Chapter 48: The Divine Fruit of Lanting

In the ninth year of Emperor Ai of Song, Yuan Yi raised an army and, within seven days, shattered the hundred thousand defenders of Hejian, scattering their ranks and leaving countless dead and wounded.

By mid-June, the capital offered its surrender.

Yuan Yi founded a new dynasty, naming it Great Liang, and established the capital at Jianye.

...

Chen Yu sat in the courtyard, his mind replaying the words of Jiang Qin'an. Their conversation had not been limited to philosophy; they had also discussed the situation below the mountain. Of course, Jiang spoke most of the time, while Chen Yu merely listened, occasionally echoing a few sentiments.

Their exchanges were largely sighs over the times, expressions of sympathy for the common people, and speculations about what the future might bring.

The Yuan clan had founded the Great Liang, standing firm south of the great river for twenty-one years. Yet the world was no more peaceful than before; just as with the previous Great Song—thirty years of rule, and not a single moment free from warfare and strife.

To seek true peace and tranquility, one would have to trace back through time more than a hundred years to find days so blessed.

Then, the ruler of the realm still bore the name Zhao.

But fifty years ago, the northern Gao clan destroyed the mighty Zhao, dividing the land into north and south.

The north was called Qi, the south Song.

Afterward, north and south attacked and defended in turn, and uprisings sprang up like mushrooms after the rain, suppressed without end. For a time, the realm was a landscape of ceaseless slaughter, corpses piled and pressed against one another, a scene of utter misery.

Even with Yuan Liang replacing Song, there was nowhere in the land that knew true peace.

“What’s the use of thinking about all this?”

Chen Yu shook his head in self-mockery. Could he possibly descend the mountain and win the world with nothing but flashy, empty martial arts?

Better to wash up and go to sleep.

He was well aware of his limitations; as a man, he could sympathize, he could lament, but he must never overestimate himself.

...

Jiang Qin'an’s arrival had not much altered Chen Yu’s daily life. The invitation clearly stated that the ritual for the Nine Miracles and Universal Life was scheduled to begin in early May, with over a month still to go.

He had plenty of time to prepare—though, in truth, there was not much to consider. When the time came, he would likely pack a bag, bring some silver, and set off.

Aside from the news Jiang brought, which gave him some understanding of the situation below the mountain, everything else remained unchanged.

Thus, two days passed uneventfully.

During this time, he dealt with many trivial matters, the most noteworthy being that he had finally clarified the effects of the Lanting Fruit after its spirit catalyst transformation. The results were not remarkable, but Chen Yu’s sharp eye had caught the subtle changes.

Surprisingly, the round fruit had almost no effect on the physical body, but manifested in the spirit.

He tried one and felt a momentary clarity of mind.

After several experiments, he discerned its uses. For now, it served two main purposes: one, simply increasing the amount of spiritual power—which was only so-so, given the existence of spiritual elixir.

The other, however, delighted Chen Yu for days.

It refined the spirit, improving its quality.

Undoubtedly, this effect was worth special attention. In the past two days, he had already noticed that, with continuous use of spiritual elixir, his spiritual power not only accumulated slowly but the rate of growth was diminishing.

With refinement, he could accumulate more spiritual power.

Even if he still did not know the purpose of this intangible force, Chen Yu, always eager to improve, decided to make the Lanting Fruit a key project for future transplantation and cultivation.

All in all, the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

Moreover, the mutated fruit tasted exceptional. The original sweet and slightly tart flavor now had a crispness to the flesh, no longer soft and mushy.

As it enhanced the spirit, he decided to name it Divine Lanting Fruit.

Holding the fruit, Chen Yu took a bite.

The Divine Lanting Fruit, evolved from the original, bore two types: he had thought each might possess unique effects, but discovered differences only in taste.

The round kind tasted like an orange rolled in crispy pastry; the elongated type, reminiscent of a honeydew melon from his previous life.

Both, however, were a cut above in flavor, particularly fresh and delicious.

“If I were to serve these to Daoist Jiang, I wonder how he would react.”

With a laugh, Chen Yu finished the remainder in a few bites. He would never let them leave his hands—he barely had enough for himself.

From a successful Lanting Fruit plant, only about twenty Divine Fruits hung, and judging by the speed of refinement he had measured, it would take hundreds more to advance his spirit another level.

And he was no unfeeling machine, unable to stuff his mouth endlessly.

To pursue improvement deliberately was to miss the mark.

Meanwhile, the vegetable sprout buds had produced no results.

Brother Chicken remained just that—not a king among chickens, nor a sage. Plenty of brute force, but little intelligence.

He had slapped the rooster countless times, yet it remained undaunted, always ready for a fight, always defeated.

“Is it my imagination, or does Brother Chicken have a little belly now?”

He realized it was probably due to his constant feeding—every meal was like a farewell feast, and instead of seeing the chicken off, he had welcomed a layer of fat.

…

Lifting its wings, Chen Yu rubbed the rooster’s feathers, now glossier and brighter thanks to the cleansing herb regimen.

The feel was superb, even better than stroking the greedy deer a few days before.

“No good, Brother Chicken. You can’t just grow fat and give me no experimental data.”

The vegetable sprout had been fed for two or three days; he’d given it twice more, yet the result was unchanged.

The big red rooster showed no abnormality—no good, no bad, not a single change.

Ultimately, Chen Yu put the rooster down and went to the coop to check on the hen that had eaten the Divine Lanting Fruit and been returned.

The Divine Fruit boosted spiritual power, but only slightly, especially with half a fruit; the hen was still as dazed as ever, though more spirited, now guarding a brood of chicks in the coop.

He wondered, if animals ate more Divine Lanting Fruits, would they continue to change, grow clever, lively, even become sentient?

Chen Yu could not help but imagine: if so, would they become spirits?

Then he dismissed the notion. Without the support of the physical body, spiritual power could not grow without limit.

Take himself, for example: the elixir’s effect was even stronger than the fruit, yet recently, his improvement had slowed, the gains diminished. Had it not been for the elixir’s refining and compression, he might have reached his spiritual limit already.

Returning his attention, Chen Yu confirmed the hen had no aftereffects and headed to the storeroom.

The wooden boards holding grain seeds were neatly placed there, three in all. Over the past two days, he had gradually planted the herbs and medicinal seeds he’d gathered and bought from the pharmacy, following his plan.

Yet medicinal herbs and seeds required a strict environment, far more difficult to cultivate than grains and vegetables.

It was not enough to simply dig some earth and add a few drops of spirit catalyst.

So Chen Yu had to make choices, selecting the least picky to plant.

Three types of medicinal seeds, five herbs.

Sparsely buried in clay pots, watered and fertilized with care, yet three herbs had died, leaving only two, both listless and seemingly ready to follow the others.

Fortunately, they endured; though not vigorous, they still stood firm.

As for grain seeds and medicinal seeds, they had yet to sprout. It would take some time.

Glancing over them, Chen Yu left. The Origin Spirit Root in the backyard herb garden should be ripe, and he had nearly exhausted his spiritual elixir, especially in recent days, when the Reed Ginseng Paste combined with the Spirit-Calling Strength Technique had raised his absorption efficiency to a new level.

“The Reed Ginseng Paste is running low. I must prepare in advance.”

Looking back at the mountain, Chen Yu decided he would need another trip into the hills. This time, he would not visit the deep ravine, but planned to search along the streams that bordered the mountain.