Chapter 7
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 7
“There is nothing wrong with the Primordial Unity One-Qi Art itself. In fact, it is far more profound than the other foundational cultivation arts given to new disciples. But… No, never mind. It’s too early to tell whether that applies to you…”
No Baek-san gestured toward the open door of one of the two inner rooms.
“Take that one. Unpack your things, then come outside.”
Lee Hyun stepped inside.
A small cot and an old wooden chest were the only furnishings. A light layer of dust coated the floor and furniture from sitting empty, but the walls and ceiling were in good repair. When he pushed open the window, it revealed a clear, tranquil view of the pond and the lush spirit fields beyond.
He retrieved his bedding and a change of clothes from his storage pouch, laid them neatly on the cot, and walked back out.
No Baek-san was already heading into the fields, and Lee Hyun hurried after him.
“Today’s task is weeding.”
“Do we not use spells?”
“Do you know any?”
“Not yet.”
“Then pull them by hand.”
“Understood, Senior Martial Brother.”
Knee-high, emerald grass blanketed the spirit field. Each blade was slender and tapered, glistening with a bead of crystal-clear dew at the tip.
“What spiritual herb is this?”
“Clear Dew Herb. It’s a key ingredient in Spirit Recovery Powder to swiftly replenish depleted spiritual qi, as well as Clear Vein Pills to cool heat within the meridians. It isn’t especially rare, but with its versatility, demand is always steady.”
“How do I tell the weeds apart?”
“Anything that isn’t Clear Dew Herb is a weed. Make sure you don’t leave the roots behind.”
It sounded simple enough, but the practical work was an entirely different matter.
Clear Dew Herb had thin, white roots, and many weeds shared a near-identical root structure. A careless tug snapped the stems right off, forcing him to painstakingly loosen the damp earth to unearth the rest.
Uprooting a single weed took considerable time and focus. Before long, No Baek-san had pulled far ahead.
I thought cultivators handled all their field chores with spells… but I suppose pulling weeds by hand is part of the path, too.
Still, Lee Hyun didn’t mind the labor.
In his past life, he would have complained incessantly about back-breaking work like this. But now, with a cultivation base at the 1st layer of Qi Refining, his waist and knees didn’t ache in the slightest. Because his body felt no strain, the work took no toll on his mind either.
As he sifted through the soil around the roots, he occasionally unearthed strange insects and unfamiliar plant bulbs.
Ugh… what is this?
When Lee Hyun uncovered a bug with a lustrous blue carapace and asked No Baek-san about it, the elder disciple identified it as a Blue-Shelled Insect—a pest that fed on Clear Dew Herb sap. With a casual flick of his fingers, No Baek-san suspended it in midair and incinerated it to ash.
A creature resembling a common earthworm, however, turned out to be an Earth Spirit Worm, which aerated the soil and evenly dispersed spiritual qi throughout the earth. No Baek-san told him to leave it in peace.
Even within the same patch of dirt, some things had to be exterminated, while others had to be carefully nurtured. Though it was only his first day, learning to tell them apart proved oddly absorbing.
As the sun sank behind the mountains, No Baek-san straightened his back.
“That’s enough for today.”
“There’s still that patch over there.”
“Once the sun sets, the dew of the Clear Dew Herb retreats into its roots. Disturbing the soil now damages its medicinal properties.”
No Baek-san gathered the weeds they had pulled, piled them on the stone wall, and formed a hand seal. With a faint pop, the heap ignited and turned to ashes in the blink of an eye.
“Do you have anything for dinner?”
“I have Fasting Pills.”
“Save those for when real provisions run out. There’s Spirit Rice in the storehouse behind the house. Let’s scoop a bowl and cook it up.”
Inside the storehouse, clay jars reaching up to their waists stood in neat rows.
No Baek-san broke the seal on one, letting loose a subtle, sweet aroma. Inside lay grains of rice shimmering with a soft, pearlescent sheen.
“Is this Spirit Rice?”
“Yes. A variety called Cheongha Rice. No need to wash it.”
No Baek-san tossed the Cheongha Rice and water into a pot, covered it with a lid, and lightly pressed his palm against the side.
