Chapter 19

On the first day after the “lockdown” was lifted, Chun Chou and Ling Wuji did not go out.

They could easily imagine that those who ventured out on the first day would find more—and more valuable—spoils.

But for Chun Chou, that was no longer important.

Living steadily and safely was what mattered most.

When he arrived at the City Lord’s Manor, he did not seek anyone else. Instead, he went directly to find Steward Bai, who managed the Hundred Herbs Garden.

Sure enough, Steward Bai was alive and well. Upon seeing Chun Chou, he waved him over happily.

“Brother Chun Chou, come, come! If you hadn’t shown up today, I would have gone to your house to look for you. Here—this is your identity token for the Manor. Remember to carry it whenever you enter or leave.

“And this is the contract. Would you like to sign for one year or half a year? One year comes with a monthly salary of three hundred and fifty low-grade spirit stones. Half a year is three hundred.”

Chun Chou hesitated, then said, “Half a year, please. Someone I know went to Guiyuan Sect. I’d like to go see how he’s doing.”

He was actually referring to his younger siblings.

But he and Ling Wuji had registered as coming from Wunie City. It would not make sense to suddenly claim to have many younger siblings—especially siblings who had gone to Guiyuan Sword Sect, the number one sect on the Guiyuan Continent. That would make their origins seem far too suspicious.

Steward Bai sighed. “I could tell from the beginning you stayed for the identity papers. Still, half a year is better than nothing.”

He revised the employment contract and handed it over.

“Come at the beginning of the si hour and leave at the end of the shen hour each day. Once you’ve signed, I’ll take you to see the spirit herbs and fields you’ll be responsible for.”

Chun Chou scanned both copies carefully. Seeing no issues, he signed his name. He and Steward Bai each kept one copy.

“Spirit fields?” he asked in surprise.

Steward Bai chuckled. “That’s right. I told the City Lord how you once revived a Profound-rank Marrow-Cleansing Grass. So she specially assigned you a plot of spirit field and a herb garden to manage. Come—I’ll show you around, and also tell you which areas of the Manor you may enter and which you may not.”

Only then did Chun Chou realize just how enormous the City Lord’s Manor was.

According to Steward Bai, it was comparable in size to a mid-sized cultivation sect. Everything was available inside—dedicated halls for alchemy, artifact forging, array research, talisman drawing. There were also areas for cultivating spirit herbs and plants—the Hundred Herbs Garden in the eastern section of the Manor.

They rode there on a flying paper crane.

Chun Chou: “……”

Fortunately, they had flown. Otherwise, just commuting to work would have taken an entire hour each day.

He wondered whether the Manor provided these flying paper cranes. Paying to go to work would be rather unprofitable.

Before he could figure out how to ask, they had already arrived at the gate of the Hundred Herbs Garden.

Yet upon entering, the first thing he saw was not herb fields but an imposing seven-story building.

Steward Bai brought him inside and gave him an introduction, then led him to collect his monthly salary.

It was contained in a storage talisman: three hundred low-grade spirit stones, sixty flying paper cranes, thirty boxed meals, sixty low-grade recording stones, two sets of low-grade robes, one bottle of Bigu Pills, and one bottle of Spirit-Condensing Pills—both Yellow-rank, low-grade, thirty pills per bottle.

Chun Chou blinked and looked at Steward Bai with wide, innocent eyes.

Steward Bai beamed. “Our City Lord’s Manor is very generous! And besides this, Manor staff receive a twenty percent discount at all shops operated by the Manor. If you’re willing to work here long-term as a spirit plant cultivator, your life would be even better. We never treat our own people poorly.”

Chun Chou: “……”

He really was a little tempted.

After examining his salary again, he said stiffly, “Please allow me some time to think it over.”

Steward Bai did not press him. Chun Chou clearly had talent worth cultivating—but with such clear benefits, the Manor need not worry about attracting good spirit plant cultivators.

(How Steward Bai would later regret this is another matter.)

For now, Chun Chou felt that the treatment here was indeed good, and the wood spiritual energy was abundant. It was a fine place.

Except—

There were no holidays.

Steward Bai explained, “You may have one day off every ten days. However, if you do not take any leave within six months, the Manor will award you an additional one thousand spirit stones.”

Chun Chou: “……”

Capitalists are detestable everywhere.

Fine. He simply wouldn’t take leave.

Steward Bai then personally showed him one of his assigned work areas: a three-mu spirit field planted entirely with newly sown Yellow-rank Marrow-Cleansing Grass seeds.

Chun Chou: “……”

Well. He had first been noticed for reviving a Profound-rank Marrow-Cleansing Grass. Continuing to cultivate Marrow-Cleansing Grass was only fitting.

He twitched at the corner of his mouth.

The field was surrounded by restrictions. There was a small wooden hut, a well, stone tables and chairs, hoes and tools—everything was fully equipped.

Steward Bai handed him a jade pendant.

“This is the key to entering this three-mu field—and to activating the restrictions.”

He added meaningfully,

“There are many spirit plant cultivators here. Everyone has different tasks—and different intentions. Brother Chun Chou… one must always guard against others.”

Chun Chou said, “…I understand.”

Steward Bai then took him, again riding a flying paper crane, to another spirit field. He handed Chun Chou another jade token for entry and activating the restrictions.

“This is the token for this area,” he said, pointing at the ten mu of spirit bamboo that had just sprouted. “All of this is under your care. The City Lord said that if the bamboo flowers and produces even a single bamboo seed, there will be an additional reward—very generous.”

Bamboo seeds were known as bamboo rice—the seeds of the bamboo itself. Bamboo rarely flowered, and when it did, entire groves would wither and die afterward.

