Chapter Eighty-Eight: You Are Far Too Casual

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This outcome did not surprise Zhou Changwang in the slightest.

Just now, under the guidance of the insect cultivator Liu Shaofeng, he had condensed a spiritual imprint and implanted it into the queen bee’s body. It was perfectly natural that the queen would be exhausted and unable to bear the strain, requiring time to recover.

As for the other worker bees, the moment they sensed a stranger approaching, they had instantly grown agitated. Yet, the moment Zhou Changwang’s mind stirred and he activated the spiritual imprint within the queen, all the worker bees calmed at once.

They felt, emanating from Zhou Changwang, a spiritual aura identical to that of the queen, and so dared not act rashly. In fact, Zhou Changwang could even use that spiritual imprint to command these worker bees in battle—though not as smoothly as if he were controlling the queen herself.

“The methods of insect tamers are indeed extraordinary,” he mused. “No wonder they can command so many spirit insects in battle. Here I’ve only taken control of one queen, and already I can summon over thirty workers to fight alongside her. If there were more… would I not be unrivaled, unstoppable?”

Zhou Changwang was filled with awe and a deeper understanding of an insect tamer’s strength. Their cultivation realm might not be high, but with enough spirit insects, sheer numbers alone could overcome opponents of much greater power.

Take, for example, the owner of the manor—the Insect King Xue Tong. His own cultivation was only at the sixth stage of Qi Refinement, yet, according to the old man, he was a match for even seventh or eighth stage cultivators, all thanks to the endless swarms of spirit insects at his command.

In the world of cultivation, spirit insects were countless. There were not only the spirit locusts, burrowing beetles, and black-needle venom bees he had encountered in his own spirit fields; among them were top-tier insects that even Foundation Establishment cultivators and Golden Core masters regarded with dread.

Gazing at the gold-devouring spirit bees, Zhou Changwang considered for a moment and then hung their hive on a spiritual bamboo in the southeast corner. That location, bordered by a cliff to the south and a mountain to the east, would keep the bees from roaming into the market and harming passersby. Moreover, it was the same direction from which the black-needle venom bees had come. Surely, should the gold-devouring bees sense the approach of those venomous intruders, they would respond accordingly.

Among beasts, it is said that two tigers cannot share a mountain, and in the world of spirit insects, it is just as well-known that two hives cannot coexist on one peak—especially true for these two fierce, violent species. Whenever gold-devouring bees and black-needle venom bees cross paths, it is a fight to the death.

Beneath their new hive, Zhou Changwang spread out over a hundred catties of spiritual black iron and purple gold ore. Having just moved into a new home, the gold-devouring bees were still a bit unsettled, clinging close to their queen, alert to every stir in the air. Only after half an hour did the workers begin to fan out, exploring their surroundings in small groups.

The pile of spiritual ores below immediately caught their attention. One after another, bees would drop down, open their jaws, and begin to gnaw, producing a constant rasping sound. The black iron and purple gold ores, hard as steel, were like tender leaves in their mouths; before long, tiny holes appeared, and the bees swallowed the fragments whole.

“With such bite force, it’s no wonder they’re named gold-devouring bees,” Zhou Changwang thought, watching them settle in. At last, he could breathe a sigh of relief and turn his attention to tending his spirit fields.

Because of the trouble with the black-needle venom bees, he had barely weeded at all in recent days. To prevent the weeds from stealing the spiritual energy meant for his gathering grass and thunder-spirit rice trees, he set about pulling them up. Taking out his spiritual hoe, he began to dig.

He had to admit, after cultivating the Eight Forms of Primordial Heaven, his constitution had grown vastly stronger, his strength doubled. What had once required the aid of spiritual energy to dig through tough soil, he now accomplished with a single swing of his hoe, unaided.

He uprooted the weeds and seeds, piled them aside, then swept his hand and sent fireballs to incinerate each heap in the blink of an eye.

