Chapter 57: May

The sky was vast and tranquil.

In the courtyard, Chen Yu enjoyed his usual leisure. With nothing pressing at hand, he twirled a wild blade of grass, dangling it over the water vat, letting it lightly sway atop the surface.

Inside the vat, bubbles rose and burst. A round-bellied loach emerged warily from the muddy bottom, circled the floating grass once, and then flicked its tail, disappearing again into the depths, motionless beneath the silt.

The wild grass continued to sway. Before the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the loach surfaced again, dazedly swimming around the bit of grass, attempting a nibble or two before sinking back down.

So the cycle repeated, yet Chen Yu watched, thoroughly entertained, finding not the slightest hint of boredom in the scene.

"By this count, I suppose I'm fishing?"

Thinking this, Chen Yu chuckled to himself, feeling as though he had finally made a start and fulfilled a small wish harbored for some time.

As for the deep pool, he had no intention of returning there. Perhaps he and the fish were simply ill-fated—each visit ended in disappointment. The last time, he hadn't even glimpsed so much as a fish's tail.

He glanced at the fishing rod leaning against the wall and shook his head with a sigh. Poor rod—it, like him, had never tasted the flavor of fish.

"Let's go check on Brother Rooster."

After amusing himself once more with the steadfast loach, Chen Yu set the wild grass atop the vat, keeping it in place, then made his way to the chicken coop behind the courtyard.

The coop had changed considerably, most notably extended to nearly three times its original length, now encircling almost the entire courtyard wall. Though still not particularly wide, it met the needs of the growing chicks, who could now expend their boundless energy by dashing from east to west several times over.

The chicks no longer hid beneath the mother hen's wings at the slightest provocation, nor did they follow her in search of scraps. Instead, they busied themselves scratching for food in the dirt.

The earth at the edge of the yard had been turned over again and again, until it was as fine and soft as sand.

Hands clasped behind his back, Chen Yu strolled over, immediately spotting Brother Rooster perched atop the mother hen. The rooster's crimson comb quivered, as did the hen’s glossy red tail feathers.

He stepped closer to study the scene. After a long moment, the mother hen, unsettled by his fixed gaze, lowered her head, and even the usually combative Brother Rooster trembled as he dismounted from his favored mate.

Once both feet hit the ground, the rooster’s spirit revived. With a burst of energy, he lunged at Chen Yu, his claws and beak radiating the irritation of having been disturbed.

Best to make a quick exit.

Without lingering, Chen Yu turned away. Since Brother Rooster was so vigorous, it proved that the spring millet he had fed them two days ago hadn't caused any obvious side effects.

Indeed, the portion of spring millet catalyzed with spiritual essence had already grown and borne grain. In just over ten days since mid-April, it had passed through sprouting, shooting, flowering, and fruiting at astonishing speed.

Regrettably, as with plants catalyzed by spiritual force, the millet began to wither and die upon ripening. There was a difference, though: at least the spring millet left behind a tuft of unhulled seeds that could serve as grain.

It was the first time he’d obtained seed after cultivation.

With a mind to share his fortune, Chen Yu had given Brother Rooster some of the millet. Judging by the rooster’s only notable change—an abundance of energy—the effect of the spiritual liquid was not particularly pronounced.

Returning to the temple, Chen Yu entered the storeroom where various grains and medicinal seeds were kept. The seeds catalyzed by spiritual force remained inert; he suspected they might have perished before sprouting, as after more than half a month, there was still no sign of life.

However, the codonopsis by the courtyard was thriving, as was a pot of dryland celery.

After an inspection, he dug up a grain seed and found it shriveled and split. This was not an isolated case. Once he retrieved all the seeds from the shelves that had been catalyzed with spiritual force, he discovered most were dead, with only a scant few remaining plump and full.

He cleaned up, replanted the surviving seeds—whether alive or not—and added another dose of spiritual force.

With chores complete, Chen Yu stepped out of the storeroom.

The third batch of crops behind the courtyard was nearly ripe; in a few days, he would harvest another yield of Divine Orchard Fruit and Green Spirit Root.

What surprised him this time was that some of the Divine Orchard Fruit had not only grown larger and more elongated, but a few had shrunk to the size of a thumb.

He also noticed these smaller fruits seemed especially prone to attracting pests; each morning he found green caterpillars on them. This was the first time, since using spiritual force, that insects had come to feed on the mutant crops.

Perhaps these fruits were unique; Chen Yu made a mental note. As for the caterpillars, he wasn’t particularly concerned, for he found the tiny fruits had remarkably thick skins.

With little happening in the medicinal garden, the temple itself relaxed. Chen Yu’s duties now consisted mostly of routine inspections, leaving him free to devote more time and energy to refining his spiritual cultivation.

…

April slipped into May, and the grand Daoist ceremony in the county below the mountain drew near.

Chen Yu felt no urgency—he had little to prepare, needing only a change of clothes.

This was to be a grand gathering of all Daoist sects in Guangyong Prefecture. Formal attire was required, but the most formal garment in the temple was his cloud-and-crane Daoist robe. At most, he would bring the official identification plaque—without it, few would recognize him as the fifth abbot of Cloud Crane Temple.

In front of the courtyard, atop a well-worn bluestone, Chen Yu stood tall, lowered into a stance, and moved through the motions of a familiar boxing form.

Once his blood and energy were flowing, he drew back, calming his mind. He silently recited the incantations he had woven together from various spirit-guiding methods, attempting to stir his spiritual power.

A familiar ripple answered. Compared to his first clumsy attempts, he could now barely guide that force, though only at a distance and with great effort.

His technique was rough, but it gave him hope.

After a long while, Chen Yu exhaled a turbid breath and slowly opened his eyes. Another failure, but he was used to it and remained untroubled.

“Compared to last time, I lasted two breaths longer.”

Water wears away stone—he was confident that one day he would fully master his spiritual power.

He unfastened his water pouch, uncorked it, and took a swig.

A familiar warmth filled his belly, but the heat that should have surged through his liver and radiated throughout his body dissipated instantly, gone without a trace.

“My limit again.”

This time, the limit had come quickly. The first time he faced this vague barrier was a month after taking the spiritual liquid. Now, barely ten days later, it had appeared again.

Though he had taken less Green Spirit Root lately, the pattern was clear.

Even if he overcame this absorption limit with Green Spirit Root, before long another, and yet another, would follow—and the root might not always be effective. Unless he ceased to be human, this ceiling would persist. Once even Green Spirit Root could not broaden it, he would no longer be able to absorb energy so freely.

This realization did not trouble Chen Yu.

If he could not absorb more, so be it. Lately, he had noticed his constitution was so strong that even the Spirit Summoning and Body Strengthening Technique could no longer improve it.

To progress further, he would need to perfect an even more powerful technique.

Otherwise, no amount of spiritual liquid would help—its only use would be to restore energy and relieve fatigue.

“External training has reached perfection!”

For a moment, he was filled with emotion. Plainly, he still hadn’t mastered the art of yielding force…