I've been slacking off day after day, and I always feel like I'm just freeloading.
I was a little puzzled: "I remember that before the New Year, many people came to the backyard to exchange money for medicine. Wasn't business good? Why is it so desolate now?"
The shop assistant, having nothing better to do, lazily swung the nearly worn-out rag in his hand at the counter and sighed: "With Mr. Yuan's skill in turning stomach medicine prescriptions into laxatives, if it weren't for the rare and precious medicinal herbs that I and Mr. Zhou send over every day, which are not available in other pharmacies, and the fact that we rely on the herbs that wealthy families spend a lot of money to buy to make tonics to nourish the body and keep this pharmacy afloat, ordinary people wouldn't dare to come here to get their medicine when they need it."
The ordinary medicinal herbs you see collected during the few days of the Lunar New Year are probably not enough to sell out in a year.
Since Mr. Zhou passed away, the supply of rare medicinal herbs has run out, and even wealthy families have stopped patronizing the pharmacy. Mr. Yuan has also been listless lately and doesn't care about the pharmacy at all. If this continues, the pharmacy will probably have to go out of business.
So that's how it is.
"A powerful tonic... a powerful tonic..." I muttered to myself, when suddenly a thought struck me: "How much can a ten-thousand-year-old ginseng sell for?"
The waiter chuckled: "I've never sold a 10,000-year-old ginseng before, but a 100-year-old ginseng can sell for ten taels of silver. Wouldn't a 10,000-year-old one be worth ten taels of gold? But this stuff is extremely rare and hard to find, let alone a 10,000-year-old one. That's just a legend."
My eyes lit up: "Ten taels of gold! Wouldn't that be enough for Wen Heng and me to live a life of leisure for fifty years without any problem?"
Haha, sometimes legends might actually be based on facts.
Thinking back to those countless years of boredom, staring at the ginseng tree on the opposite mountain, carrying bulging luggage and hiding here and there was my only pastime, which still comes in handy now.
I never imagined that I would go from being an observer to a participant.
Now that I think of that old ginseng man, he's like a piece of moving gold. I also had some wicked thoughts. I wanted to prove that if even I, who had been watching his whereabouts for a thousand years, couldn't catch him, then who in the world could catch him?
Before Mr. Yuan took me in, I was always tied up with Wen Heng, so I couldn't leave this place for too long.
Recently, Mr. Yuan has been asking Zhou Lang to play Go with him, and he seems to enjoy it very much.
So I took this opportunity to find a reason to entrust Wenheng to Mr. Yuan and the pharmacy clerk to help look after, while I stepped into the long-lost Taihang Mountains.
I vaguely remember that when I first came out of the mountains, it took me almost five days to walk from that mountain range that stretched for thousands of miles to the foot of the West Mountain.
Now, carrying a hoe and with a clear goal, I reached the mountain range in just three days, and I have to admire myself.
When I arrived at the mountain range where the ginseng old man lived, based on my understanding of plant spirits, I knew that the spiritual energy was weakest at noon. So I carried a hoe and went to the corner where the ginseng old man often hid, which was filled with misty spiritual energy, and prepared to dig up his nest at noon when he was not paying attention.
However, I was probably too confident. After all, this old man has managed to evade all sorts of demons and monsters for nearly ten thousand years without being captured, so he must have some skill.
When I swung the hoe and, with swift, precise, and ruthless movements, dug up the ginseng root, which was gleaming with a faint white light, from that secluded, misty corner, I truly succeeded.
Just as I reached out with shining eyes to grab it, the cunning old man used a teleportation technique and slipped away like a slippery fish.
Knowing yourself and your enemy is the key to victory in every battle; this has always been the old man's approach.
I knew perfectly well that he was hiding right behind me at this very moment.
With lightning speed, I turned around and dug down with a hoe, and sure enough, I caught it again.
Just as I was triumphantly grabbing the original form of that white ginseng, another teleportation technique struck, and I watched helplessly as the cunning ginseng escaped once again.
Well, I refuse to believe it. I'm just a flower bud who's been watching tricks for thousands of years, and I can't catch this ginseng spirit.
And so, I repeatedly caught this ginseng with perfect aim, only to have it slip away from my grasp time and again.
I have no magic. If I had magic, would such a crude spell have slipped through my fingers? I stubbornly argued with this ginseng until sunset, then, dragging my exhausted body, which was about to collapse, I plopped down on the ground.
The old ginseng must have also regained his spiritual power and transformed into human form, because at this moment I noticed that he was sitting on a branch of a tree above my head, covering his mouth and chuckling.
