Chapter Sixty-Five: Striking It Rich

After venting his frustration at the system's stinginess, Li Yunfei suddenly realized that this profiteering system had always only accepted items that were both valuable and in demand.

Equipment was easy to understand. Now that Blue Earth Star was experiencing the resurgence of spiritual energy and the rise of cultivation, it was only natural that all sorts of special weapons and gear would have their own market.

But now, it seemed even the meat of demon beasts had become a sought-after commodity, which meant such things were already appearing on the market.

As for spirit stones, this currency must have just recently begun circulating.

This was most likely connected to the founding of the Academy for Cultivators. He had no idea what had happened in the outside world during the days he’d spent wandering the forest.

It seemed he needed to leave soon. This was a time of great transformation, a turning point in world history—he couldn’t afford to fall behind.

And now that this forest no longer held any opportunities for him to level up, he decided to spend one more night here and head out in the morning.

Having made up his mind, Li Yunfei tried offering the system some talismans and mixtures like rooster blood and boy’s urine, which it had refused in the past.

Sure enough, the system now accepted them as well, proof that people had begun to require such items—where there is demand, a market is sure to follow.

However, talismans were traded for spirit stones, while rooster blood, yellow paper, cinnabar, and similar ingredients were still exchanged for regular currency.

After all, those things had no special properties on their own—it took someone with expertise to craft them into items of power.

A basic evil-warding talisman fetched thirty for one gram of spirit stone, but cost three grams to buy—roughly a thousand yuan per talisman, which was actually quite reasonable.

Before the resurgence of spiritual energy, going to a temple or monastery for a protective charm of dubious effectiveness would cost about as much.

But now, with authentic Daoist talismans inscribed with ghost-warding incantations, they were the best protective charms available—selling for a thousand yuan apiece was not expensive.

Previously, those who bought protective charms did so for peace of mind; few truly believed in their power, and the market was small.

But now, with spiritual energy returning and spirits more easily transforming into ghosts, talismans had become a real necessity.

No one wanted to encounter a ghost or fall victim to supernatural forces, so demand naturally soared.

By this reckoning, when Li Yunfei used seven or eight hundred evil-warding talismans in one go against the White Boar King yesterday, he’d spent seventy or eighty grams of spirit stones—equivalent to seventy or eighty thousand yuan.

It hadn’t seemed like much at the time, but now that he realized the value of talismans, he felt a pang of regret.

Still, he had found a way to make a living: he could draw talismans and exchange them for spirit stones whenever he had spare time.

Evil-warding talismans were the cheapest ones; when he reached Level 30, he could draw the most expensive talismans and sell those for a much better return.

Aside from selling equipment, this was the only reliable way for him to earn money from the system’s marketplace, requiring only some time—trading time for money.

Of course, his craftsmanship was the most valuable part of the process; in essence, he was selling his skill.

He could steadily draw about three talismans a minute, but three evil-warding talismans were nowhere near as valuable as three true-fire or profound-ice talismans.

He didn’t know yet what could be purchased with spirit stones, but when it came to currency, the more the better—who would ever complain about having too much money?

…

After dinner, the donkey-headed wolves returned to their nests, lying flat and quietly absorbing the world’s spiritual energy, cultivating their strength.

Unfortunately, they possessed only instinct and no real cultivation methods—their efficiency was woefully low.

As for Li Yunfei’s own techniques, they were suitable only for humans. After these wolves were able to take human form, they could practice cultivation, but for now, their beastly bodies were incompatible with such methods.

After all, the structure of a human and that of a beast were entirely different—how could cultivation arts possibly be shared?

This was also why humans could cultivate far more efficiently than other creatures.

It was said that the human form was favored by Heaven, known as the Dao Body, and thus all living beings sought to take on human shape.

Only by assuming human form could one perfect their achievements and aspire to the immortal path.

The Donkey-Headed Wolf King did not meditate, but lay beside Li Yunfei, chatting idly with him and the little fox.

In their conversation, Li Yunfei learned something important.

Before the resurgence of spiritual energy, this place had already contained faint traces of it, seemingly emanating from deep within the cave.

Upon hearing this, Li Yunfei was intrigued and asked the Wolf King to lead him into the depths of the cavern.

The Wolf King agreed readily, leading Li Yunfei and the little fox inward.

The cave system was vast and twisting, with countless branches—without the Wolf King’s guidance, one could easily get lost.

But Li Yunfei had no such worries, as the little fox’s sense of smell was as keen as any canine’s.

Wherever they walked, their scent was left behind, and the little fox could mark their trail with urine, ensuring they wouldn’t lose their way.

The cave burrowed deep into the mountain. After following the Wolf King for over half an hour, Li Yunfei and the little fox finally emerged into a massive cavern.

The moment he entered, Li Yunfei’s breath caught in his throat—then a surge of wild joy followed.

One wall of the cavern glowed with a faint, milky-white light.

The source was a cluster of milky-white stones embedded in the cavern wall.

Li Yunfei took out his own spirit stone, the size of a soybean and weighing one gram, and compared it—there was no difference.

“We’re rich, Honghong, Dalang, we’re rich! Hahahaha…”

Li Yunfei’s laughter echoed endlessly within the cave.

A spirit stone mine.

The reason this area had contained spiritual energy even during the age of spiritual drought was precisely because there was a spirit stone mine within the mountain.

Who knew how many years this mine had existed? After Blue Earth Star’s spiritual energy was depleted, the spirit stones here slowly released what was left, allowing this region to retain a faint trace of spiritual power even during the dry era.

Thanks to this, the donkey-headed wolves remained strong from generation to generation, holding this territory, though the energy was too weak to trigger mutation or grant intelligence.

With the resurgence, the spirit stone mine was replenished by the world’s energy, becoming saturated once more.

It was like a battery recharged after being nearly depleted.

Chances were, spirit stones elsewhere in the world came from similar sources.

That meant there must be many such mines across the Great Xia domain, though their energy had long since been exhausted.

For that reason, all these years, no supernatural beings had emerged—there simply weren’t any resources for cultivation.

Now, with the return of spiritual energy, the stones were recharged and became the best possible resource for cultivation.

If his guess was right, how vast must this mine be, to have persisted through the age of spiritual drought without being depleted?

This was why Li Yunfei declared they were rich.

Go out?

Why bother? Wouldn’t it be better to stay here and mine?

Compared to the dry era, this spirit stone mine was a veritable goldmine.

Or rather, it was even better—gold ore needed refining, but spirit stones could be used directly, whether for cultivation or as currency, making them incomparably convenient.