A faint crimson glow radiated from his fingertips. Moments later, a rich, mouthwatering aroma filled the room.
He scooped the freshly cooked Cheongha Rice into two bowls and set out a dish of salted spirit vegetables from the cupboard. That was the entirety of their dinner.
Lee Hyun picked up his chopsticks and took a mouthful.
The grains were tender yet pleasantly chewy. A delicate sweetness spread across his tongue, and the moment he swallowed, a soothing warmth blossomed in his stomach. The weariness built up from a full day of field labor vanished in an instant.
This is incredible.
With just a few bites, he could feel the Primordial Unity True Qi inside his dantian swell by a minuscule fraction.
“Consuming Spirit Rice regularly must be remarkably beneficial to cultivation.”
“At best, this Cheongha Rice is only a Tier 1 mid-grade Spirit Grain. It only offers noticeable benefits during the Early Stage of Qi Refining.”
“Thank you, Senior Martial Brother No.”
“It’s coming out of the sect’s provisions, not my own pocket. Don’t waste your breath feeling indebted.”
* * *
Over the days that followed, Lee Hyun spent his daylight hours weeding and clearing irrigation channels in spirit field No. 73.
At night and during the quiet hours of dawn, he circulated the Primordial Unity One-Qi Art. The moment the sun crested the ridge, he went straight to the fields.
He skimmed dead leaves from the waterways, shoveled out silt choking the stream, plucked weeds sprouting amidst the Clear Dew Herb, and inspected the beds for any signs of spirit insects to report to No Baek-san.
No Baek-san rarely spoke while working. Yet, seeing that Lee Hyun never repeated a mistake and took care of unprompted chores without complaint, his demeanor gradually softened.
On the tenth day, No Baek-san called out to him just as he was about to tug at a root.
“Don’t pull that one.”
“It doesn’t look like Clear Dew Herb, though?”
“It’s an Earth Vein Flower. It’s not an herb, but its root system draws up spiritual qi from deep subterranean veins. Leaving a few clusters along the edges of the plot actually nourishes the Clear Dew Herb.”
No Baek-san pointed toward the soil around the base of the stem.
“A spirit plant farmer who only knows how to tell a weed from a spirit herb is half-baked at best. Look at the whole forest, not just the trees. You have to understand the bigger picture—what harms the field, and what fosters mutual growth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
From that day on, No Baek-san often shared insights about spirit herbs and soil management while they worked.
One afternoon, while organizing tools in the storehouse, Lee Hyun stumbled across a weather-worn manual. It was a basic primer on common cultivation knowledge, but two distinct terms caught his eye.
“Senior Martial Brother No, are both of these terms read as yeongsik?”
“Which yeongsik?”
No Baek-san glanced at the open page, then used a dry twig to trace two words in the dirt:
靈植 (spirit plant). 靈識 (divine sense).
“They share the same pronunciation, but their meanings couldn’t be more different. Yeongsik (靈植) is an umbrella term for any vegetation that grows by absorbing spiritual qi. Spirit grains, spirit fruits, spirit timber, and spiritual herbs all fall under this banner.”
No Baek-san pointed to the second word.
“On the other hand, yeongsik (靈識) is an archaic term for a cultivator’s ability to perceive their surroundings beyond the five physical senses.”
“Is it no longer used?”
“You’ll still find it in ancient scriptures, but these days, most people refer to it as divine sense (神識).”
No Baek-san dragged a line between the two terms with the tip of his twig.
“They say that in primeval antiquity, heaven-and-earth spiritual qi was boundless. Instead of bothering to cultivate spiritual herbs in fields, gathering natural spiritual treasures from mountains and wild domains was far more common. In those days, the term yeongsik almost exclusively meant a cultivator’s perception. But as spiritual qi dwindled and wild treasures grew scarce, later generations had to cultivate herbs and grains systematically. As spirit-plant farming grew into an essential discipline, cultivators adopted the term divine sense to avoid confusion.”
“Can a Qi Refining cultivator use divine sense, too?”
