The farther they traveled into the Taihang Mountains, the stranger and more alien the scenery around them became.
The ordinary pines and cypresses had grown so enormous that several people would have to join hands to encircle their trunks. Their crowns blotted out the sky, breaking the midday sunlight into mottled fragments.
The thorny vines in the undergrowth were as thick as a child's arm, their dark red spikes gleaming with a metallic chill, like rows of fangs ready to devour anyone who came near.
Chen Ping held the reins in one hand and gripped the Hundred-Refined Steel Saber in the other, placing each step with the utmost care.
Yun Niang sat on the carriage shaft, wrapped in a thick cotton coat. Her face was still pale, but her eyes stayed fixed on Chen Ping's back, and she dared not make a sound.
"The spiritual energy here is several times denser than outside."
Chen Ping was secretly astonished.
As they reached a shaded hollow in the mountain, Chen Ping stopped.
In a pile of rotting leaves beside the path, a bright red lingzhi with a cap as large as a washbasin grew casually among the weeds.
Back in Qinghe County, a century-old fire lingzhi of this quality would have had the owner of Huichun Hall fighting tooth and nail for it. It could easily fetch a thousand taels of silver. But here, it was no more than a wild plant that no one cared about.
Chen Ping's throat bobbed. He didn't approach right away, but picked up a stone and tossed it over to test the area.
"Thwack."
The stone hit the ground. Nothing happened.
Only then did Chen Ping relax. He was just about to step forward and pick the lingzhi when the keen instincts granted by the Longevity