Chapter Eighteen: Azure Immortal Spirit Tea
Drinking tea can boost one’s cultivation. If one enjoys several cups a day, isn’t that extra cultivation gained? Even if the increase is small, accumulated over months and years, it amounts to a considerable improvement. This was why He Song had asked.
“This tea is rare. Even the stewards seldom get a taste, reserved only for honored guests in this hall. Today, thanks to you, Daoist friend, I am able to enjoy a cup,” Bing’er replied, her gaze lingering on He Song, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Had the tea not been so precious, and had He Song not offered her a cup, she wouldn’t have so easily believed he hadn’t meant any offense. Now, seeing He Song’s inquiry, she was eager to answer fully.
After a short pause, Bing’er continued, “This tea is called Emerald Immortal Spirit Tea, picked from spirit tea trees grown in the Spirit Herb Garden of the Thick Earth Sect. In the Immortal Market, it sells for ten spirit stones per tael…”
“…Thank you, Daoist friend. I’ll take my leave now,” He Song said, having accomplished his purpose. He no longer wished to linger.
With a slight bow to Bing’er, He Song turned and departed from the Spirit Technique Pavilion.
What was that? Emerald Immortal Spirit Tea? He’d never heard of it. Didn’t recognize it. Had never seen it. Couldn’t afford it!
A faint sense of longing tugged at him. He Song’s steps quickened, as if chased by a monster.
He needed to return home swiftly.
Then, he would begin to comprehend the introductory chapter on array arts from his memory, rather than linger here listening to Bing’er’s soft laughter.
He Song’s figure receded rapidly.
In his wake, Bing’er covered her face, laughing so hard she shook like a flower in the breeze.
She wasn’t mocking He Song’s ambition; she simply found him intriguing.
Everyone cultivating immortality understands the value of spirit tea that can increase cultivation. Yet He Song, without a second thought, asked about it. Upon learning the price, he turned and left without a hint of reluctance.
Moreover, after five years in the Immortal Market, He Song had managed to reach the third level of Qi Refining and save up a hundred spirit stones. He spent another hundred on the introductory chapters of the Hundred Arts of Cultivation. And when he casually handed her a cup of spirit tea, his manner was remarkably unrestrained.
Bing’er began to see He Song in a new light.
“If we meet again, I must befriend him,” she murmured, before leaving the honored guest hall to continue welcoming other cultivators.
Today, He Song had left in haste.
She had hoped to make his acquaintance, but duty kept her from pursuing him; she could only wait for another opportunity.
Back home, He Song sat cross-legged, and memories of the introductory chapter on array arts flooded his mind.
What are array arts?
On the grand scale, one could use the heavens and earth as the array, wielding unimaginable power that could reduce all to dust.
On a smaller scale, one could form arrays with spirit stones, channeling the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to affect the prosperity of a region.
But these were matters for the future.
Having just begun his study, He Song needed to grasp the basics.
How to carve array patterns onto spirit stones.
How to employ special techniques to lay out arrays.
How to observe the flow of spiritual energy between heaven and earth.
How to properly set up an array.
These were the things He Song needed to understand now.
Fortunately, the introductory chapter was detailed.
He Song’s gaze swept over the text, and threads of insight soon emerged in his mind.
He produced a spirit stone and, guided by his memory, began to practice as best he could.
…
Thus, a day and night passed in a blink.
The next morning, He Song emerged from his room, deep in thought, and headed to the spiritual fields he managed to cast the Spirit Rain Technique.
After half an hour, he paused, changed direction, and walked toward the Spirit Building Pavilion.
Today was the appointed day for his monthly meeting with Wei Fan and Meng Guan.
On the first day of each month, the three would gather in the Spirit Building Pavilion, drink tea, chat, and discuss matters within their little circle.
Most of the news He Song learned came from here.
As he walked, He Song continued to study array arts in his mind.
After a day and night of study, He Song had developed some understanding of array arts, though whether his insights were correct would require time to verify.
He proceeded onward.
Soon, He Song arrived at the Spirit Building Pavilion.
He climbed to the second floor.
At a table, an elderly man and a young man were already seated on meditation cushions.
“He Song, you’re late today. Did you spend the night at Phoenix Perch Pavilion?” Meng Guan, the elder, teased, seeing He Song lost in thought.
Phoenix Perch Pavilion was a brothel run by the Pure Yin Sect, a Gold Core sect. The female cultivators there were all stunning beauties, some practiced dual cultivation techniques, and after cultivating with them, one could even increase their own cultivation.
It was one of the few places in Bamboo Mountain Immortal Market that could empty a cultivator’s pockets.
“With your wealth, He Song, you’d surely choose a top courtesan who could boost your cultivation, right? Congratulations on your progress, truly worth celebrating,” Wei Fan, the young man, said, his eyes gleaming with spiritual light before he shook his head and laughed.
Though they knew He Song wouldn’t squander his spirit stones in such places, the three were close friends, and such jests were harmless.
Wei Fan had just used the Spiritual Eye Technique and discovered He Song had broken through to the third level of Qi Refining, prompting his teasing.
He Song’s advancement from the second to the third level could not be hidden from his friends, though he had no intention of hiding it.
Listening to their banter, He Song didn’t rush to respond. He took his seat, then suddenly sighed deeply.
“Ah…”
The sound echoed.
For a moment, the room was silent, as if one could hear a pin drop.
The two friends, about to speak, froze.
They exchanged glances, each seeing confusion in the other’s eyes.
In the five years they’d known He Song, he had never sat down, silent, and let out such a deep sigh.
Never, not once!
What had happened today to make He Song so uncharacteristically despondent?
Wei Fan signaled Meng Guan to ask.
Meng Guan stroked his beard, accidentally pulling out a few hairs, wincing in pain.
But with Wei Fan’s persistent prompting, Meng Guan finally spoke.
“He Song, has something happened?” he asked gently, placing a cup of tea beside He Song, as though afraid to startle his friend, now a cultivator at the third level of Qi Refining.
Seeing this, Wei Fan rubbed his forehead, speechless.
Though he thought Meng Guan was being overly cautious, Wei Fan kept his gaze fixed on He Song.
If his young friend had been bullied, as a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator, he would have to step in and restore He Song’s dignity.
After all these years of friendship, he was ready to stand up for He Song.