Repeating this process, he soon cleared all five acres of his fields. He then cast Rain Spell and Growth Spell, encouraging the gathering grass to flourish. Watching the lush growth and the increasing concentration of spiritual energy, Zhou Changwang felt a surge of joy.

Next came the thunder-spirit rice trees. Compared to the gathering grass, these had only been planted for about a month and were still in the sapling stage, with no sign of spirit rice forming yet. He understood this was their natural growth pattern. When there were only three trees, he could hasten their development with repeated Growth Spells, but with over five hundred trees now, even casting the spell would only have a modest effect spread evenly across them.

After more than ten Growth Spells, he switched to the Thousand Thunder Flash. One casting could encompass all the thunder-spirit rice trees. He unleashed two in succession, then paused. His plan was to cast three waves each day, slowly increasing his proficiency with Thousand Thunder Flash while accelerating the formation of spirit rice.

Having grown experience with these trees before, he was now adept at managing their growth.

“Hm?” At the moment he finished the second Thousand Thunder Flash, Zhou Changwang suddenly noticed two black-needle venom bees wobbling toward his fields from a distance.

The little spirit hound, ever vigilant, had clearly spotted them as well. Eagerly, it prepared to leap at them the moment they landed. But before it could make a move—

A swarm of gold-devouring bees shot out to meet the threat. With a single charge, the two black-needle venom bees were torn apart and devoured.

Though gold-devouring bees fed on metallic ores, their diet was by no means limited to such fare—they were fond of the flesh and blood of spirit beasts as well. The black-needle venom bees, for all their ugly and fearsome appearance, were in the eyes of the gold-devouring bees rich in spiritual energy, tender and delicious, and, crucially, no strain on their jaws—a perfect snack.

Seeing the gold-devouring bees so easily shred the venom bees, the little spirit hound shrank back, its head low in fear.

“Don’t worry, they won’t bite you,” Zhou Changwang reassured him. He had already commanded the bees never to attack the little hound; as long as it didn’t provoke them, they wouldn’t attack.

Watching the combat prowess of his new guardians, Zhou Changwang felt completely at ease. With them on duty, no foreign spirit insect would ever breach his fields again.

Thus, in the days that followed, Zhou Changwang was finally able to resume his normal cultivation routine—beginning each day with the Eight Forms of Primordial Heaven, ending with contemplation of the Grand Supreme Diagram.

“At last, another spell is about to reach perfection.” One day, standing before a thunder-spirit rice tree, he glanced at his attribute panel.

Spell: Growth Spell (Mastery 795/800)

The spell was nearly at its limit, soon to break through to perfection.

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At this, Zhou Changwang’s face lit with excitement. And what excited him even more was that beyond Growth Spell, his other spells—Calm Spirit, Fireball, Shielding, Lightness—had all reached the five or six hundred mark in mastery, not far from perfection themselves.

With a little more time and effort, he would soon have several spells at the perfected level, forming multiple spiritual imprints and spell seeds. This would mean a great deal for his strength, surely elevating it to a new height.

“But first, let’s push Growth Spell to perfection and see what difference a perfected spell seed makes,” Zhou Changwang thought, calming himself and continuing to cast the spell.

One, two, three...

Growth Spell +1

Growth Spell +1

Growth Spell +1

The instant he cast the fifth spell, a sudden shock ran through his mind. He felt a flash of inspiration in his sea of consciousness, and a special spell imprint emerged, intersecting with the one for Geng Metal Finger, each shining with its unique light.

The spell seed was formed. Growth Spell had reached perfection and would change no further.

Without thinking, he pointed at a thunder-spirit rice tree before him. Instantly, a surge of spiritual energy, several times greater than before, bathed the tree.

In the blink of an eye, the sapling, which had only reached his thigh, shot up past his waist to his chest. At the top, buds sprouted rapidly, splitting into a dozen branches, each crowned with a white flower bud.

