C7 Ginseng That Had Taken Shape

"Who do you think you are, you brat? Spewing such drivel in my presence? The Yin-yang Sect is the undisputed premier cultivation sect in the State of Qin, recognized by all! And your Hundred Joys Sect? Nothing but a den of debauchery, with men and women of ill repute, disciples bedding their masters, grandmasters taking disciples as spouses, and mistresses entangled with their students. It's a complete disgrace! And you have the audacity to claim you're the top sect? If we're ranking sects by shamelessness, yours would certainly take the lead!" Chi Yangzi, the old Taoist, thundered with indignant rage.

The girl in the red dress bristled at his words, her delicate features frosted over with anger. She gracefully descended from the tree, landing opposite Chi Yangzi. With a flick of her wrist, a red long sword materialized in her hand, its point aimed directly at him. "You old coot, I'll strip you of your beard and hair, leaving you as bare as a monk," she taunted with a giggle, turning to Feng Yimo. "Wouldn't that be a sight, little brother?"

Feng Yimo observed with clarity that the sword in the girl's grasp had once been the red hairpin adorning her hair. Her locks now cascaded freely, dancing in the breeze, framing her face which bloomed like a lotus. Her lips parted in a bewitching smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Chi Yangzi's anger erupted, and the whisk at his back soared into the air. Hundreds of silken threads burst forth, weaving into a vast white web aimed at ensnaring the girl. She merely scoffed, her palm erect as she struck the base of her sword. The blade burst into a streak of red light, piercing the web of threads which began to smolder and burn with blue smoke.

Chi Yangzi's face paled as he hastily performed a hand seal, attempting to recall his whisk. But it was too late; the whisk was reduced to a charred stub, leaving him clutching a bare stick, much to his dismay. "You dare destroy my precious artifact? Take this!" In a fit of fury, he unsheathed a small sword and, with a flourish, it expanded, cleaving through the air towards the girl's red sword.

Both combatants were at the pinnacle of the second level of Qi Refinement, far outstripping Feng Yimo. The spiritual energy between their two middle-grade spiritual weapons clashed and detonated with ferocity. The resulting shockwave made it impossible for Feng Yimo to keep his footing, forcing him to stagger backward until his retreat was blocked by the courtyard wall. As a first-level Qi Refinement cultivator, he couldn't resist the residual blast of the spiritual energy, much less the ordinary mortals. With the relentless impact of the huge sword against the red sword, the surrounding buildings, flora, and trees suffered greatly. Pavilions crumbled into rubble, trees were uprooted, and flowers and grass were sent swirling into the sky, leaving behind a scene of destruction. Several servants attempting to flee were shredded into bloody remains by the rampant spiritual energy, meeting a gruesome end.

Feng Yimo shook his head in disbelief. Chi Yangzi, the Taoist he had encountered earlier, had spoken of a moral high ground where cultivators must not harm mortals, lest they be pursued and executed by their peers. Yet, what relevance did that hold here? Observing the two absorbed in their duel, he employed the Wall Piercing Technique to make his escape.

"They have their quarrel, and it's none of my concern. I'm no match for either of them, so it's best to make my exit," Feng Yimo reasoned, hastening his steps and vanishing into the thick forest with a series of agile bounds.

Chi Yangzi and the girl in red were evenly matched, trading blows for dozens of rounds without a clear winner. When Chi Yangzi caught sight of the troublemaker's sudden disappearance, he leaped out of the fray, exclaiming, "You little rascal, our main target has fled. What's the point in continuing this fight? Let's stop here."

Caught off guard, the girl in red summoned her red sword back with a gesture, transforming it into a two-inch long sword-shaped hairpin. She tossed her hair, and the hairpin soared, neatly embedding itself in her bun. Turning around, she confirmed the boy had indeed escaped, her frustration boiling over. Hands on her hips, she fumed, "Clever boy, I was fighting on your behalf, and you've slipped away like a thief in the night. Just wait until I catch you—I'll make sure you regret it!"

The old Taoist gave a dismissive twist of his mouth and, without a word, cast his flying sword into the air. With a swift leap, he transformed into a streak of light and soared away. The girl in the red dress stamped her foot in frustration, vanishing in a flash of red, leaving only the crumbling Zhou Family estate to be slowly devoured by the encroaching flames. The Zhou Family, notorious for their wickedness and tyranny over the village, had met their downfall in a single night.

