Chapter 28 – Equals at Last, a Road Made Clear

Songlin Village had always been like this.

Many villagers practiced cultivation, yet none knew what they were cultivating; they merely copied the motions, hoping for a longer life.

The Cultivation Technique the Old Daoist Priest studied had the same flaw—without a Master’s guidance, Li Qiuchen doubted the old man could even decipher the cryptic terms in the manual.

They knew the ‘how’ but never the ‘why’.

Unable to understand it himself, he still dreamed of enlightening the villagers.

Apart from using the Soul Tethering Technique to turn them into Puppets and trick them into following his practice, he could do nothing.

He even believed that bowing to a tree root would make it sprout…

In truth, Li Qiuchen had seen plenty of such people in the history books of his past life.

They harbored naïve fantasies about Immortals.

Swallow a Medicinal Pill—boom, Ascension!

Marry a fairy—boom, Ascension!

There was no helping it; their knowledge was limited.

You couldn’t expect illiterate villagers to grasp the Great Dao of longevity; at most they’d understand living a couple extra years.

Listening to Li Qiuchen’s mocking tone—three parts ridicule, three parts chill, four parts indifference—the Old Daoist Priest flushed scarlet, yet still refused to rise.

At his age, face counted for little; if an Immortal would point the way, any price was worth paying.

‘Please accept me as your Disciple! If I may tread the path of longevity, this Disciple swears to repay your kindness; should I lie, let heaven strike me with five thunderbolts!’

Li Qiuchen said irritably, ‘Senior, this is pointless. I’m still cultivating myself—how can I take a Disciple? But if you don’t mind… we can sit and discuss it. Force me again and I’ll leave.’

The Old Daoist Priest scrambled up with an apologetic smile. ‘This poor Daoist sincerely seeks instruction; forgive my rudeness, Junior Brother. My meager skills are unworthy of you, but I beg your guidance.’

‘Guidance is too strong. First, plant that root.’

Li Qiuchen said calmly, ‘Do as I say and I guarantee it will sprout. When the day comes, you can face Immortal Master Mohe. If the Dharma-husk in his hand truly is marvelous… perhaps even my Master will take interest. Understand, Senior?’

‘Understood!’

The Old Daoist Priest nodded vigorously.

Of course he understood—joining even a Liǔzi required a token of loyalty.

He knew how meager his assets were; to enter an Immortal sect he had to offer something worthwhile.

As for doubts—what doubts? The Spiritual tea delivered by the crane couldn’t be faked.

What benefit had Immortal Master Mohe ever given him?

No contest—even a fool knew which side to choose!

‘Everything shall be as Junior Brother says. Where do we begin?’

Li Qiuchen smiled. ‘Stop making the villagers Cultivate; the method’s wrong, it’s wasted effort. Send them back to farming, then fetch paper and brush—I’ll draw a Formation diagram. Set it up in the village and I’ll tell you the next step.’

He knew no Formations, but he had seen the old peach tree’s layout in Songlin Village.

Following the Heavenly Gang number, thirty-six trees were planted with their roots linked.

In plain terms, thirty-six external power banks charging together.

Then plug the data cable into the phone… connect the roots to the old peach tree.

Never mind if it worked; it looked impressive enough.

In haste the Old Daoist Priest couldn’t find thirty-six century-old trees for the array eyes.

That didn’t matter.

Any species would do.

With his two free laborers he spent three days hauling thirty-six varied saplings down the mountain, planting them at specified spots per Li Qiuchen’s diagram.

As the saying goes: transplant a tree and it dies; move a man and he thrives.

Ordinarily no tree would survive such abuse.

But Li Qiuchen had a cheat.

He tapped a trunk with his bamboo pole and severed roots instantly shot forth, anchoring in the soil.

He then had the Old Daoist Priest dig trenches between the trees, watering and fertilizing daily to speed root fusion.

Finally he dug a pit at the base of the village’s central tree and ordered the old peach root buried there.

In scientific terms: grafting.

The Old Daoist Priest gaped.

Would it work?

How should I know?

I’m here as a spy, not to enroll you in any sect.

Li Qiuchen tapped the trunk again, secretly channeling life energy to fuse the peach root to the persimmon tree.

More energy would surely make the old root sprout.

But there was no need.

‘Water, fertilize, weed, and de-bug every day—never slack.’

Li Qiuchen instructed without expression, ‘Once my Greenwood Formation is complete it will draw the land’s vitality to the center. That vitality comes from villagers and their crops; when the roots spread, they’ll become part of the array. Keep a low profile, Senior—no outsider must notice anything unusual.’

On the construction method of pigpens…

The inner workings might be dubious, but for outward show Li Qiuchen knew no one was more professional.

The array was a one-to-one copy of Songlin Village’s layout.

The Li family’s Pupil Technique excelled at copy-paste precision.

The Old Daoist Priest followed with paper and brush, recording every word and gesture. Seeing Li Qiuchen head for the village gate he called, ‘Where are you going, Junior Brother?’

Without looking back Li Qiuchen waved. ‘Wait here in peace. I’ll fetch something from the mountain and return on the appointed day to accompany you to Immortal Master Mohe.’

Unable to detain him, the Old Daoist Priest watched forlornly.

A good man! My own Master never treated me so well; if I could join such a sect, perhaps true longevity could be found.

Li Qiuchen neither sought the village Elder nor pried information from the Song brothers.

He was patient.

Until he understood the Puppet-control art described in the Yellow Locust Chapter, he would attempt nothing superfluous.

The Old Daoist Priest seemed easy to fool, but who says the honest have no wiles?

Every blade of grass in this village might be his eyes and ears.

Caution never hurts.