Li Mo woke more than two hours later than usual.
Perhaps because the memories his mind had absorbed in such a short time were too chaotic, even after regaining clarity, his head still throbbed and swelled as if from a hangover.
He rested with his eyes closed for a long while before beginning his usual stretches.
It was not until late morning that Li Mo stopped, drenched in sweat. Over those few hours, he had sorted out his plans for what came next.
Li Mo changed into a fresh set of clothes and pinned the Spirit Tablet somewhere conspicuous at his waist.
He quickly left the side room, heading straight for the Medical Hall that passed down Cultivation Methods, brushing past Painting Studio apprentices who moved like walking corpses.
The painter apprentices noticed Li Mo and could not help casting him astonished looks.
They watched as Li Mo left the bounds of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall. Beneath the glaring sunlight, his figure gradually disappeared into the bustling courtyard.
The painter apprentices all sat there in a daze, as though struck dumb by mutual agreement, before resuming their ink grinding and painting. A rich scent of ink spread through the room.
From the moment Li Mo stepped out of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall, his status had become as far apart as clouds and mud.
Usually, the Calligraphy and Painting Hall produced only one apprentice who became a formal painter every half year, and that apprentice had to have practiced painting for at least five years.
Most people would be buried beneath the thick stacks of xuan paper underfoot.
Li Mo did not hurry to leave the Pawnshop. He deliberately went to visit Li Qingfang and her younger brother, and seeing them studying put his mind at ease.
The school was quite large, with over a hundred children reciting poetry within.
"Guan guan cry the ospreys, upon the islet in the river..."
The schoolmaster was severely decayed, with only one intact arm remaining. Compared to the vigorous children, he appeared all the more dim and lifeless.
Li Qingfang was nodding off when, in her haze, she spotted a familiar figure by the window.
Her eyes widened involuntarily, but the figure had already vanished. Then the schoolmaster's ruler struck her on the head.
Li Mo was leaving the Pawnshop at that moment.
Along the way, he had come to appreciate the benefits of a painter's status. The servants all bowed and greeted him.
Li Mo had wanted to check on Zhao Zhu again, but then he suddenly realized that since the Calligraphy and Painting Hall had cultivators stationed there, the Miscellaneous Hall surely did as well.
He was still nothing more than a commoner. It was better to be careful.
While the sky was bright, Li Mo followed the route from his memories toward the Medical Hall.
Compared to when he had first arrived in Smelting Town, Li Mo's understanding was completely different. When he saw figures with grotesquely malformed bodies, he understood that they had mastered all manner of Spells.
Cultivators hurried toward the outskirts of Smelting Town, or returned to the city exhausted.
Li Mo immediately understood that Smelting Town was likely far less peaceful than it seemed. The Immortal Cultivation World was filled with dangers beyond imagination.
His strength was simply insufficient to influence the situation. If he truly encountered danger, what awaited him would surely be Death on the Dao.
Li Mo's expression turned grave, and he quickened his pace.
The Medical Hall soon came into view.
Li Mo circled the Medical Hall several times and discovered that it occupied twice as much land as the Pawnshop. Its side entrances were also heavily guarded.
The Medical Hall stood at the center of the Outer City. Its importance needed no explanation.
Without hesitation, Li Mo entered the Medical Hall through its open gates. Beyond the Green Mountain Bamboo Screen stood rows upon rows of wooden cabinets commonly found in medical halls.
More than a dozen attendants busied themselves with drying medicinal herbs and receiving townsfolk who came to the Medical Hall for treatment.
Most of the ailments were bodily decay brought about by Death Sickness. If left untreated, one would become a Living Dead within less than a hundred years.
No wonder some townsfolk could still work even when their Death Sickness had become extremely severe.
"Little brother, are you here for a consultation?"
An attendant with sharp eyes noticed Li Mo and hurried over.
Although Li Mo was still young, he wore clothing belonging to the Pawnshop. Since he could enter and leave the Pawnshop freely, his status must not have been low.
The attendant became even more attentive. Li Mo was at most a little over ten years old; perhaps some elder relative of his held a position at the Pawnshop.
Little did he know that Li Mo had not been born in Smelting Town at all. Just over two months ago, he had still been doing carpentry work alongside his father and brothers in Niu Family Village.
"I'm looking for Han Cai. Doctor Han."
At the mention of Han Cai's name, the attendant could not help shuddering. His expression was full of fear, but he still agreed with a miserable face.
"Then I'll lead the way."
Li Mo found it rather strange and could not help asking, "Does Doctor Han have a bad temper?"
"His temper... I'm not sure."
The attendant's words were vague. He only said that Han Cai had the greatest seniority in the Medical Hall, but none of them dared approach him.
Once the two ventured deeper into the Medical Hall, shrill screams rang out without end, accompanied by an intense medicinal fragrance that assaulted the nose.
Even the hell of King Yama was probably no worse than this.
Li Mo swept his gaze around from the corner of his eye. He happened to see Consultation Rooms half-covered by cloth curtains, with bits of red-black flesh scattered across the floor.
His gaze dropped over them, and goosebumps rose all over his body.
A Limb Reattachment operation was underway inside a Consultation Room.
He was not particularly surprised by surgery on Severed Limbs. Records of surgical procedures had appeared very early in the ancient history of his previous life, though their mortality rates were extremely high due to poor sanitary conditions.
Now that Eternal Life existed, bodies could endure pain far better, and there was no need to worry about bacterial infections.
It was perfectly normal for rudimentary surgery to develop.
But weren't the doctors' methods a little too brutal?
The flesh and blood of the Severed Limb lay exposed to the air, yet the doctor forcibly stitched it together with a Silver Thread. If any flesh was missing, he took out a gelatinous medicinal paste to fill the gaps.
Anesthesia? It did not exist.
"Hm?"
The doctor seemed to have noticed Li Mo. Li Mo immediately withdrew his gaze and followed closely behind the attendant, whose pace kept quickening, fleeing the Consultation Room in a bedraggled rush.
Li Mo secretly rejoiced that he had been assigned to the Pawnshop rather than the Medical Hall.
He could not treat living people like dead objects the way Han Cai did. Though Eternal Life existed, killing someone was harder than keeping them alive.
Li Mo passed through the inner hall. Before him lay a courtyard filled with Bamboo Forest, where a thin stream flowed down from the mountain peak, forming a brook that gathered into a pond.
Blue-green algae floated on the pond's surface, and there was no sign of fish.
Several three-story Tile Houses stood within the courtyard.
They headed toward the Tile House at the center. Its walls were covered in mold, while blood-red ivy blanketed the cracks. The insect chirping carried a thread of chill.
The plaque bore the words "Miraculous Hands Medical Hall."
The attendant pushed open the creaking door. The dim interior was empty, and every piece of furniture within was more than twice the normal size.
He swallowed, gathered his courage, and called out, "Doctor Han, someone has come to see you."
"Doctor Han..."
"I know, hahahahaha."
After the attendant spoke, a deep male voice came from the second floor. He let out a breath of relief, then ignored Li Mo and turned to leave.
By the sunlight, Li Mo examined the decorations inside, and the shock in his eyes was beyond words.
Dozens of Glass Jars hung from the ceiling, filled with strangely colored liquids in which shriveled, malformed internal organs soaked.
Most crucially, according to the information pouring forth from the Book of Fortune, the contents of the jars were—
Spiritual Qi and Spiritual Roots.
Before you continue