Feng Yimo, once as swift as a cheetah, found his pace severely hindered as the Spirit Devouring Silkworm within him siphoned off his Spirit Qi, reducing him to mere mortal status. Now reliant on his physical stamina, his speed was greatly diminished. By his reckoning, even after fully charging his body with Spirit Qi, he could sustain it for no more than an hour before it would be drained away—meaning any confrontation with a cultivator would deplete his energy even faster.

The Spirit Devouring Silkworm was to blame for his predicament. When would it awaken? If it continued its relentless consumption, his dreams of advancing his cultivation level seemed utterly fanciful. It had taken over twenty Blood Power Fruits just to reach the first level of Qi Refinement. To progress to the second level, would he not need over fifty such fruits? Where could he possibly find such an abundance of these rare Spiritual Fruits?

Bitterness filled Feng Yimo's mouth as he ran over thirty kilometers, his breath heavy and sweat drenching his clothes. Once assured he was not being pursued, he collapsed onto a rock to catch his breath. After a moment's rest, he knelt in the direction of Ironwind Ridge and spoke, "Father, mother, I have avenged you. May you rest in peace. One day, I will return to erect a proper grave for you both." He had intended to search for his parents' remains after exacting revenge, but the unexpected appearance of an old Taoist and a young female cultivator had complicated matters.

Moreover, having witnessed the duel between Chi Yangzi and the girl in red, Feng Yimo realized that the cultivators here possessed abilities far surpassing those of their counterparts at the same level on the Heavenly Mirror Continent in his past life. Here, cultivators at the second level of the Qi Training Period could fly with swords and wield mid-grade spirit artifacts—feats typically reserved for those in the latter stages of Qi Training. Could it be that the standard of cultivation in this realm was leaps and bounds above the rest?

Although he had awakened memories from his past life and was essentially reborn, Feng Yimo was pleasantly surprised to discover that he had already acquired Divine Sense upon reaching the first level of the Qi Training Period. He had reveled in this revelation for quite some time. However, upon reflection, it seemed that such an occurrence was quite common, which left him feeling somewhat disheartened.

Unbeknownst to him, both Chi Yangzi and the young girl in the red dress were core disciples of their respective sects, the Yin-yang Sect among them. To be chosen as core disciples, one had to possess exceptional talent, truly one in a million. They had been cultivated with the abundant resources of their sects to achieve their current level of cultivation. It was rare for someone to develop Divine Sense at the first level of the Qi Training Period.

Feng Yimo's Divine Sense could reach out for a mile, whereas Chi Yangzi and the others could only project theirs about a hundred feet, which was considered a rudimentary Spiritual Sense. They relied on the faint Spiritual Qi in the air to detect the dynamics of their surroundings. In contrast, Feng Yimo's Divine Sense was a genuine nerve cord, fueled by soul force, capable of perceiving everything, including objects hidden beneath the ground.

After taking a brief rest, Feng Yimo retrieved a box from his Storage Bag, which he had acquired from Zhou Pigu's residence. Lifting the lid, he found dozens of silver notes, each valued at a hundred taels, along with two notes worth a thousand taels each. Beneath them lay ten land deeds and ten gold bars. At the very bottom of the box was another, smaller and slender box, measuring just half a foot in length and three inches in width. Driven by curiosity, he opened it and was startled to see a palm-sized infant lying inside.

But it wasn't an infant at all—it was a ginseng in human form!

The ginseng stood merely six inches tall with a two-inch girth. Its top resembled a human face, complete with nose and eyes, while its lower roots looked like two arms. The body of the ginseng was round and chubby, like that of a plump child, and its supporting roots formed two legs. Emitting a gentle fragrance, the ginseng had a soothing effect; one sniff and the body felt at ease, as if every pore across the limbs and skeleton had opened up.

In his past life, Feng Yimo had studied the Catalogue of Spiritual Grasses and understood that a ginseng resembling a human would be at least a thousand years old. The ginseng before him, lacking only a mouth and ears, was virtually indistinguishable from a person and had to be at least eight or nine hundred years old. There's an old saying: "Ten years a grass, a hundred years a treasure," and indeed, ginseng over a century old can extend life. On the brink of death, as long as one still draws breath, such a ginseng can keep death at bay—especially one as ancient as eight or nine hundred years. This ginseng qualifies as a second-tier Spirit Herb, and not just any second-tier, but a high-grade one at that! Consuming this ginseng would allow an average Qi Training Period cultivator to boost their cultivation by at least two minor levels!