Chapter Sixty-Four: The Library

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The Hall of Spiritual Plants was located in the northern district. It occupied an immense area, with vast fields behind it belonging to the hall, all spiritual farmland.

Zhou Changwang had apprenticed here for five years and was intimately familiar with many parts of the Hall of Spiritual Plants. Thus, he quickly found the hall’s library.

There was, of course, someone guarding the library: a very old man, whom most people in the hall called Old Jian.

Old Jian was ancient—rumored to have passed his hundredth year. He walked with trembling steps. Five years ago, when Zhou Changwang first became an apprentice, Old Jian moved like this, and five years later, he still did.

But he was not some mysterious monk sweeping the floor; rather, he was an old spiritual farmer who, after decades of work, could no longer handle the labor. The hall master, it was said, was related to him by blood, so Old Jian was allowed to guard the library and enjoy his retirement.

Zhou Changwang stepped forward, about to greet him, but Old Jian seemed to have noticed him already. He sprang up with surprising speed, grinned wide to reveal yellowed teeth, and said, “Here to read?”

When Zhou Changwang nodded, Old Jian rattled off, “Ten spirit shards per hour. If you want to borrow, deposit five lower-grade spirit stones, rent two spirit shards a day, and after a month, one spirit stone is deducted. If you keep it for five months, it’s considered lost, and you’ll have to pay another five spirit stones, or you lose your library privileges.”

He spoke while shakily extending his hand, clearly expecting Zhou Changwang to pay.

“Old Jian, here’s my apprentice token. I remember apprentices get five hours of free reading each year. If we exceed the time, it’s only three spirit shards per hour…” Zhou Changwang replied calmly, handing him a token. He was long familiar with Old Jian’s greedy nature.

This was one of the rare benefits of being an apprentice in the Hall of Spiritual Plants. Though he now worked as a spiritual farmer outside, the token was still valid—as long as his former spiritual plant master stayed silent, he was, in name, still an apprentice here.

“Hmph, go on then. I’ll keep track of your time,” Old Jian grumbled, glancing at the token, his warmth gone. He shuffled back to his seat.

Zhou Changwang paid no mind. After registering, he entered the library.

It wasn’t large, but three rows of shelves were filled to the brim.

“Key Points of Spiritual Ginseng Cultivation,” “How to Identify Spiritual Soil,” “The Effect of Growth-Acceleration Techniques on Planting,” “Compendium of Spiritual Rice Varieties,” “Ten Essential Spiritual Materials for Lazy Cultivators”—a vast array of titles met his eyes.

All these books contained knowledge and essentials about cultivating spiritual plants.

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Though there were no specific spells or cultivation methods, they answered most problems spiritual plant cultivators faced during planting.

Aside from himself, there were two others in the library. One was an elderly man with graying hair, engrossed in a book titled “Nine Steps to Cultivating Seven Immortal Herbs.” The other appeared to be a middle-aged farmer-cultivator, likely fresh from the fields, covered in dirt with his pants rolled up to his knees. He too held a book, at times frowning, at times enlightened.

Zhou Changwang recognized both. They were official spiritual plant cultivators of the hall, each tending more than a hundred acres, mostly growing medicinal plants.

He knew them, but they didn’t know him. So he didn’t bother greeting them—instead, he began searching the shelves for the information he needed.

“The Vanished Rarities?” Suddenly, a book caught his eye. He quickly pulled it out and began reading.

The book carried no author’s name, but it meticulously catalogued all the extinct and vanished rare spiritual plants of the cultivation world over the past millennium.

Many of these wonders were entirely new to him—he had never even heard of them. Yet they had vanished, never to be seen again. Some entries had only names and descriptions of traits, others included illustrations.

“Mindgrass, Myriad Flower, Thunder Spirit Rice Tree…”

As Zhou Changwang read, his eyes suddenly lit up.

He had indeed found a record about Thunder Spirit Rice.

The book noted that Thunder Spirit Rice was one of the rare tree-born rices, also called Thunder Rice Tree or Thunder Spirit Rice Tree, naturally attuned to thunder, and a specialty of the Qi family in Tianjue Mountain.

But after the Qi family was destroyed, Thunder Spirit Rice vanished as well.

There was a veiled note: the Qi family’s downfall was due to offending a Core Formation cultivator. The book did not say who; Zhou Changwang didn’t care.

What he truly wanted to know was how the Thunder Spirit Rice Tree could flower and bear grain.

Unfortunately, the author had never seen the Thunder Spirit Rice Tree, much less cultivated it, so the description was vague.

Essentially, “The Vanished Rarities” was just a popular science book.

“Naturally attuned to thunder? Perhaps it requires the power of lightning to grow?” Zhou Changwang speculated, but could not be certain.

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He hurried to search for more related books.

Half an hour later, he found another mention in “Miscellaneous Essays on Spiritual Rice.”

This book recorded more details: the Thunder Spirit Rice Tree only blossomed and bore grain in places dense with lightning—thunder marshes or lands where lightning was frequent.

“So, it must be in an environment with lightning for it to flower and bear grain?” Zhou Changwang felt a headache coming.

This would be difficult for him.

Such thunder marshes, rife with lightning, where bolts could strike at any moment—if one struck him by accident… As a mere third-level Qi Refining cultivator, he dared not set foot there.

“Wait. If the Qi family could cultivate Thunder Spirit Rice and sell it, then ordinary spiritual lands must suffice for planting. After all, Tianjue Mountain was the Qi clan’s territory eight hundred years ago, home to countless Qi family members. It’s unlikely that heavenly thunder struck often.”

Perhaps there was another method? For instance, could Thunder Spirit Rice Trees be cultivated using thunder techniques directly?

Zhou Changwang guessed, feeling this possibility was strong.

He spent another half hour searching.

Unfortunately, he found no further information about Thunder Spirit Rice Trees. Any scattered records were vague, as if scratching an itch through a boot—useless to him.

He had no choice but to give up.

Perhaps the library did contain the method for cultivating Thunder Spirit Rice Trees, but he simply hadn’t found it yet.

He left the library and went to the hall’s main chamber.

Here, there was a special information board—in essence, a task board and a purchasing board. For a fee, one could leave a message detailing their needs.

For example, the board listed long-term purchases of Yellowleaf Grass, Hemp Root Vine… high-priced acquisitions of spiritual ginseng over five years old… requests for spiritual plant cultivators to resolve widespread wilting of Hundred Spirit Flowers, commission negotiable… and all sorts of information.