Chapter 53: The Role of the Azure Spirit Root

Outside the temple, the mountain rocks were jagged and the path winding and rough. On either side, peach trees leaned in, their dark purplish-red branches curved, adorned with vibrant new leaves, under which clusters of delicate buds quietly emerged.

Within the courtyard, Chen Yu was oblivious to the changes outside. The lingering chill had vanished long ago, and the gentle warmth of the sun was growing ever hotter, showering the world with its ardor. He stared intently ahead, one hand rubbing his chin, the other lightly tapping his knee. His expression was serious, his eyes flickering with thought.

After a long while, he exhaled a heavy breath, as if having made a decision. Pinching a slightly dried bud of the Azure Spirit Root from the bowl before him, he lifted the bowl of spirit liquid with his right hand. Closing his eyes and opening his mouth, he swallowed them in quick succession.

He had no time to savor the texture of the bud or the warmth the spirit liquid stirred in his stomach. Instead, he activated his self-devised Breathing Spirit Strengthening Technique, carefully sensing the effects.

Soon, Chen Yu reopened his eyes, rising briskly, though his expression was tinged with sudden understanding. Indeed, the Azure Spirit Root could further enhance the absorption of spirit liquid—or rather, the anticipated limit that had seemed imminent was now, bit by bit, broadened and raised thanks to the root's buds. Thus, the absorption efficiency of the Breathing Spirit Strengthening Technique returned to its former level, and if he continued to take more Azure Spirit Root, perhaps his capacity might even surpass what it once was.

"Is it really that simple?" He glanced at the half piece of Azure Spirit Root remaining in the bowl, feeling somewhat complicated. What he had thought was a matter of grave importance to his future now seemed to have been a misunderstanding. Had he persisted in taking the Azure Spirit Root from the start, instead of shelving it after failing to find any effect, he might never have been troubled by this issue.

Thinking of this, he was momentarily bewildered by his own predicament, both amused and helpless. Yet, from another perspective, it had indirectly confirmed the human body's absorption limit.

Suddenly, he felt the potential of spirit catalyst was far from exhausted. Not only spirit machine and liquid, but these catalyzed plants seemed to hide many secrets as well.

Pondering, he fed the remaining half bud into his mouth, took out his record book, and wrote down the name Azure Spirit Root.

He had a premonition: the true function of the Azure Spirit Root was not merely to raise the absorption limit—that was too vague. It ought to be some specific leverage point. Just as the spirit liquid was absorbed via transformation in the liver, perhaps the root also acted on the liver? That seemed highly probable, otherwise, the breakthrough in absorption wouldn't occur.

Within just a few days, he resolved a problem that could be seen as both minor and major, and Chen Yu turned his attention back to cultivating other crops.

In truth, had he not spent so much time experimenting with Brother Chicken, using the Azure Spirit Root and other plants, it might have taken far less time.

The renewed use of the Azure Spirit Root strengthened his confidence in the spirit catalyst even further.

Of course, over these days, the effects of the spirit liquid also proved remarkable. On the wooden board, the spring millet seeds had already sprouted inch-long seedlings, far outpacing the tender shoots barely emerging in the field. Each was robust, promising a bountiful harvest once matured.

Yet, not everything had been favorable. Just yesterday, the transplanted allium leaves withered away, leaving him without scallions for seasoning, which disappointed Chen Yu for quite some time.

Moreover, of the three clay pots he used to sow medicinal seeds, only one sprouted—a yin herb known as Treasure Heart Grass.

He had selected three of five medicinal seeds he bought from the pharmacy at the foot of the mountain, choosing those not overly demanding of their environment. His funds were limited, so none were particularly precious.

Take Treasure Heart Grass, for instance. Though called a grass, it was more akin to a vine, usually growing among rocks with shrubs and moss, undemanding except for a couple of sticks and stones placed nearby after sprouting.

Common as it was, it fetched little on the market, and herb gatherers called it "worthless gold" or "yellow vine for a penny."

