Chapter 32

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"Yes, yes, Young Clan Leader is right. I'll go back and practice, practice." Chen Hui seized the opportunity to back down and glared fiercely at Chen Mo. "Brat, I won't deal with you today for the Young Clan Leader's sake. We'll settle this during the clan competition." With that, he put on an arrogant air and quickly left.

Chen Mo didn't even bother to respond to such nonsense.

After the others left, Chen Xuan said, "Chen Mo, now that your cultivation has improved, you need to work even harder and shine at the clan competition."

Chen Mo knew that these days, Chen Deshui hadn't made a big fuss against him, probably because of Chen Xuan's influence. Although Chen Xuan had ulterior motives for Wu'er, Chen Mo still owed him a favor. Otherwise, if Chen Deshui went berserk and retaliated, Chen Mo's current strength wouldn't be enough to resist.

But favors are one thing, and Chen Mo had no intention of letting him have a chance to pursue Wu'er. He said directly, "Thank you for your encouragement, Young Clan Leader. My brother is waiting for Wu'er and me to come home. I'll take my leave now."

Without giving Chen Xuan a chance to show off, Chen Mo pulled Helian Huo Wu away.

In the bustling market, he finally let go of her.

This made Helian Huo Wu's delicate and beautiful face flush slightly. Although her second brother had forcibly pulled her away, which seemed a bit unreasonable, her clever and perceptive heart felt no anger, but rather a faint joy.

She really wanted her second brother to hold her hand forever...

On the stone path, under the shade of willow trees, the vendors' cries rose and fell. The hundreds of acres of spirit fields around the town were in the harvest season, and people from within a hundred miles flocked here, hoping to sell their harvests for a good price to support their children with potential.

As they strolled along, Chen Mo occasionally bought some snacks for Wu'er.

The market was full of all kinds of goods, and it wasn't easy to find something that suited their tastes among the myriad items. Besides, Chen Mo wasn't wealthy and was always short of money.

He decided to just browse around and then go to the family scripture hall to exchange for two lower-tier cultivation techniques.

Just then, he heard a vendor calling, "Cold Spirit Grass, selling Cold Spirit Grass, just one hundred gold taels."

Cold Spirit Grass? Chen Mo stopped, feeling a bit puzzled. Cold Spirit Grass wasn't just any ordinary grass; it was a genuine first-grade spirit herb, worth at least several hundred gold taels.

Could someone be bold enough to sell fake medicine in the family market?

Many people gathered, but soon someone started cursing, "You vendor, you're really cheating people! This is indeed Cold Spirit Grass, but this branch is almost withered. Once it dies, it will lose all its medicinal value."

"Yes, yes, vendor, you can't be so unscrupulous. Will you sell it for ten gold taels?"

Ten gold taels? The vendor wouldn't agree, angrily shouting, "This Cold Spirit Grass is nearly a hundred years old and about to become a second-grade spirit herb. Even if it's almost dead, it can still have some effect if used immediately. Fifty gold taels, no less."

Which cultivator doesn't stretch a gold tael to make two? This price was too high and of little use. No one was willing to buy it. The onlookers shook their heads and dispersed.

When the crowd had mostly dispersed, Chen Mo and Huo Wu squeezed through.

He glanced at the spirit grass on the stall. Although it was almost withered, the stem still retained a trace of vitality. If he wasn't mistaken, this was indeed a Cold Spirit Grass. This herb grows in high mountain snow regions and is extremely resilient, usually growing to about half a foot. This one looked like it was nearly a hundred years old.

Unfortunately, it was withered, and its efficacy was gradually fading. For ordinary people, this might be the case. But for Chen Mo, a thought flashed in his mind. If the green liquid could heal the spirit valley, could it also revive this spirit grass? If he could save it, wouldn't he be getting a great deal? After all, the Red Flame Spirit Fruit he picked in the Small Cavern Heaven was only a second-grade spirit herb.

Fifty gold taels was worth a gamble. Chen Mo said, "One and a half pounds of medium-grade spirit rice. Will you sell it, or not?"

One and a half pounds of spirit rice was worth forty-five gold taels, not far off. The vendor felt a bit cheated but, if he couldn't sell it in a couple of days, he would lose everything once it died. He gritted his teeth and said, "Alright, I'll sell it to you."

Chen Mo took the item without a word, not even bothering to exchange for the cultivation techniques, and hurried home. He was afraid that if he delayed, the Cold Spirit Grass would die, and he would lose everything.

At home, Chen Mo locked himself in his small room and opened the jade box. The Bright Mystic Qi surged into the sprout in his consciousness sea. The branches and leaves seemed to sense their master's will, trembling slightly, though reluctantly, and squeezed out a drop of green liquid, which fell into the consciousness sea.

Familiar with the process, the Mystic Qi flowed backward, glowing with a greenish-blue light, slowly concentrating and injecting into the Cold Spirit Grass.

