Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. Early one morning, Xu Ziqing carried a thick copy of The Medicine King’s Secret Manual to a flat slab of bluestone, sat down beside it, and began reading carefully.
This was the third book he had read. He had already memorized the first two over the past half month. Fortunately, his memory was quite good now. Otherwise, tomes that routinely ran to more than a thousand pages would have been nearly impossible to get through.
Old He had gone out early to tend the spiritual herbs, leaving Xu Ziqing alone to study. By now, Xu Ziqing was used to it. He turned the pages one by one, quickly committing each herb’s habits, growing conditions, appearance, medicinal properties, and various other effects to memory, then recited them over and over until they were firmly fixed in his mind.
After so many days, Xu Ziqing had come to understand Steward He’s way of doing things. He might look scruffy and careless about appearances, but his love for spiritual herbs was utterly sincere. That was why, after Xu Ziqing arrived at the Hundred Herbs Garden, Steward He first made him learn to identify spiritual herbs and understand the knowledge surrounding them, without teaching him any cultivation art.
Xu Ziqing had a steady, quiet temperament and had always liked flowers and plants. Faced with so many strange and marvelous varieties now, his interest was naturally piqued. Steward He hardly needed to say a word before Xu Ziqing began clutching those heavy old books from morning to night, reluctant to put them down. Immortal affinity, cultivation, and everything else had been tossed clean out of his mind.
Another hour or so passed before Xu Ziqing reluctantly closed the book and stretched.
Old He rose at six every morning and spent the next two hours tending the spiritual herbs. Xu Ziqing used that time for his first round of reciting the ancient texts. At around eight, he would prepare breakfast and bring it to Old He. If the old man happened to be in a good mood, he would point out several actual spiritual herbs for Xu Ziqing to identify, and Xu Ziqing would carefully commit those to memory as well.
Afterward, Xu Ziqing would be sent back to continue reciting. At noon, he prepared lunch. Once they had eaten, he washed the bowls and chopsticks, spent two hours sweeping and cleaning, resumed his recitation, prepared dinner, washed both their clothes, then went back to studying until Old He retired at around ten at night. Only then would Xu Ziqing sleep as well.
All told, he spent twelve to fourteen hours a day memorizing books, which ought to have been unbearably tedious. But because it interested him, Xu Ziqing did not find it boring in the least. He relished every moment and only wished there were more hours in the day.
Old He saw it all and quietly took note.
As usual, Xu Ziqing prepared breakfast, this time a pot of rice porridge mixed with fragrant leaves, fresh, soft, and easy to eat. He filled two bamboo tubes, carried them along the narrow path, and entered the medicinal garden in front.
The stream running through the middle still murmured pleasantly, its water chiming over the stones. Xu Ziqing had been here long enough to notice that the ground on the two banks was deliberately set at different heights.
Only after Old He explained it did Xu Ziqing understand. Different spiritual herbs had different temperaments. Some liked higher ground while others feared it; some loved sunlight while others shunned it; some preferred moisture, while others favored dry conditions. To keep each spiritual herb thriving, one had to accommodate its nature. Otherwise, it might fail to survive or grow with poor quality, and sooner or later the clan would come looking for someone to blame.
Xu Ziqing listened humbly and forced himself to memorize everything. He had considered taking notes, but Old He would not allow it. Thinking about it, that made sense. Anything worth learning had to be thoroughly digested before it could truly be put to use. Otherwise, when the time came to actually do the work, he would still make a complete mess of things.
There was plenty of time ahead, so Xu Ziqing was in no hurry. He simply learned at his own pace and waited until Old He decided he was ready to work with the herbs himself.
Old He was crouched in front of a flower bed, his hands busy with something. Xu Ziqing approached quietly and squatted beside him without a word.
After so many days, Xu Ziqing knew that Old He did not mind having him follow along and learn this way.
Today, Old He was removing a companion weed from a patch of Golden Thread Grass. With his left hand, he gently brushed aside the grass near its roots. In his right, he held a fine silver needle, which he used to tease up a hair-thin stem where it emerged from the soil close to the roots. A flick of his wrist sent the tiny stem into a porcelain bowl beside him.
Xu Ziqing recognized Golden Thread Grass. It was a perennial spiritual herb that favored abundant sunlight and rooted itself in damp places near water. According to the Illustrated Guide to Spiritual Herbs, there would always be a water source within a hundred meters of any place where Golden Thread Grass grew.
After it was planted, the herb took roughly a hundred days to grow its first leaf, then another hundred days for its second. This continued until it had ten leaves, at which point the plant stood about one chi tall and stopped producing more. A white thread ran down the center of each leaf. As the years passed, those white threads gradually turned gold. Not every one of a Golden Thread Grass plant’s ten leaves would necessarily develop a golden thread. Three-leaf Golden Thread Grass was the most commonly seen, while a ten-leaf specimen was practically the stuff of legend.
Elio’s Notes: A chi (尺) is a traditional Chinese unit of length. The source uses it for both the Golden Thread Grass’s height and the whip-section length, so the original unit is preserved rather than silently converted.
Golden Thread Grass was neither delicate nor especially difficult to grow, yet it was still considered a rare spiritual herb. Why? Because from the moment it broke through the soil, it tended to attract a companion plant known as Gold-Fading Grass.
Gold-Fading Grass contained not a trace of spiritual energy. If it did not grow alongside Golden Thread Grass, no cultivator would spare such an ordinary weed a second glance. Yet once it appeared beside Golden Thread Grass, it became that herb’s natural nemesis.