Now, this worthless vine had flourished thanks to the spirit liquid—while the spirit machine-catalyzed specimens remained still, seemingly dead.

He fiddled with the drought celery, having clipped some earlier to add freshness to his dried mushroom and loach soup. Thankfully, it continued to grow well, and new shoots had already replaced the harvested ones.

So, before heading to the backyard, Chen Yu clipped some more and left them on the stove, together with four skinny loaches he had gutted and cleaned.

He had to admit, he was terribly unsuited to raising creatures. Over these days, most of the crabs had died, and only three loaches survived, barely clinging to life in the mud, not knowing when they might perish.

He had been so busy experimenting to break through the spirit liquid absorption limit that he neglected them, never expecting matters to end up like this.

With no other choice, he resolved to make use of their last bit of value. But it must be said, loach from the wilds truly had excellent flesh.

In the process, he tried boiling them with Intestinal Grass and Divine Orchard Fruit, and the result was a pot of exquisite color, aroma, and taste, lingering on the palate.

Yet, these ingredients were scarce. To dine freely, he would need to wait until the third batch of transplanted vegetables matured in the medicinal field—the field, now refilled and no longer idle. This was mainly because the medicinal and grain crops grew far slower than expected; he had meant to transplant them for further observation once they matured.

But now, his consumption of Divine Orchard Fruit and Azure Spirit Root had increased, especially the latter, which was entirely depleted.

The greedy deer had left only one seedling, and with the two roots harvested at maturity, all had been used in his experiments.

So transplantation and cultivation resumed, though this time without the presence of the Primordial Root or Intestinal Grass.

After a bout of turbulence, deep within his consciousness, the accumulated spirit machine from these days dwindled by a few grains.

A gentle breeze swept through the mountains, serene and calm.

With the issue of spirit liquid absorption resolved, Chen Yu returned to his usual rhythm—reading Daoist scriptures daily, occasionally weeding his mountain fields. The weeds in the rocky ground had deep roots and short leaves, making them quite difficult to pull.

He had not ventured into the mountains again, but after a light rain two days prior, he went to the small grove behind the temple in search of mushrooms. There weren't many, but he found several large-stemmed, broad-capped chicken-of-the-woods, which he cooked with the last piece of mountain chicken.

In these idle days, April waned, and the peach blossoms bloomed in full.

Chen Yu moved his chair to the front yard. Not far to the right stood the jar containing mountain crabs—a few duckweed floated above, and amid the stones at the bottom, two or three black-and-red crabs blew bubbles.

As for the loach… He glanced helplessly at the smaller jar further inside. It was no wonder loach was hard to raise; despite all his care, only one remained.

It might not survive tomorrow.

Yet, Chen Yu had no plans to venture into the mountains for more. He had grown tired of them.

There were few condiments in the temple, and no matter how they were cooked, there were only a handful of methods. Fresh they may be, but the fishiness lingered.

Looking back at the soft pink petals before him, Chen Yu suddenly reached out to touch the flowers, thinking that if only there were flour in the temple, he might try making peach blossom cake.

For reasons unknown, the peach blossoms here bloomed much later than those in his memory. Shouldn't they have opened in mid-spring?

Yet, here they bloomed alongside the pear trees, their flowering periods overlapping.

"How did I forget this last time I went down the mountain?" Pinching a petal, Chen Yu sighed. Not only was there no flour in the temple—there wasn't even any bread or noodles. Day after day, he ate rice, and he longed for a change.

But soon, he would have another chance to go down the mountain and could buy some to bring back.

On the other side, stroking the smooth bark, Chen Yu was struck by a sudden idea: what if he infused the peach tree with spirit machine?

His eyes brightened. He had considered this before, but back then, he was just beginning to explore spirit machine and lacked the understanding he now possessed.

After pondering for a while, he decided it was worth a try. Especially since the peach trees had yet to bear fruit, he was eager to taste a spirit machine-catalyzed peach.