A Mortal’s Immortal Gourd
Chapter 47: Cultivation

Back on the mountain, Ergouzi began working with the herbs he’d purchased.

Aside from the 50-year-old ginseng, he had already prepared all the other ingredients.

He put them into the stone mill and ground them into an ultra-fine powder, storing the powder in a large clay jar for later use.

As for the main ingredient—ginseng—he had prepared two kinds: 20-year and 30-year-old roots.

Even though neither was quite 50 years, his gourd could enhance their medicinal potency.

He planned to make batches of Peiyuan Gutben Pills using both kinds of ginseng and compare them to the ones he had bought.

The method for making the pills was simple: mix the powdered herbs according to ratio, add refined honey, and roll them by hand into pills.

For the first batch, he only made a few dozen of each type. After drying, he stored them in the gourd for three days.

After testing, the pills made with 20-year ginseng, once enhanced, could match the effects of the official Peiyuan Gutben Pills.

The ones made with 30-year ginseng were even more effective than the store-bought ones.

Still, the most potent pills—after enhancement—were the ones Sima Yi had purchased using authentic 50-year ginseng.

So in the future, if he were to sell any, pills made with 20-year ginseng would suffice.

But for his own use, of course, the stronger the spiritual energy, the better.

It was still best to buy genuine Peiyuan Gutben Pills from Sima Yi and then enhance them using his gourd.

In the days that followed, Ergouzi continued cultivating, reading, farming, and feeding his geese.

His well-fed goose flock had done him proud, hatching a total of 35 goslings.

Time passed day by day.

Three months later, his Lower Dantian was so full of True Qi it felt like his lower belly was swelling.

The feeling was probably similar to pregnancy.

One day, after taking a Peiyuan Gutben Pill, the True Qi in his Dantian surged. He couldn’t hold it back anymore—it burst forth, ran along his Du Meridian, broke through several major acupoints, and charged straight up to the top of his head.

Boom...

His mind buzzed as though a firecracker had exploded, blasting open a space inside his head.

He clearly felt that this space, though small—maybe just an inch wide—held an invisible, untouchable but distinctly perceivable mysterious substance.

According to the books, this meant he had successfully opened his Upper Dantian.

The human body had three Dantians: Lower (three inches below the navel), Middle (center of the chest), and Upper (also called the Mud Pill Palace, located inside the skull directly behind the forehead).

The mysterious substance within the Upper Dantian was what the books referred to as spiritual consciousness.

Because the Upper Dantian stored spiritual consciousness, cultivators also called it the Sea of Consciousness.

After calming his excitement, he tried to manipulate that tiny cluster of spiritual consciousness.

From the moment it appeared, it had already fused with his mental awareness.

In fact, spiritual consciousness was essentially an evolved form of mental awareness.

Like thought, it moved with intention.

At his will, a wave of spiritual consciousness flowed out, covering an area about one zhang in radius.

It penetrated obstacles effortlessly—intangible yet able to cross the tangible.

Wherever it reached, it perceived everything in detail.

Places previously beyond his vision—internal organs, or even behind walls—could now be seen clearly with his spiritual consciousness.

He could see ginseng roots stretching through the soil, absorbing faint orbs of spiritual energy through their tendrils.

Now that he had spiritual consciousness, the first thing he wanted to examine was the yellow-skinned gourd in his hand.

As his spiritual sense touched the gourd,

“Huh?”

The gourd vanished from his hand and appeared inside his Sea of Consciousness.

A moment later, it reappeared in his hand.

Turns out, the gourd could travel in and out of his Sea of Consciousness via spiritual intent.

That meant he could now hide it there, never worrying about others finding it.

Next, he extended his spiritual sense through the gourd’s mouth.

This time, the view differed from what he’d previously seen with the naked eye.

Before, opening the lid revealed only a blank white void.

But now, through spiritual consciousness, he saw a chaotic white mist—

And within it floated countless tiny glowing dots.

Each dot was small like a star in the sky—bright, but not blinding.

Aside from the chaos, the only other thing inside the gourd was these glowing dots.

He didn’t see the items he’d stored—especially the large amounts of water, enough to form a small lake.

Just as the thought formed, his spiritual sense was pulled into one of the dots.

Inside it, he found a massive ball of water—this was where all the water he’d stored had gathered.

Swimming inside were actual fish—likely scooped up by accident when he’d filled it from the river.

Now he realized—his gourd didn’t just store things, it could even raise fish.

No more buying fish in the future.

He held the gourd and thought: “Fish.”

Immediately, a live fish flopped into his hand—just seconds ago it had been swimming inside.

He tossed it back, and it returned to the water within.

Then he began examining each glowing dot inside the gourd with his spiritual sense.

Sure enough, each one corresponded to a stored item.

With some trial and error, he discovered the dots could be merged or split.

He could divide a large water mass into several smaller dots, or group scattered items into a single one.

This would make viewing and managing his stored items much easier.

And since the gourd could now hide within his Sea of Consciousness, it was completely secure.

After playing with the gourd for a long while, in and out with his spiritual sense, Ergouzi finally understood most of its functions and stashed it away in his Sea of Consciousness.

Having now advanced to the fourth layer of Qi Refining, he had successfully opened his Sea of Consciousness, and his spiritual power had grown significantly.