I thought to myself, after all, it's an old monster. If I, a thousand-year-old monster who has been punished by heaven, were to take it by force, I would definitely fail. Right now, I can only outsmart it.
"Hey, do you want to know why some spirits have cultivated for nearly ten thousand years without ever achieving immortality? I came here specifically to guide some people, you know. It seems that some spirits are indeed not destined for immortality. In that case, farewell forever." I pretended to sigh as I got up, patted my butt, and prepared to leave.
"..."
"I am a stranger to you, young lady, so why do you want to ferry me across?" The old man finally spoke above me, but he seemed somewhat skeptical of my purpose in coming here.
To gain my trust, I pointed to a high peak opposite and said sincerely, "Do you see that tallest mountain over there? I am a thousand-year-old flower spirit growing on that cliff. You may not know me, but I grew up watching you carry your luggage and hide from place to place every day. Although you are not my relative, you are more than a relative to me, a little flower spirit without relatives. Every time I see you, an old man, still running around trying to escape, I feel very distressed and hate that I am powerless to help you."
My empathetic and generous words seemed to touch upon the old ginseng's heartache over the past ten thousand years.
I heard a trembling, sobbing sound coming from the tree trunk above me, so I added even more emotion: "The mountain god here once revealed to me a secret technique for becoming an immortal. I was punished by heaven and came here to help you. Since you don't appreciate it, I won't be presumptuous."
"Girl, wait a minute!" The old man revealed his true form like a monkey, leaping down from the tree and blocking me with his arm.
"Are you the little flower fairy who grows on the top of that mountain?" he asked me again to confirm.
Sure enough, they took the bait. I proudly tilted my head back and said, "Yes, that's right."
No sooner had I finished speaking than "smack!"—my buttocks were suddenly and violently whipped by a flying vine.
"Ouch!" I cried out in surprise, clutching my sore bottom, and jumped up, yelling at the old ginseng man, "Why did you hit me!"
"You brat, why did I hit you? If you hadn't told me you were the little flower fairy on that mountain peak, you wouldn't have deserved a beating. You dared to ask for trouble and reveal your name. Do you think I don't know you were secretly laughing at me from that mountain peak?"
Do you think I don't know about the curses I've been told, that I carry around bulging luggage like some ancient tortoise or monster? Grandpa, if it weren't for the fact that my roots are here and I can't leave this mountain, I would have already spanked you. Today you've come looking for trouble; I'll beat you to death!
After saying that, he raised the rattan whip and lashed it at me again.
Good heavens, I've been too clever for my own good and ended up shooting myself in the foot.
"No, who told you that? I never said that about you." I denied it to the death, but I really was like a turtle. I was both amused and exasperated, but I didn't dare say it out loud, afraid he would beat me to death.
"Still not admitting it? Little fish spirit, come and confront her! Did she say that?!" He pointed to a small carp on the bank of a stream ahead, its fish eyes glaring as if it were enjoying the show. As I approached, the little carp squirmed in surprise and disappeared in a flash.
When he said that, it reminded me of a small river at the foot of my mountain. When I was bored, I would often pick up small stones and throw them into the river to skip across the water. Occasionally, I would see a small carp resting in the river being hit by a stone I threw, its eyes rolling back and its tail wagging as it swam away.
I never imagined these fish could become spirits! They've even learned to tattle and take revenge. What a karmic retribution!
Before, people would chase after the old ginseng all over the mountain, but today he finally got a chance and seemed to vent all the resentment he had accumulated over millions of years on me, so he chased me all over the mountain with all his might.
Although experience counts, it's no match for my youth and strength. In the end, his old bones gave way and he collapsed to the ground, exhausted: "I'm not chasing anymore! I'm tired!"
I shamelessly moved closer to him again: "But I really do have a secret recipe to help you cultivate into an immortal as soon as possible."
This is indeed true. I heard it from Uncle Mountain God. All living things have a fundamental basis for survival. There must be a reason why God created you from this world.
Actually, the reason why I, this little flower spirit, was able to cultivate for a thousand years and become a spirit, and receive enlightenment from Uncle Mountain God, is because if it weren't for that bastard Wen Heng, I would probably be a little flower fairy by now. The reason for my enlightenment is actually due to the unique spiritual power and medicinal effects of the single-root flower that I was born with.
My greatest medicinal advantage as a herbal essence is that it can strengthen the body and detoxify all poisons when consumed.
The old man said that if I picked a flower from my petals and gave it to someone in the mortal realm who possessed the bloodline of the dragon, they would receive good fortune. This dragon bloodline was a drop of dragon blood that the Heavenly Emperor had dropped into the mortal realm, capable of suppressing demons and monsters and ensuring the stability of the land.
