After Zhen Chanzi had led him onto the Immortal Path, Wang Qi had always held a deep doubt about one question—could something like Spirit Stones really serve as currency?
Within a given period, the amount of currency needed in circulation was directly proportional to the total price of goods and inversely proportional to the speed of monetary circulation. Too much or too little currency would both throw the economy into chaos.
And Spirit Stones were clearly difficult to control in quantity, weren't they?
The spiritual energy contained within a Spirit Stone varied wildly. Without the customary prices agreed upon by those of the Immortal Dao, trade would be difficult to conduct—this only improved somewhat after the invention of "spirit pools."
If the number of Spirit Stones on the market increased, their value would naturally fall. It was entirely possible for a cultivator to enter seclusion for ten years, only to emerge and discover that the excavation of another Spirit Stone vein had rendered years of savings worthless.
Conversely, if a Spirit Stone vein ran dry, Spirit Stone prices could rise, allowing schemers to hoard vast quantities of them and rake in wealth.
Either situation would deal a heavy blow to the market.
With compensation difficult to determine, alchemists would not readily refine pills for others, nor would Refining Masters readily forge artifacts for others. This would force everyone to learn more things themselves, leaving less time for cultivation. That, in turn, would form a vicious cycle.
In the end, large numbers of cultivators whose cultivation had stalled and who could no longer advance would cast aside all scruples and attack one another, forcibly turning the whole style from a "resource path" into a "man-eating path."
Over the eighty-thousand-year history of the Immortal Dao, there had been no fewer than five