“So this is the effect of a perfected Growth Spell seed?” Zhou Changwang was stupefied. He had expected that perfection would bring qualitative change, but to instantly mature a sapling into a tree on the verge of forming spirit rice—this was astounding, equivalent to a full month’s growth in an instant.

“But that makes sense—combining spiritual power, mental force, and the laws of heaven and earth produces extraordinary results,” he thought, calculating silently. With his current mental strength, he could cast twenty perfected Growth Spells in a row; for Geng Metal Finger, twelve.

This boost in mental strength, he had to admit, was owed to the Grand Supreme Diagram, which had increased it by half.

What’s more, even without relying on the spell seed, a perfected spell was now much more powerful than at mere mastery. For example, Growth Spell at mastery would boost a plant’s growth by ten days, but at perfection, by fifteen. This may seem only a 50% increase, but as plant growth is tied to spiritual energy, soil nutrients, and sunlight, that extra five days is extremely potent.

The spell seed’s thirty-day effect was already approaching the level of a ‘Dao’ rather than a mere ‘technique.’

...

In a grand estate, a hawk-nosed, sinister-looking middle-aged cultivator stood before a massive beehive, a trace of puzzlement in his eyes.

“Why do the black-needle venom bees seem fewer than before?” he muttered, glancing at the hive the size of a large round table, where countless worker bees swarmed. At the center was a queen as large as a grown man’s head. Whenever she turned, she would sweep aside a swath of workers. If one happened to blunder into her, she would snap it up and swallow it whole in an instant.

“Cannibalizing her own brood—she must be starving,” the cultivator realized, tossing out a large, bloody bone. The queen, scenting the meat, leaped down and began gnawing contentedly. With one bite, the iron-hard bone cracked; a few more and it split open, exposing tender marrow, which she sucked at her leisure.

...

“These gold-devouring bees have such an appetite—one hundred catties of metallic ore gone, and only fifty left already?” Zhou Changwang watched the bees, wincing at the thought. A hundred catties of ore wasn’t expensive—about three low-grade spirit stones. He had only paid ten for their hive, which was spun from refined metallic silk after the bees consumed ore. This high-purity material could be sold as a valuable component for crafting magical tools.

So, in a way, these bees could generate value. By regularly harvesting and selling their hives, he could recoup spirit stones.

But in less than ten days, they had devoured fifty catties of ore—a voracious appetite indeed. No wonder, despite their effectiveness in pest control, few spirit farmers chose to keep them. The monthly cost, over ten low-grade spirit stones, only grew with more bees. Even if their hives could be sold, the price was uncertain.

“Still, in this time, they’ve dealt with over forty or fifty black-needle venom bees—worth it. At least now I don’t need to worry about pests in my spirit fields.”

Zhou Changwang smiled with satisfaction—and noticed that the queen, now settled, had begun laying eggs. Inside the hive, over a dozen fat little larvae were being carefully tended by the workers.

“In another ten days or so, they’ll cocoon and mature.”

He was pleased with this development—the threat of the black-needle venom bees was not yet gone. While a couple at a time were easily dealt with, a larger swarm would be trouble. The more gold-devouring worker bees, the stronger the defense of his fields.

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The next morning, just as Zhou Changwang finished practicing the Eight Forms of Primordial Heaven, he heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” he called out warily. A familiar voice replied, “Fellow Daoist Zhou, it’s me.”

He opened the door and saw a familiar figure—Qian Xiaoyue. She had grown noticeably more radiant in the time they’d been apart, her white robe giving her the air of an immortal maiden, drawing every eye. More importantly, there was something different about her presence.

Zhou Changwang’s eyes widened. “Fellow Daoist Qian, you’ve had a breakthrough?”

She was clearly now at the fourth stage of Qi Refinement.

“Please, come in!”

She smiled broadly. “Yes, I just broke through. I’d meant to visit you earlier, but after joining Watercloud Pavilion, there were many new things to learn and a new cultivation method to adapt to. Only after I finally found some free time did I sense an unexpected opportunity during meditation and went into seclusion. Only a few days ago did I break through to the fourth stage.”