He pulled out the Daoist spell manuals his master had left behind. Previously, his cultivation wasn’t sufficient—only Wind Treading had been barely manageable.

The other spells were beyond his reach, and he’d been too focused on passing the Martial Scholar exam.

Now that he was stronger, he could take his time studying them.

He flipped through the manual.

The spells included:

Sword Control

Fireball

Spring Recovery

Wooden Thorn

Entangle

Water Arrow

Earth Shield

Talisman Arts

Of them, Wind Treading had already proven very useful.

After scanning them, and with his current understanding of cultivation, he quickly got a general grasp.

Sword Control required a proper flying sword artifact—his heavy blade obviously wasn’t suited for that.

Talisman Arts needed specialized talisman paper like those from Dao Xuan Sect to work.

Aura Vision required spiritual consciousness, meaning one needed to reach the fourth layer and open the Upper Dantian.

Entangle needed spiritual plant seeds to activate.

Excluding the ones he couldn’t yet use, Ergouzi decided to start with Aura Vision.

It was a technique to observe aura and spiritual energy using spiritual sense—useful for gauging the strength of warriors and cultivators.

Technically, it wasn’t a spell but more of a skill for controlling spiritual sense.

Having just opened his Sea of Consciousness, learning it came naturally. He mastered it in just over ten days.

Once learned, he used his spiritual sense to examine everything around him.

All living beings gave off some kind of aura—some strong, some weak.

On Shekou Mountain, his own aura was strongest, followed by the adult geese, then the goslings.

Even ants gave off a tiny trace, almost imperceptible.

With this technique, he’d be much safer when traveling.

However, the range and clarity depended on the strength of his spiritual consciousness.

Currently, he could sense clearly up to about one zhang. Beyond that, the vision grew fuzzier with distance.

Next, he began practicing Fireball.

It took over a month to learn.

When True Qi circulated through a special route dozens of times, a thumb-sized fireball appeared at his fingertip.

The flames wavered and flickered, emitting searing heat. Ergouzi carefully controlled it with his spiritual sense to avoid burning himself.

In the process, he’d already scorched several outfits and lost half his eyebrows and hair.

Now, with only one eyebrow left, he didn’t want to lose that too.

At last, the fireball wobbled forward like a drunkard and drifted about two zhang before landing on a rock.

Whoosh—a roaring blaze erupted.

After a dozen seconds, the flames slowly died out.

Inspecting the rock, he found it had melted like glass.

With this kind of power, if it hit someone’s head, it would be lethal.

But the spell was too slow—just forming the fireball took a dozen seconds of True Qi circulation.

In a real fight, he’d be chopped to pieces in that time.

Even then, the fireball floated slowly—he could cross that distance in a blink, faster than the spell.

Such immortal techniques were only useful against enemies who were paralyzed or bedridden.

For agile foes—like Ergouzi himself—they were practically useless.

He’d already realized this back when he fought the black-clad man on Shekou Mountain.

His enemy didn’t cooperate with his sword technique at all, and he missed every one of his dozen strikes.

All in all, this spell was a bit disappointing—good for lighting fires, but not much else.

Still, with more training and higher cultivation, it might improve.

Then he spent another month mastering Water Arrow.

It had the same problem as Fireball—powerful, but too slow. He could slash faster with his sword.

And with his current True Qi reserves, he could only cast three spells in a row before running out.

After that, he stopped holding out much hope for spells.

If a problem could be solved with one sword slash, why bother casting?

Still, he believed it was worthwhile to master the remaining spells.

He wasn’t in a rush and could take his time practicing.

Eventually, he learned several more spells—except for Entangle.

That one needed plant seeds to work. True Qi had to be channeled into the seeds to make them grow rapidly and bind enemies.

Lacking spiritual seeds, he tested mung beans, soybeans, morning glory seeds, and kudzu.

But normal seeds couldn’t withstand the True Qi—they exploded instantly.

Apparently, only special seeds would work.

Maybe the Iron Bramble seeds would be viable. With their barbed thorns and hooks, they’d be perfect for binding enemies.

The ten Iron Bramble plants he had originally planted were now thriving, with lots of branching, forming ten thick clumps.

Covered in terrifying hooked thorns, even the mischief-prone geese didn’t dare touch them.

A few days ago, they had started blooming. He had no idea how long it would take to bear fruit.

According to the agricultural texts he’d read, many trees could be propagated through cuttings.

Deciding to try, he grabbed a hatchet to cut some branches for planting.

But his blade struck the wood like hitting tendon or steel wire—it couldn’t cut through.

Instead, several thorns jabbed into his arm, hooking in and refusing to let go.

After much effort, he finally pulled them out—leaving him bloodied and frustrated.

Unwilling to give up, he drew his Hundred-Jin Heavy Sword and struck from afar.

Boom!—he finally smashed off half a bramble bush.

Dragging the smashed portion over, he pounded it apart with the heavy sword and carefully chopped it into three-inch cuttings.

He cleared a small plot of land and planted 48 branches, watering them with gourd water.

The next day, none had died.

By day three, new buds had sprouted.

By day four, tiny roots had emerged from the base.

They had survived.

Encouraged, he trimmed the remaining bushes to produce more cuttings.

A month later, he had over 500 Iron Bramble seedlings.

With that many, he could finally start planting them at key spots along the mountain path.