There were even rumors that the king of birds, the phoenix, would perch only on parasol trees and eat only bamboo seeds.

For ordinary mortals, the appearance of bamboo seeds was no blessing. But for cultivators, bamboo seeds were exceedingly precious. For even one seed, sacrificing ten mu of spirit bamboo would be worthwhile.

Still, ordinary bamboo took more than a decade—sometimes decades—to flower. Spirit bamboo required even more time, and fortune.

Chun Chou: “…But I’m only staying here for half a year.”

How could this bamboo possibly flower and bear fruit within six months?

Steward Bai chuckled. “Brother Chun Chou’s talent in nurturing spirit plants is extraordinary. Perhaps you will have such fortune?”

Chun Chou: “……”

Steward Bai then grew serious.

“According to the Manor’s rules, spirit plant cultivators must cast the Growth Technique, Cloud-Rain Technique, and Gengjin Technique once each day on every spirit herb field and spirit field under their care. The process must be recorded with a recording stone. When you leave each day, you must submit that day’s recording.

“As for how you tend them after those three spells—that depends on your own methods. However, at regular intervals, you must submit a certain quantity of spirit herbs and plants. If the amount is slightly insufficient, within reasonable limits, the Manor will merely dismiss the cultivator. But if it is beyond reasonable limits… heh.”

Chun Chou: “……”

Please stop saying “heh.” He was beginning to lose all sense of what that word even meant.

Steward Bai changed tone again. “However, if you exceed the required amount, there will be additional rewards. Brother Chun Chou can rest assured—the Manor does not treat its own people unfairly.”

After clarifying the required quotas and calculating carefully in his mind, Chun Chou felt reassured.

Steward Bai had many affairs to attend to. After giving his instructions, he departed.

Left alone before the ten mu of spirit bamboo, Chun Chou twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Three hundred low-grade spirit stones a month… were not so easily earned after all.

Each of his techniques—Growth, Cloud-Rain, and Gengjin—currently covered about three mu at a time. To care for ten mu of bamboo and three mu of Marrow-Cleansing Grass meant he would need to cast each of the three techniques four rounds per day.

By the time he finished those four rounds—factoring in pauses to meditate and recover spiritual energy, plus running back and forth—an entire morning would be gone.

He could use Spirit-Condensing Pills to recover faster, but if he refrained, he could save them. Chun Chou suspected most spirit plant cultivators here chose not to use them.

At noon, the Manor provided a meal—three dishes, rice, and a bit of spirit fruit. The food was infused with spiritual energy and tasted decent. The thirty Bigu Pills could be saved entirely.

Only in the afternoon did he truly have spare time. As long as the spirit plants showed no issues, cultivators could use the abundant wood spiritual energy of the Hundred Herbs Garden to cultivate.

Considering the “employee benefits”—the Spirit-Condensing Pills and Bigu Pills he could save, the flying paper cranes and recording stones (one per day was enough; the rest could be kept), plus the twenty percent discount at Manor shops—it was, in truth, quite a good job.

Except for the lack of holidays.

With that, Chun Chou officially began work.

Perhaps because it was his first day and he had started late, it was already past noon by the time he finished casting all three techniques across the ten mu of bamboo and three mu of Marrow-Cleansing Grass, recording everything.

After lunch, he made another careful inspection of both fields.

The Marrow-Cleansing Grass posed no issue; producing the required amount every three months would not be difficult.

The spirit bamboo, under normal cultivation, could meet the required monthly yield of harvested bamboo. But producing bamboo seeds within six months—that would require careful thought.

Finally, Chun Chou meditated for an hour in the bamboo field before riding his little donkey home.

On the way back, the donkey’s keen nose proved unexpectedly useful. It led Chun Chou to seven demonic beast cores and two blood-stained storage pouches.

Chun Chou: “……”

Honestly, if he simply roamed around scavenging instead of working at the Manor, he might earn quite a bit during this period.

When he returned home, Ling Wuji had not yet come back.

However, he had left a note:

“I will return late. Do not worry. Thinking of you.”

Chun Chou read the note three or four times before the corner of his lips curved upward.

He fed the spirit chickens and pigs again, cleaned their pens, then tended his small herb garden and the pots on the rooftop with the Growth, Cloud-Rain, and Gengjin Techniques before sitting down to cultivate and restore his spiritual energy.

Then, without warning, everything changed.

Just as his spiritual energy fully recovered and he was about to stand, a sharp pain stabbed through his head.

He immediately collapsed, clutching his skull and rolling across the ground.

It felt as if someone were forcibly tearing something out of his body.

The pain was so intense he could not even scream. He nearly bit off his own tongue. He hurriedly pulled a piece of clothing from his storage ring and shoved it into his mouth, biting down hard.

The agony lasted roughly three minutes.

By the end, Chun Chou was drenched in cold sweat, his entire body trembling.

And then—

He suddenly froze.

He sat there blankly on the ground, still biting the cloth without realizing it.

It was at that moment that Ling Wuji returned.

Seeing the night-luminescent pearl glowing on the rooftop, he knew Chun Chou was there. With his spiritual sense, he lifted himself upward to the roof.

And then he saw the boy.

The boy’s skin was pale as snow, his features delicate as if painted. His eyes were like a young deer’s—innocent, stirring pity. Though his appearance was strikingly beautiful, he seemed utterly pure and harmless. If he ever chose to deceive others deliberately, who knew how many hearts he might capture.

At this moment, however, he sat pitifully on the ground, still biting into a worn piece of clothing.

Ling Wuji halted.

His Adam’s apple shifted slightly.

His fists tightened, only after a brief pause did he hurry forward.

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