Da Tang Si Zi: My Six Super Rich Little Nuggets!

Chapter 361 The Quest for Spiritual Roots

However, Old Du burst into laughter, his deep, booming laugh like an old mountain bell, making the ripples in the teacup on the table tremble: "Sure! Absolutely sure! As long as my eldest grandson is willing to come with this old man to the mountain gullies, pay respects to the old mountain god, and whatever the spirits of the plants and trees that grow here, absorbing the essence of heaven and earth, you can pick whichever patch you fancy!" With a casual flick of his withered fingers, he stirred up a small whirlwind that was both weak and incredibly tough.

Even the usually calm and collected father couldn't sit still anymore, his brows furrowing deeply: "Brother! You...you're spoiling the child way too much! These ginseng foals of ours are practically indistinguishable from wild mountain ginseng treasures! If this kid were to blindly pick that top-quality one in the garden, with its deep roots and overflowing spiritual energy, it would be worth at least five thousand high-grade spirit stones, and easily ten thousand! If he were to casually hand it over to some complete stranger, wouldn't that be a pure waste of nature's bounty?"

"Five thousand? Ten thousand?" This number hit Si Zi's heart like a sledgehammer.

These days her little ears have been busy. The spirit stones in this place are very precious, how can they be compared to the copper coins of the Tang Dynasty?

Her little face turned pale instantly, and she shook her head like a rattle: "No...no! I don't want something so precious..." Her mind flashed back to the wild ginseng that she had swallowed whole, which she had mistaken for an "ordinary herb."

If it were here, what kind of "treasured treasure" would it be? A chilling fear mixed with guilt crept up his spine. "...But..." In Si Zi's clear, bright eyes, there was a stubbornness only a young medicine boy possessed, "The quality...the quality has to be top-notch." He had to find a top-quality ginseng, not just for that matter, but also because something was hooked in his heart, something he wanted to make up for.

The adults knew exactly what was going on. The old woman's lips moved, as if she wanted to say a few more words.

Old Du suddenly lowered his voice, and the imposing aura he had cultivated over fifty-eight years of living in the old forest, a aura of absolute authority, suddenly rose up: "I, Old Du, gave my little granddaughter a ginseng root. Whether she uses it to feed beggars on the street or to offer as a clay offering to the local temple, it's all up to the little girl! Everyone else, keep your mouths shut!"

Si Zi finally exhaled quietly from her small chest and silently chanted Buddhist prayers. But when she thought of the ginseng she had "ruined," her heart felt like it had been pricked by a needle, a slight, throbbing pain.

This old Taoist priest, Du Laozao, has endured fifty-eight years of hardship in the Lin family's ginseng garden deep in the old mountains. What dangers haven't he faced? What loneliness hasn't he tasted? He has long since forged himself into the strongest backbone and the most powerful mountain god in this land!

In this old house, Old Master Du was like "God himself." No matter how fierce Old Mother was, when she got to Old Master Du, she was like Sun Wukong jumping into the Buddha's palm—no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't escape. Si Zi understood this perfectly, which is why she dared to muster up her courage and ask for the spiritual ginseng.

Sizi pretended to be cheerful, kicked her short legs, and jumped up with a "whoosh," then skipped off to wash up like a little rabbit.

Behind me, my parents' low, urgent complaints came clearly: "Dad, you spoil the child too much!" "Spoiling a child is like killing a child, Dad!"

"Who doesn't cherish their own flesh and blood?" Old Du's voice remained steady and calm, carrying a worldly wisdom. "In my opinion, this guy is definitely going to be of good use. I dare say with my hand on my chest that he wants to honor his master who taught him!" He spoke crisply and with absolute certainty.

Sizi, hiding behind the pillar, secretly curled her little mouth upwards, but her little fingers unconsciously touched her chest—the place where she used to keep wild ginseng treasures close to her body, now empty, with only an invisible and intangible "scar of time and space" remaining.

Immediately afterwards, the footsteps of Old Du and his father could be heard as they went out.

The old man was about to activate that rare "armored vehicle" ritual implement to send Old Master Du back to the foot of Ginseng Garden. For the past twenty-eight years, except for New Year's Eve when every household was lit up, Old Master Du had been guarding the ginseng garden almost every day, sleeping with the ginseng babies.

Deep within the ginseng garden, there were only two small, dilapidated huts built from rammed mountain mud. Inside, it was truly "unique"—a telepathic array for communication? None! A source of spiritual energy to control magical artifacts? Forget about it!

Du Laozhao lived like an old mountain hermit, guarding his mud house alone, only going down the mountain once every seven days to carry back enough spiritual rice and spring water for seven days of quiet cultivation in the mountains.

He endured a life almost like that of an ascetic for a full fifty-eight winters and summers, often jokingly referring to himself as a "mountain demon" or an "ancient monk who burrows into mountain caves."

The sky was still as dark as the bottom of a pot, and the morning star was twinkling on the horizon. Sizi had already set off with his parents.

The old man drove that "armored vehicle," which not only crammed the three of them inside, but also piled high with good ingredients for cooking spiritual food, plus a few "ginseng-carrying old hands" temporarily hired to help.

The armored vehicle sputtered and lurched out of the city, climbing along the winding mountain road for about half an hour before suddenly turning into a quieter side road where the spiritual energy gradually increased.

After another bumpy ride of about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the road ahead completely disappeared. Everyone had to get off the vehicle and, using both hands and feet, huffed and puffed their way through the jagged, strange rocks and tangled old vines for almost half an hour before finally reaching the Lin Family Ginseng Garden nestled in the embrace of the mountains.

