Spiritual Qi in the Jar Spirit Root

Li Mo woke up more than an hour later than usual.

Perhaps because the torrent of memories crammed into his brain in such a short time was too chaotic, even after regaining clarity, he still felt a splitting headache like a hangover.

He rested with his eyes closed for a long while before beginning his routine stretches.

Only when the sun was high in the sky did Li Mo stop, drenched in sweat, and use these few hours to sort out his next plans.

Li Mo changed his clothes and tucked the Spirit Tablet prominently at his waist.

He hurried out of the Side Room, heading straight for the Medical Hall where the inherited techniques were kept, brushing past the listless Painting Studio apprentices.

The apprentices noticed Li Mo and couldn't help casting surprised glances.

They watched helplessly as Li Mo left the bounds of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall, his figure gradually swallowed by the noisy courtyard under the glaring sunlight.

The apprentices sat stunned for a moment, then resumed grinding ink and painting, the thick scent of ink spreading through the room.

From the moment Li Mo stepped out of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall, their statuses were as different as clouds and mud.

Becoming a full Painter from an apprentice usually happened only once every six months in the hall, and required at least five years of painting practice.

Most people would end up buried under the thick layers of paper beneath their feet.

Li Mo didn't rush to leave the Pawnshop. He made a point to visit Li Qingfang and her brother, and felt relieved to see them reading.

The school was quite large, with over a hundred children reciting poetry.

"Guan guan cry the ospreys, on the islet in the river..."

The teacher was severely decayed, with only one intact arm, making his vitality seem even dimmer compared to the lively children.

Li Qingfang was drowsy, and in a daze she spotted a familiar figure at the window.

She couldn't help widening her eyes, but the figure had already vanished, and her head was tapped by the teacher's ruler.

Li Mo was now walking out of the Pawnshop.

Along the way, he experienced the benefits of being a Painter—servants bowed and greeted him one after another.

Li Mo thought about checking on Zhao Zhu, but suddenly realized that if the Calligraphy and Painting Hall had a cultivator stationed there, the Miscellaneous Hall surely did too.

After all, he was still a commoner, so it was better to be cautious.

Taking advantage of the broad daylight, Li Mo followed the route in his memory toward the Medical Hall.

Compared to when he first arrived in Smelting Town, Li Mo's understanding had completely changed. Seeing some figures with deformed bodies, he understood that they all mastered various Spells.

Cultivators hurried out of Smelting Town or trudged back into the city, exhausted.

Li Mo suddenly realized that Smelting Town was far from as peaceful as it seemed on the surface—the Immortal Cultivation World was filled with unimaginable dangers.

But with his strength, he couldn't influence the situation. If he ever truly encountered danger, Death on the Dao would be his fate.

Li Mo's expression turned grim, and he quickened his pace.

The Medical Hall soon came into view.

Li Mo circled it several times and found that it covered twice the area of the Pawnshop, with all side entrances heavily guarded.

Located in the center of the outer city, the Medical Hall's importance was self-evident.

Without hesitation, Li Mo walked through the open main gate. Behind the Green Mountain Bamboo Screen stood rows of wooden cabinets typical of a medical hall.

A dozen or so attendants were busy, mostly drying medicinal herbs or receiving townsfolk who came for treatment.

The illnesses were basically body rot caused by the Death Sickness. If left untreated, within a hundred years, the afflicted would turn into a Living Dead.

No wonder some townsfolk, despite their severe Death Sickness, still managed to work without issue.

"Young master, here for a consultation?"

An observant attendant noticed Li Mo and quickly approached.

Though Li Mo was young, his clothes belonged to the Pawnshop. Since he could freely enter and leave, his status must be considerable.

The attendant became eager to please—after all, Li Mo looked at most ten or eleven, and might have a relative working at the Pawnshop.

He had no idea that Li Mo wasn't born in Smelting Town at all. Just over two months ago, he was still in Niu Family Village doing carpentry with his father and brother.

"I'm looking for Han Cai, Doctor Han."

Hearing Han Cai's name, the attendant couldn't help trembling, his expression full of fear, but he reluctantly agreed with a grimace.

"I'll lead the way."

Li Mo felt a bit puzzled and couldn't help asking the attendant, "Is Doctor Han bad-tempered?"

"Temper... not sure."

The attendant's words were vague. He only said that Han Cai had the most seniority in the Medical Hall, but none of them dared to approach him.

As the two went deeper into the Medical Hall, shrill screams rang out incessantly, accompanied by a thick medicinal aroma that assaulted the nose.

Even the halls of hell probably couldn't compare.

Li Mo glanced around and caught sight of a Consultation Room half-hidden by a curtain, with bits of red-black flesh still stuck to the floor.

He looked down, and goosebumps rose all over his body.

A limb reattachment surgery was underway inside the Consultation Room.

He wasn't surprised by the amputation surgery—after all, in the ancient history of his past life, records of surgical procedures existed very early on. They were merely limited by poor sanitary conditions, resulting in extremely high mortality rates.

Now, with the existence of Eternal Life, the body's tolerance for pain had greatly increased, and there was no need to worry about bacterial infection.

It was only natural that simple surgical techniques could develop.

But wasn't the doctor's method a bit too rough?

The flesh and blood tissue of the severed limb was exposed to the air, yet the doctor was forcibly stitching it together with a Silver Thread. Where flesh was missing, he filled the gap with a gelatinous medicinal paste.

Anesthesia? Nonexistent.

"Hm?"

The doctor seemed to notice Li Mo. The latter immediately withdrew his gaze, hurriedly following the increasingly fast-paced attendant, and fled the Consultation Room in disgrace.

Li Mo secretly congratulated himself on being assigned to the Pawnshop rather than the Medical Hall.

He couldn't bring himself to treat living people like dead objects the way Han Cai did. Even though Eternal Life existed, killing someone was harder than keeping them alive.

Li Mo passed through the inner hall and came upon a courtyard filled with bamboo groves. A trickling stream formed a brook from the mountaintop, converging into a pond.

The surface of the pond was covered with bluish-green algae, and no trace of fish could be seen.

Several three-story Tile Houses stood within the courtyard.

They headed toward the central Tile House. Its walls were covered in mold, with blood-red creepers filling the cracks, and the Insect Chirping carried a hint of chill.

A plaque hung above, engraved with the words: "Miraculous Hands Medical Hall."

The attendant pushed open the creaking door. The dim interior was empty, and the furniture inside was more than twice the normal size.

He swallowed his saliva, mustered his courage, and called out, "Doctor Han, someone is here to see you."

"Doctor Han..."

"I know. Hahahaha."

After the attendant spoke, hearing a deep male voice from the second floor, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then, ignoring Li Mo, he turned and left.

Li Mo examined the room's decor in the sunlight, his eyes filled with unspeakable shock.

Dozens of Glass Jars hung from the ceiling, filled with strange liquids of various colors, soaking shrunken and deformed internal organs.

Most crucially, according to the information surging from the Book of Fortune, what was inside the jars were...

[Spiritual Qi] and [Spiritual Roots].