“Didn’t you gain a new layer of sensory perception the moment you broke through into the Qi Refining Stage? That is what divine sense is. Though compared to a Foundation Establishment cultivator, a Qi Refining cultivator’s divine sense is practically child’s play…”
“I see.”
“Language has its own life, just like spiritual herbs. Naturally, it shifts with the passing of time, does it not?”
Lee Hyun realized that No Baek-san possessed far deeper knowledge and practical experience in spirit-plant cultivation than any typical senior disciple on Herb Field Peak.
No Baek-san didn’t just oversee spirit field No. 73; he managed several smaller plots nearby as well. Outer-sect disciples plagued by blights or pests constantly sought his counsel, and without exception, every single one offered a deep, respectful bow before leaving.
Occasionally, No Baek-san took Lee Hyun to nearby fields to show him the crops commonly cultivated across the outer sect.
He held up a golden ear of grain.
“This is the Cheongha Rice we eat. You have to harvest it the moment more than half the stalk turns yellow for its spiritual qi to remain intact.”
Next, he pointed to a cluster of deep crimson leaves.
“This is Blood-Clotting Grass. It’s applied directly to wounds or refined into blood-staunching powders. Its potency is modest, but it grows quickly and is always in high demand, making it a staple in outer-sect spirit fields.”
As the lessons piled up, Lee Hyun began to realize that spirit plants were far different from what he had imagined.
None of the varieties he had seen so far required decades of slow growth. In fact, some were ready for harvest less than twenty days after sowing.
“Senior Martial Brother No, if we don’t harvest these plants immediately and let them grow for years, won’t their medicinal properties become far more potent?”
“Not necessarily. Most of the varieties we grow here have short lifespans. Once past their prime, their medicinal potency simply dissipates, and they wither as soon as they drop seed.”
No Baek-san pinched a crimson leaf from the Blood-Clotting Grass and rolled it between his fingers.
“This Blood-Clotting Grass reaches peak potency at three months. Past half a year, the stem turns fibrous and the medicinal sap dries out entirely. Keep it for a year, and far from growing stronger, it becomes completely worthless.”
“Then are there no spirit plants that grow more precious with age?”
“Of course there are. Plenty grow more potent the longer they live. But prized varieties like that are almost exclusively managed by the inner sect.”
“Is there no way for someone like me to get seeds like that?”
“Prized varieties would be impossible. But seeds for low-tier spirit plants that take long years to mature can be found easily enough in rogue cultivator markets. It’s just that nobody wants them.”
“Nobody wants them?”
“Naturally. Qi Refining rogue cultivators unaffiliated with sects or great clans have short lives; they don’t have the luxury of planning for future generations. Even if by some miracle one of them managed to nurse a plant for decades, they wouldn’t have the strength to protect their fields. It would just be stolen. Unless a crop can be turned into quick spirit stones, there’s virtually no market for it.”
It’s not as straightforward as I thought. Still, that means markets do have seeds suitable for long-term growth. I should visit one when I get the chance…
* * *
One afternoon, No Baek-san handed Lee Hyun four faded, yellowed volumes.
Their covers read: Primer on Spirit-Plant Cultivation, Tier 1 Spirit Herb Compendium, Spirit Soil and Water Veins, and Cheongha Valley Spirit-Field Regulations.
“This is foundational knowledge every spirit farmer needs. I’m only lending them to you, so see to it you don’t ruin them.”
“Thank you, Senior Martial Brother.”
From then on, whenever his field duties were done, Lee Hyun poured over the texts in between his cultivation cycles.
The seasons rolled by in steady succession.
In spring, the tender sprouts of Clear Dew Herb blanketed the terraces in brilliant emerald; in summer, ravenous spirit insects swarmed the beds. In autumn, golden stalks of Cheongha Rice bowed heavy under the weight of grain, and in winter, thin sheets of ice glazed the waterways running across Herb Field Peak.
Lee Hyun kept to the exact same routine day after day.
Where he had once struggled even to distinguish Clear Dew Herb from common weeds, after a year, he could tell whether a plant lacked spiritual qi simply by the tint of its leaves.
He also began learning rudimentary spells under No Baek-san’s guidance.