“My heartfelt congratulations, Fellow Daoist Qian. With this, your chances of entering Watercloud Immortal Sect in a year’s time must be much greater.”

Zhou Changwang couldn’t help but show a trace of envy. She had indeed enjoyed a stroke of fortune: befriending a senior sister of Watercloud Immortal Sect, joining Watercloud Pavilion, adopting a new cultivation method, and immediately advancing to the fourth stage—all enviable achievements, especially for those from humble backgrounds. She was an inspiration to all.

But his congratulations were sincere—she had been stuck at the third stage for almost a year, and this breakthrough was truly worth celebrating.

“It’s certainly a better chance now. But I was a rogue cultivator before, practicing alone and lacking a proper foundation, so I have some weaknesses to address,” Qian Xiaoyue nodded, then looked at his spacious courtyard in surprise. “But I must say, I’m amazed you actually rented such a big place—with a dedicated alchemy room, talisman room, and cultivation chamber?”

“Let me show you around. The rent is steep, but in hindsight, it’s worth it,” Zhou Changwang laughed, leading her through the rooms. The alchemy room was unused—he was no alchemist—but the talisman room’s tranquil atmosphere, the cultivation chamber’s walls of spell-forbidding stone, and the secret meditation chamber at the spiritual vein’s node—all drew her admiration.

“And then there’s the back courtyard—the main reason I splurged on this place. Five acres of top-grade spirit fields, and a pond over an acre wide. For me, it’s a perfect use of my skills.”

As they spoke, he led her to the back. Although he grew thunder-spirit rice trees there—a secret—he trusted Qian Xiaoyue enough to know she would never betray him. Besides, she was no spirit farmer or botanist; she wouldn’t recognize the thunder-spirit rice tree, extinct for eight centuries, and wouldn’t ask if he didn’t mention it.

The little spirit hound bounded up, hesitated a moment, then wagged its tail excitedly at Qian Xiaoyue, remembering her scent as a friend of its master.

“I can’t believe the little pup’s grown so much!” she exclaimed with a smile, petting the dog’s head, now up to her waist. Then she glanced at the fields and gasped, “Gathering grass? You’ve planted so much gathering grass?”

She had spent time in the Six Directions Pavilion’s alchemy room as a fan-waver, so she knew many medicinal herbs by sight—gathering grass was the key ingredient for spirit recovery pills, and she recognized it instantly.

“With so much field, I couldn’t let it go to waste, so I just planted a bit,” Zhou Changwang replied casually.

“A bit? That’s more than a bit!” Qian Xiaoyue rolled her eyes—she knew the price of gathering grass. The Pavilion offered one low-grade spirit stone per plant, but in truth, it often took a premium to acquire enough. Zhou had at least three thousand plants here, nearly ready for harvest—a return of over three thousand spirit stones.

“Fellow Daoist Zhou, have you found a buyer for this batch yet?” she asked carefully.

“No, but I’m not worried—it’s always in demand. I’ll just ask around when the time comes,” he said with a shake of his head.

“In that case, would you consider selling it to Watercloud Pavilion? Don’t worry, you’ll get a fair price. Actually, it’s no secret—the senior sister I mentioned is an elite disciple of Watercloud Immortal Sect, sent here to oversee Watercloud Pavilion’s branch in Fengming Wu Market and expand its influence. But, though Watercloud Immortal Sect is a great Daoist sect, this area is under Qingyuan Sect’s control, and the distance is great. Their influence here is limited, so business expansion is often met with obstacles, and it’s hard to secure enough materials. I’ve benefited greatly from my senior sister, so...”

Qian Xiaoyue looked anxious, as if afraid Zhou would refuse.

“So, you want to help your senior sister with her troubles?” Zhou Changwang replied with a smile.

(End of chapter)