The Cold Spirit Grass in his hand, like a plant that had just received rain after a long drought, slowly regained vitality. In less than a quarter of an hour, the previously yellowed roots became crystal clear and icy, like jade, regaining its original luster. It looked like frozen glass in the cold wind, emitting a faint, bone-chilling mist.

Chen Mo sighed in relief, feeling elated. This was definitely a good deal.

Just then, the Cold Spirit Grass underwent a slight change, becoming even more chilling and growing an inch longer.

Chen Mo was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps because this Cold Spirit Grass had absorbed more green liquid, it had finally reached the hundred-year mark.

He had thought that if this nearly dead Cold Spirit Grass could recover to half its vitality, it would be good enough. Now, it wasn't just half its vitality; it was clearly a "second-grade spirit herb," as fresh and full of vitality as if it had just been picked, exuding a rich spiritual aura.

A second-grade spirit herb was worth far more than a first-grade one, not just in terms of its medicinal properties but also in its growth period, which differed by several decades. Its current value far exceeded his expectations. He was delighted and deeply impressed by the power of the green liquid in his consciousness sea.

This made Chen Mo think. If he bought some first-grade spirit herbs and used the green liquid to upgrade them to second-grade, wouldn't he have a steady source of income?

But the enthusiasm in his heart was quickly quelled. This Cold Spirit Grass was already close to reaching the hundred-year mark and becoming a second-grade spirit herb. If he tried to upgrade a regular first-grade spirit herb to second-grade using only the green liquid, it would likely consume much more of the green liquid.

The green liquid was the foundation of the Bright Mystic Tree. Since it was still young, if he overused it, would it wither? He could only use the green liquid in emergencies.

At this moment, Chen Mo could clearly sense the sprout in his consciousness sea conveying a desire to him. It seemed to want Chen Mo to eat the Cold Spirit Grass and supply it with the green liquid.

But this second-grade Cold Spirit Grass could sell for at least a thousand gold taels. Chen Mo wasn't willing to be so extravagant. He comforted the sprout and prepared to feed it a few small spirit pills as compensation.

The sprout shook slightly, seeming somewhat unwilling.

Just then, a small, basin-sized black shadow darted over. It was Little Eight, the thief, with a sharp head, ready to bite the Cold Spirit Grass, his two beady eyes gleaming with excitement. His movements were far more agile than a turtle's should be.

Just as he was about to bite the Cold Spirit Grass, Chen Mo grabbed his neck. This made Chen Mo's face turn black, and his mouth twitched. What kind of glutton had he raised? The young sprout of the Bright Mystic Tree, and this insatiable Mystic Turtle, Little Eight?

Because this Mystic Turtle could sneak and eat things, Chen Mo hadn't dared to bring him along to the grain storage. Otherwise, who knew what kind of trouble he would cause in the town's apothecary?

Chen Mo opened the window and unceremoniously threw him over the wall. After flying several dozen feet, he landed with a thud, but his astonishing defense left him unharmed. He glared at Chen Mo's house with green eyes and reluctantly went to find a pond to eat fish.

As for the sprout, he decided to reward it for its good work.

...

The next morning, the dew had not yet dried. The branches and leaves drooped, struggling a few times, shaking off a few drops of dew, and then lifted their heads.

On the bed, Chen Mo sat cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees, and entered his consciousness sea. After taking a few small spirit pills recently, the sprout in his consciousness sea not only looked more vigorous but also had a more extended stem, with a new sprout emerging. Although it was far from growing another leaf, Chen Mo was delighted.

The pills in his stomach made the Mystic Qi in his dantian condense like a small universe, floating and resonating, giving him a strong sense of fullness. This was a stark contrast to the previous emptiness, indicating that he had regained much of his strength, and his body was full of vitality and energy.

Chen Mo gently lifted his hands and placed them on his abdomen, taking a deep breath, and then raised his palms to his chest. The Mystic Qi, as if sensing his will, gathered in his palms from various meridians. The gathering point was like a battlefield of energy, with a thick and powerful aura, as if about to burst.

He glanced at Little Eight, suddenly feeling nervous, and quickly reined in his energy, stepping on him and saying, "What are you up to, sneaking around? I warn you, I only have one pill left. Do you want to steal it?"

Little Eight blinked his beady eyes, looking at Chen Mo with a pitiful, wronged expression.

"Alright, alright, I give up. After I sell the Cold Spirit Grass, I'll get you some turtle food." Chen Mo was speechless. This little Eight looked small, but his appetite was astonishing. He was also very picky, always eating the most expensive things. One day, he would eat Chen Mo into bankruptcy.

If it weren't for his connections, Chen Mo would have long considered making turtle soup.

"Knock, knock," a clear voice called, "Second Brother, are you there?"

Helian Huo Wu was waiting outside the door, and the door creaked open.

...

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