The person who possesses the blood of the Heavenly Emperor is the emperor who governs the stability of the mortal people and is above all others. This mortal emperor has consumed my spiritual power, which has restored the vitality of the dragon vein and extended the time for him to benefit the people. All the people in the world have extended their peaceful and prosperous lives thanks to the spiritual energy of this flower that I offered. This blessing will naturally fall on me. Then, isn't it just a matter of time before I cultivate into an immortal?
But why can't most spirits and monsters in the world cultivate into immortals even after tens of thousands of years? It's because they can't let go of their spiritual energy and are unwilling to give it away for free. Without the blessings bestowed by heaven, how can they easily attain immortality with their own cultivation? Immortality is the great path of life and death. Birth is death, and death is life. Life goes on and on.
If you understand this, you have attained enlightenment; but most people either fall into demonic possession or become part of the chaos of the universe.
Although I am not that enlightened, the mountain god, through coercion and enticement, used my spiritual power to help me scatter and aid kind and suffering mortals in need without my knowledge. In addition, I offered it to the mortal emperor, which opened up the spiritual energy of heaven and earth for me, so I was able to quickly cultivate into an immortal.
Otherwise, if I were to cling to my spiritual energy and cultivate it relentlessly every day, I would probably end up like this old monster, unable to attain immortality for ten thousand years.
Sigh, thinking of Uncle Mountain God fills me with bitterness.
So what I'm saying is this: "You have to learn to give up some of your spiritual power to those in need. Heaven created you, this ginseng spirit that can prolong life, not for your own benefit, but to give you the spirit of selfless dedication. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth will naturally open up for you, and the path to immortality will follow you."
"What you say makes sense! So I must offer my spiritual power to the emperor and to kind-hearted people in the mortal world who are in need?" The ginseng old man was skeptical.
"Hmm...that's commendable!" I nodded in approval.
Seeing his continued hesitation, she said, "If my spiritual power is too weak, it will be easy for demons and monsters to discover my whereabouts."
"Why don't you give me a few strands of your hair or beard to try and see?"
But under my relentless barrage of words, the old ginseng man finally gritted his teeth, stamped his foot, and steeled himself to pluck out a few strands of his own hair and hand them to me.
The moment that strand of hair touched my palm, it instantly transformed into several white ginseng roots.
I patted his shoulder and said passionately, "Grandpa Shen, with our family-like relationship, don't worry, I will definitely help you cultivate to become an immortal as soon as possible."
The old man glanced at me and brandished the rattan whip in front of me: "If I find out you've lied to me, I'll beat your buttocks until they're bruised and battered the next time I see you!"
I nodded in agreement, but inwardly I cursed, "What kind of bullshit Great Dao is this? When you deliberately perform great acts of kindness in the name of cultivating immortality, you have already violated the Dao of Heaven, and I, who have been punished by Heaven, will certainly not help others walk this Great Dao!"
When I ran down the mountain with the ginseng rootlets in my arms, I finally breathed a sigh of relief: "I wonder if he'll beat me to death when he finds out I was trading them for gold ingots?"
Never mind, this is ten taels of gold.
I excitedly trekked over mountains and valleys for three days before finally returning to the foot of the long-missed West Mountain. To my surprise, I saw Mr. Yuan looking flustered, taking unsteady steps as he tried to climb a mountain peak.
"Uncle Yuan, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on Zhou Lang? Where is he?" I asked, puzzled.
His brows furrowed, and his gaze fell upon the summit of a mountain not far away: "I don't know what's wrong with this Dr. Zhou. I was resting in the courtyard after lunch today, and in the blink of an eye, he ran out as if possessed, his expression unfocused. He climbed that peak, and no matter how I called him, he wouldn't respond. My old bones simply can't catch up with him."
I turned to look at the high mountain cliff, and there Wen Heng was indeed standing there, as if bewitched, his body woodenly moving slowly toward the edge of the cliff. My heart trembled instantly.
"Uncle Yuan, you should go back down the mountain and rest! This mountain is too high and rugged for you to climb. Leave it to me." With that, I hurried towards the mountain peak.
I kept calling Zhou Lang's name as I struggled to climb.
But Wen Heng seemed not to hear my calls and continued to walk woodenly toward the edge of the cliff.
But as he reached the open space in the middle of the mountain, dark clouds suddenly gathered in the sky and swept in with overwhelming force.
"Crack!" Amidst the dark clouds, a thunderclap followed, splitting the ground around Wen Heng's feet into a series of hideous cracks.
Amidst a violent earthquake, a stream of black, demonic smoke burst forth from the crack, crawling like a vicious python towards Wen Heng, coiling around him again and again.
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