Just then, a bright red sun was putting in all its effort, trying to peek over the shoulders of the distant mountains, and the first ray of golden light poured down with a "whoosh".

In the mountain valley, the thin mist formed by spiritual energy is like a flowing veil, pushed by the gentle hand of the morning breeze, swaying and drifting erratically.

The endless spiritual rain a while ago woke up the whole mountain, and all the plant spirits were like they were on steroids, pushing themselves upwards and sprouting outwards with all their might.

Wild lilies, fiery red; bellflowers, translucent white; irises, deep blue, glistening with dewdrops, swayed their little heads in the morning breeze. But how could the charming appearance of these common flowers and grasses overshadow even a fraction of the splendor of the "most exquisite beauty of the old mountains"—ginseng seeds!

Right now, the ginseng seedlings in the forest are really sparse. The ginseng seedlings are scattered among the wildly growing weeds and bushes. You have to slow down and widen your eyes to catch a glimpse of their faint glimmer.

"A pound of ginseng seeds can yield about ten thousand seeds. If you scatter them, they will almost all sprout. But for ginseng to cultivate its full spiritual essence, it has to endure eighty-one tribulations! Insects gnaw at it, wild animals chew on it, the turbid air underground rots its roots, and the cold snap in early spring freezes the seedlings. Even a silly roe deer or a reckless young deer can damage its spiritual essence by stepping on it, causing it to retreat underground like a cat for several years and dare not show its face."

Even more bizarrely, they silently and completely dissolve in the soil... If you manage to unearth two or three hundred ginseng plants whole after enduring twenty or thirty years of hardship, it would be a stroke of incredible luck, like the mountain god opening his eyes.

"Old Master Du's rambling, which carried the earthy smell of the old forest, started buzzing in Sizi's little head again."

Si Zi couldn't suppress her innate affinity for the spiritual herbs and immortal roots. This affinity seemed to deepen even more because of the ginseng treasure that had torn through time and space. With a quick movement, she was the first to sneak into the ginseng garden, which was filled with spiritual energy.

Old Du's stove was already standing in front of the mud house's broken wooden door, which had been eroded beyond recognition by wind and rain.

With the characteristic arrogant smile of a mountain forest owner on his face, he greeted each of the hired old hands with clasped hands, calling out their nicknames or real names with practiced ease: "Old Hawk!" "Iron Pillar!" "Silly Boy!"

...Clearly, Du Laozhao had a very close relationship with these rough men who dealt with clods of earth and spiritual roots all year round.

The muscular man inside, with sharp, eagle-like eyes, was called "Old Hawk," and was Du Laozao's old partner, whose pants were so thick that even wearing the same pair of pants would be too much for him.

But when Du Laozhao was addressing someone, his cheerful greeting suddenly stopped abruptly.

The man looked to be about the same age as my father, tall and thin, with a fair complexion that didn't look like someone who toiled in the mountains. He wore faded indigo coarse cloth trousers and a stiff, black long-sleeved cloth shirt over them. He exuded a cleanliness, more like a city accountant who worked with abacus beads and was untouched by the smell of dirt.

When Sizi glanced over, her heart skipped a beat, and a strange, inexplicable feeling welled up inside her—not hostility, but rather a strange, pleasing feeling, like... like seeing her own withered little hoe suddenly come to life?

"This fellow looks unfamiliar, doesn't he?" Du Laozao's voice slowed down, and a glint flashed in his eyes, which had seen through countless mysteries in the old forest, as he made no attempt to conceal his assessment. "You're not a native of our Laoling Mountain City, are you?"

The fair-skinned young man bowed slightly, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant: "To answer your question, my ancestors were from Miaoshan Township. We moved to the city to find food, and it's only been a little over a year. You can just call me 'Shengzi'."

"Shengzi?" Old Du's lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes scanning Shengzi's neat clothes and his hands, which had well-defined knuckles but few calluses, like searchlights.

"Judging from your attire, you look like a leisurely visitor strolling around the mountains, not someone with rough hands who could take care of this precious spiritual seedling!"

"Your name is 'Shengzi' (meaning 'giving birth'), but I hope your work doesn't turn you into a 'raw egg' (meaning 'unskilled')." His words carried the straightforward teasing of a mountain dweller, but also contained a hint of probing.

Old Master Du offered an incredibly generous price for hiring someone to open the ginseng: a lunch infused with spiritual energy, plus three hundred low-grade spirit stones as a day's wages. In this area, that's an extremely rare and highly sought-after job.

But he only hired experienced ginseng growers who were skilled and precise. "A truly good grower can steadily grow five spirit ginseng roots a day, with every root and tail intact. Even the tiny 'pearl dots' of spiritual energy on the ginseng body, smaller than a pinhead, will not be harmed in the slightest."

If you encounter that clumsy, incompetent fool, who takes their time like embroidery when starting a ginseng plant, they'd be lucky to get even two plants a day, and might even cause a huge mess! As for what kind of mess she might cause, Sizi hadn't inquired about it in detail. She came here specifically to personally select a suitable forest ginseng plant to prepare for her transmigration, and wasn't particularly interested in these trivial matters.

Faced with Du Laozao's questioning, Shengzi's expression remained calm and composed. But beneath his lowered eyelids, a faint, almost imperceptible glint of light flashed across his fingertips, so fast it was as if he were seeing things.

Shengzi raised his eyelids, his gaze meeting Du Laozao's scrutinizing eyes with a shrewd and open expression. His words were steady and firm, carrying an undeniable air of authority:

"Boss, you can rest assured. We'll put you to the test once we get to work. The real test will show!"