Chapter Seventy: Let It Drift Away with the Wind

"You silly deer! Ask for a beating!"

He pulled a blade of grass and flicked it at the chestnut-colored fawn. The creature merely shook its short, fluffy tail, indifferent to the sting, and continued nibbling on the peach blossoms from the tree.

Chen Yu sighed, helpless. He had no choice but to build fences around the remaining trees. Since the Daoist temple had little hemp or kudzu cloth left, he had to piece together scraps of wood, stacking them high enough to keep the beast from jumping over.

It was the Summer Solstice.

In this world, the Summer Solstice fell on the thirtieth of June, eight or nine days later than in his previous life.

Four days had passed since he had accidentally swallowed an entire Qi bead. In that time, not a single drop of rain had fallen, and the sun had grown increasingly scorching. Fortunately, the pond behind the courtyard had been dug deep, still holding three feet of water. However, it was sparse in fish and crab; only three small silver carp remained, idling their days away, as the loaches and crabs had long since been eaten. That last loach, which he had raised for months, had finally given up three days ago, its belly turning white.

In contrast, the little deer that kept bleating in front of the courtyard was well-fed and plump. The scars on its body had long since faded away. With the threat of black bears gone from the mountain forest, the foolish creature was exuberant, appearing only to scrounge for food near the temple every few days and remaining invisible the rest of the time.

The chickens in the coop behind the courtyard were also suffering. Another chick was gone.

Perhaps it had fallen ill; it had defecated all over the place. Chen Yu had turned the soil in the coop, cleaned it, and covered it with a layer of wood ash. His internal Qi was useless in this regard, and the illness had been discovered too late and progressed too swiftly, killing the chick overnight. He hadn't even had the chance to use his spiritual liquid or peach blossoms.

Chen Yu felt a pang of helplessness; he could only keep a closer eye on the remaining ten chicks. He had bought twelve from down the mountain, one was bitten by a king rat snake, and now another was lost. He truly wondered how many would be left to harvest by the end of the year—and how many he would actually get to eat.

...

Inside the temple, a stick of incense was lit. With the midday solar energy exceptionally potent these past two days, Chen Yu added extra incense for the Daoist ancestors and lords, praying for the safety of the chicken coop.

By now, most of his spiritual plants had matured. The Yuanling roots had been harvested. Their spiritual energy and essence could be preserved for a long time, especially since he had started using bamboo tubes; as long as the wooden stoppers were tight, it was far superior to the old method of using the roots themselves as gourds. At least now, there was no overflow or needless waste.

The broken pieces of Yuanling roots were buried in the soil as fertilizer, and he had dried some, hoping to see if he could use them for alchemy later.

Ever since he obtained the *Dispersed Pill Manual* from You Kewei, he had been pondering how to refine pills using spiritual plants. The art of the Dispersed Pill was not overly profound, but it was not easy to master. After studying for a long time, he could finally manage to refine the "Ancient Snake Compound Pill," which was slightly more difficult to produce than the "Four-Direction Blazing Bright Pill."

Unlike the latter, which could accelerate the refinement of internal organs, the former’s effect was simpler: it cured snake venom. The main issue remained that the medicinal herbs available in the temple and on the surrounding mountains could only yield a few types of pills; most of the recipes in the manual were missing ingredients.

The Dispersed Pill method took a different path than the alchemy furnace school; without the use of lead or mercury, many of these pill recipes had minimal side effects. For this reason, Chen Yu maintained a keen interest in them.

Unfortunately, his recent research into using spiritual plants for alchemy had seen little progress. At first, he had used spiritual liquid, but he had assumed it couldn't be fused because he couldn't manipulate it finely enough. Later, with the development of his spiritual power, even under strong pressure, there was still no effect. Only now was he beginning to find some clues: if the essence of alchemy was to neutralize toxicity and extract medicinal power, why not approach it from that angle?

Ordinary people could not observe how pills formed and bonded in the furnace, relying only on past experience and the records of predecessors. But he was different; his spiritual power was subtle and meticulous, and his Qi could assist on both sides. Although many problems remained, Chen Yu was quite optimistic about the future of refining spiritual plant treasures.

"But compared to alchemy, if I could just grow them directly, that would be even better."

Sometimes he wondered if the spiritual mechanism could reach that level. The more plants he catalyzed, the deeper his perception of this power grew, and its potential was undoubtedly vast.

"It is indeed possible..."

Not to mention miraculous pills, even if he were to eventually grow divine weapons, golden-armored warriors, or legendary scrolls, Chen Yu figured he would be at most slightly surprised, but it wouldn't be entirely unexpected.

Of course, even if these things were successfully grown, how they would be used—or if they could be used at all—remained unclear. Not everything that grows is necessarily meant to be eaten.

Shaking off these chaotic thoughts, Chen Yu turned his gaze to the Qi in his palm.

It was a seed. A sphere condensed from Qi and spirit.

It was jade-white. He watched it, his spiritual power wrapped around the surface in a thick layer, but what was even more striking were the countless rings of texture upon it. They rippled like waves, rising in gentle undulations as the sphere spun.

[Lightness] [Toughness] [Sturdiness]...

He had carved seventeen array patterns onto this tiny sphere. He still hadn't found a way to merge four patterns into one, but he hadn't stopped researching. Thanks to a dozen or so explosions and failures, he had finally figured out a barely effective method to carve multiple different array patterns onto a single object.

Array patterns had evolved from the way Qi invaded the structure of other things; they were crude. Some, even when fully summarized and isolated, showed no miraculous effect. Yet others seemed to possess natural, wondrous capabilities that could not be masked, no matter how they were combined with other patterns. As a result, there were not many truly useful patterns.

Chen Yu had gained some insights into the deepening of his Qi, especially after the Qi bead in his body was completely absorbed. Most of it had fed his own Qi, causing it to swell significantly. He found it increasingly easy to command, and his ability to carve array patterns had improved accordingly.

He studied the smooth, glowing sphere. As his thoughts shifted, a wisp of his spiritual power connected with the spirit on the surface. The next moment, chain-like patterns manifested, eventually converging to wrap completely around the sphere.

It floated gently. With a flick of his hand, he watched the orb—now much dimmer after being sealed—drift into the air.

He closed his eyes. A faint, ethereal connection rippled in his mind, and his consciousness guided it. In an instant, it was as if the world had opened anew, and the familiar, brilliant world appeared before him.

The gloom vanished!

In his vision, a pine tree and a pear tree came into view. On a small gravel path sat a young man who could not be more familiar.

It was 'Chen Yu'.

He had observed himself like this after his spiritual power emerged, but this perspective was rare. After all, the orb was at least two yards away from his physical body! Yet, there remained an invisible connection between them, like a severed lotus root still held by its fibers.

The next moment, his consciousness returned, and he opened his eyes. After a moment of thought, he puffed out his chest and exhaled a jade-white stream of air, blowing the orb far into the distance—

With a gentle breeze, it drifted and swayed, heading down the mountain.