Golden Thread Grass leaves were one of the medicinal ingredients required for a Foundation Establishment Pill, making them extremely important. But the formation of those golden-threaded leaves was suppressed by Gold-Fading Grass. No one quite knew why, but Golden Thread Grass seemed almost absurdly indulgent toward its companion, surrendering its spiritual energy and nutrients so the Gold-Fading Grass could flourish. As soon as Gold-Fading Grass emerged from the soil, the white threads that had begun turning gold would revert, and no new golden-threaded leaves could form.
For that reason, one of the most important tasks when cultivating Golden Thread Grass was to constantly inspect its roots for signs of Gold-Fading Grass. The moment a sprout appeared, it had to be picked out with a silver needle and discarded so the Golden Thread Grass could continue producing golden-threaded leaves.
Old He moved with practiced ease. In no time, he had plucked out more than a dozen strands of Gold-Fading Grass. Xu Ziqing watched, utterly absorbed, and even forgot why he had come there in the first place.
About an hour later, Old He finished his work and wiped the sweat from his brow. Only then did he notice someone crouched beside him. When he turned, there was the newly arrived menial worker.
Xu Ziqing came back to himself and hurriedly apologized. “Forgive me, Steward He. I became too absorbed in watching.” As he spoke, he offered over the bamboo tube. “This is some plain porridge this junior cooked. I hope Steward He won’t find it too humble.”
Old He accepted it, opened the lid, and took a drink. “You watched for so long. Did you understand anything?”
Xu Ziqing smiled. “This junior is ignorant. I only understood that Steward He was removing Gold-Fading Grass.”
A trace of satisfaction passed through Old He’s eyes. “It seems you really did read those books carefully.”
Xu Ziqing said, “Steward is thinking of this junior’s welfare, so naturally I must take the matter seriously. Besides, the knowledge recorded in those books is vast. I have benefited greatly from them.”
Old He drained the rest of the porridge in one gulp and nodded. “Stay with me until noon today.”
Xu Ziqing was delighted. This was the first time Old He had ever asked him to follow along of his own accord. Did that mean he intended to teach him personally? Calming himself, Xu Ziqing answered evenly, “Yes, Steward He.”
Naturally, there was an enormous difference between having a teacher and trying to figure everything out alone. Old He was deeply knowledgeable and knew the various spiritual herbs as intimately as his own possessions. Even though Xu Ziqing had memorized the traits of many herbs himself, there were still moments when he could not immediately understand why Old He handled them in a particular way. That was the difference experience made.
Old He no longer worked in silence while leaving Xu Ziqing to observe on his own. Instead, he explained the important points as he went. One taught and the other learned, and the time passed quickly.
As Old He was mounding soil around a Dragon Claw Flower, he suddenly frowned and stopped moving.
Xu Ziqing paused. “Steward He?”
Old He said, “A few people carrying tokens have come. Go receive them.”
Xu Ziqing naturally agreed.
Then Old He added, “No need to be overly courteous. Just bring them to me.”
Xu Ziqing did not quite understand, but he followed Old He’s instructions and headed outside. The moment he reached the medicinal garden’s entrance, however, he understood.
Several men and women of uncommon bearing were standing on the dirt path leading into the garden.
The most striking among them was a woman dressed in purple. Her hair was swept high into a cloud-shaped coiffure, her figure tall and slender, and her entire bearing carried a restrained arrogance. From a distance, Xu Ziqing could not make out her face clearly, but judging by her silhouette alone, she was probably very beautiful.
As he drew closer, Xu Ziqing saw three other men beside her. One was dressed just as richly, with an arrogance around his brows similar to the woman’s, though his expression turned warm whenever he spoke to her. His status was probably comparable to hers. The other two wore similar yellow robes and followed behind them, their expressions plainly ingratiating.
When they saw Xu Ziqing approaching, one of the yellow-robed men barked, “You menial worker! The Young Lady has come here, yet you still dare to dawdle like this?”
The other yellow-robed man joined in. “Such disrespect deserves a proper punishment!”
The first rebuke had sounded unpleasant, but Xu Ziqing could still admit that perhaps he had not received them as promptly as he should have. At the second man’s words, however, he could not help frowning. He had only just arrived at the main family and had not learned any cultivation art, so he could not move especially quickly. Even so, he had hurried over as fast as he could. How did that already warrant punishment? Their attitude was far too overbearing.
Before Xu Ziqing could reply, the arrogant man spoke first. “Sister Zitang, I obtained a lower-grade magical artifact a few days ago. It looks rather nice, so why don’t I give it to you to play with?” As he spoke, he reached into his sleeve and drew out a long purple whip. It had nine sections, each about one chi long, with nine purple jewels embedded along its length. Light flowed over the whip’s surface, making it obvious at a glance that it was no ordinary object.
The woman called Zitang showed a flicker of interest. With her discernment, she could naturally tell that the whip was exceptional. She accepted it and said, “Young Master Tian, if I’m not mistaken, this whip has already reached the peak of the lower grade. It’s only a hair away from a middle-grade magical artifact, isn’t it?”
Young Master Tian smiled. “As long as you like it, Sister Zitang, never mind something at the peak of the lower grade. Even if it truly were a middle-grade magical artifact, I’d still gladly give it to you.”
Xu Zitang smiled faintly, clearly fond of the nine-section whip as she turned it over in her hands. “What is it called?”
Young Master Tian replied, “This whip is called Purple Splendor. It suits you perfectly.” He smiled again. “And since this menial worker has offended you, why not test the whip on him? Consider it a small punishment and a warning.”
As soon as he finished speaking, every pair of eyes turned toward Xu Ziqing.