The first was the Spiritual Rain Spell. At first, all he could conjure was a wispy puff of mist hovering over his palm. Even the rain amounted to no more than three sad droplets before fizzling out completely.
It took months of daily practice before he could summon enough moisture to dampen a single furrow.
Next came the Soil-Turning Spell.
Churning the earth into soft, loamy soil was easy enough, but sifting out stones and weeds without disturbing the roots of nearby spiritual herbs was maddeningly precise work. Once, his control slipped, uprooting ten clumps of Clear Dew Herb in one go—an incident that earned him a fierce tongue-lashing from No Baek-san.
The third and fourth spells were the Yang Metal Formula and the Sprouting Spell.
The Yang Metal Formula proved to be the most demanding art he had tackled yet. In the beginning, the condensed silver needle flew barely a finger’s length before dissipating into thin air. Even when he managed to stabilize it, his aim was so unsteady that he kept skewering Clear Dew Herb leaves instead of the pests.
Though classified as a basic utility spell, piercing tiny insects without scratching the surrounding herbs required exquisite precision.
Ultimately, while Lee Hyun continued to practice the Yang Metal Formula every day, he found it far faster to catch and crush the pests by hand.
The Sprouting Spell was somewhat more forgiving.
By gathering Primordial Unity True Qi at his fingertips, converting it into the wood attribute, and feeding it into a seed, he could awaken the dormant life force locked inside the shell. Yet if he pumped in even a fraction too much vitality, the sprout swelled unnaturally and rotted within hours.
Only as his second year drew to a close did Lee Hyun finally cross the threshold of basic proficiency in all four spells.
“Senior Martial Brother No, do I lack talent when it comes to spells?”
“What? Not at all. Out of all the juniors I’ve supervised, your comprehension of spells is easily among the best. You carry yourself with the patient calm of an eighty-year-old, not someone barely twenty-one.”
“Yet even though these four spells are called the basics of spirit farming, they feel impossibly difficult.”
“Hmph. The higher-ups who assign field duties only call them ‘basics’ because it’s convenient. Do you honestly think anyone in the entirety of Cheongha Valley has achieved Major Accomplishment in the Yang Metal Formula or Sprouting Spell? Having a mountain of spiritual energy doesn’t make you a master of spells. What matters is grasping the underlying principles.”
Lee Hyun never let his personal cultivation slacken either.
His progress with the Primordial Unity One-Qi Art remained slow, but he felt no urgency. Once his meridians grew accustomed to the circulation paths, he reached a point where he could absorb spiritual qi even while taking a stroll through the fields.
Cultivating day in and day out without missing a single beat, he finally shattered the bottleneck to the 2nd layer of Qi Refining one winter—two and a half years after joining the sect.
“Finally, the 2nd layer of Qi Refining!”
Lee Hyun felt immense satisfaction as a fresh wave of vitality coursed through his limbs.
The Primordial Unity True Qi swirling in his dantian was incomparably denser than before, and his divine sense had expanded to the point where, even with his eyes shut, he could clearly map out the shapes of objects within a ten-zhang radius.
Life at spirit field No. 73 suited him well.
No Baek-san was curt, but honest and dependable, and the daily chores had become second nature. Whenever their yields proved bountiful, Lee Hyun even earned a modest surplus of sect contribution points.
It seemed that if he spent a few more quiet years mastering spirit plants and foundational spells, he could slip away from the sect unnoticed before anyone realized that his face and body never aged.
* * *
One month later.
Lee Hyun was maintaining a small raincloud with the Spiritual Rain Spell, drifting it gently over a plot of herbs. On the far side of the field, No Baek-san was inspecting the depth of an irrigation ditch Lee Hyun had dug that morning.
Suddenly, the sharp cry of a crane echoed across the sky.
Hm?
A paper crane descended through the clouds. It circled the spirit field once, then glided directly toward No Baek-san. When a glow pulsed from his sect identity token, the paper crane unfolded itself in midair, flattening out into a written missive.
As No Baek-san read through the lines, his brow furrowed, and his expression darkened by the second.
“Senior Martial Brother No, did something happen?”