventeen years of Mortal memories emitted a faint sound from somewhere deep within.

It was not words, not thoughts, just a feeling—like an undercurrent beneath the water's surface, invisible, but one could feel it moving.

Jiang Yan withdrew his hand from the floor tile.

He reopened the jade box.

The Purple Gold Ginseng lay quietly on the dark red velvet.

The ginseng body was plump, and the purple-gold skin emitted a very faint halo in the darkness.

The roots were spread out, long and short, with broken ends of varying ages.

He cut off five more complete roots.

The blade slid along the edge of the ginseng body, the cut was smooth, and the purple-gold juice seeped out from the cut, the medicinal fragrance assaulting his nose.

He placed these five newly cut roots back into the box and arranged them with the old roots.

The jade box was closed.

He turned around, facing the blank wall in the secret room.

Spiritual Qi surged from his fingertips, carving the first stroke on the wall.

Stone powder fell down with a rustling sound.

He carved stroke by stroke, the handwriting was neat, and the arrangement was orderly.

The first section was the Qi Refining chapter of the "Hunyuan Technique".

The first sentence of the opening— "The method of cultivation is to induce Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi into the body, transform it into Spiritual Qi, and transcend the mundane."

Next was the complete formula and the route map for circulating Qi.

From Qi Induction into the body to the ninth level of Qi Refining, every step of the Meridian pathways, the method of transporting Spiritual Qi, and the way the Dantian operated were all carved onto it.

The "Hunyuan Technique" belonged to the common methods; it was upright and peaceful, did not distinguish between Spiritual Root attributes, and anyone could Cultivate it.

The disadvantage was that the cultivation speed was slow, and the power in combat was also average.

If there were any descendants in this Family with a Spiritual Root, by cultivating according to this formula, they would at least be able to step into the door of cultivation.

After finishing carving the "Hunyuan Technique", Jiang Yan paused, shook off the stone powder sticking to his fingers.

Then he continued to carve the second section.

"Qingxuan Technique".

This was not a Cultivation Technique for Immortals, but a martial art.

Internal Skill Mind-Cultivation Technique, complete Internal Energy circulation routes, from entry to Xiantian Perfection.

The Breakthrough points for each level, the methods for expanding Meridians, and the techniques for compressing Internal Energy were all carved on it.

Cultivating to the extreme could reach Xiantian Perfection.

The third section followed closely behind—the "Thirteen Heaven-Breaking Swords".

Sword technique diagrams.

Thirteen little figures holding swords, the strokes were concise, but every posture was drawn clearly.

Each move was accompanied by a formula—where to stab with this sword, how to turn the wrist, how to coordinate the footsteps, and how to infuse Internal Energy.

Thirteen swords, each one fiercer than the last, specialized in breaking hard-training kung fu.

These two martial arts were obtained by Jiang Yan in his past life from a Loose Cultivator Martial Artist.

That Loose Cultivator, relying on these two sets of techniques, had made quite a name for himself in the Mortal Martial Forest, but later, not knowing the immensity of heaven and earth, went to challenge a Cultivator in the Qi Refinement Stage and was burned to ashes by a Fireball Technique.

The techniques fell into the hands of that Cultivator, and later fell into the hands of Jiang Yan.

To a Cultivator, this was trash.

To a Mortal, this was a peerless divine skill.

If there were no Spiritual Roots among the descendants of this Family, they could at least rely on these two martial arts to establish a foothold in the Mortal world.

After carving the last character, Jiang Yan withdrew his fingers.

The wall was densely carved with characters and diagrams, from top to bottom, from left to right, occupying the entire wall.

A thin layer of stone powder had accumulated on the ground.

He moved the offering table back to its original position.

The floor tiles were closed, without clearing the traces of them having been pried open.

Subsequently, he vaulted over the courtyard wall and disappeared into the night of Willow Leaf Lane.