"One drop of precious liquid every five days means six drops per month, doubling the efficiency of Hundred Legs' venom production."
Moreover, the medicinal properties were gentle enough for even Lady Qin to consume. It replenished her energy and blood, bringing a rosy glow to her cheeks that made time seem powerless against her beauty.
The existence of the Purple Seven-Leaf Golden Treasure Herb was undoubtedly one of the family's most valuable assets. Preliminary estimates suggested it could provide crucial support for the Li family's martial development over the next twenty to thirty years.
Forget the future—just look at the present. At the Zhou family's training grounds, Li Pingfu single-handedly fought against three opponents with ease. The tendons and bones throughout his body emitted a series of low, thunderous cracks, sounding like the deep growl of a wild mountain cat, vibrating through the air.
Zhou Enxian narrowed his eyes, both amazed and admiring. "The younger generation is truly formidable."
The simultaneous resonance of tendons and bones, producing tiger-leopard thunder sounds—this was typically only achievable upon reaching the "Bone Realm." Yet Li Pingfu, still in the "Tendon Realm," had already grasped the mysteries of the Bone Realm. His future accomplishments would be immeasurable.
Of course, raw talent alone couldn't account for such rapid progress. To cultivate martial arts properly, precious blood qi medicines were indispensable.
"Not bad for former landlords," Zhou Enxian thought. "The Li brothers have quite the foundation—talent, wealth, and stable roots." He decided to drink and chat with them more often to strengthen their bond. Beyond that, he had no other thoughts nor any desire to pry. Everyone had their secrets!
Having spent half his life in martial arts—killing and being wounded—he'd walked the bloody path of the martial world. At his current age, with no further progress possible, his ambitions and desires had diminished greatly. Now he only hoped his disciples would prosper, counting on them for support in old age.
Li Pingcan was planting paper mulberry trees in the wasteland.
Using a shovel, he dug hole after hole, planting saplings gathered from the mountains one by one. After finishing a batch, he leaned on his shovel like an old farmer, wiping sweat while wearing an expectant smile.
The sudden cold weather made him wonder if they'd survive.
Recent days had been too busy, delaying his tree-planting plans. The main reason was the intense autumn heat—planting trees during such conditions reduced survival rates, making it inefficient.
Fortunately, the treasure herb had increased his strength, making planting easier.
[You've successfully planted a paper mulberry tree. Druid experience +1]
The panel notification referred to previously planted trees that had finally taken root, though only about a quarter survived. His Druid experience rose from 572 to 591 points—still over 400 living saplings short of the 1000 needed for level-up.
"I hope to finish planting before next winter," he muttered.
Anything would be better than the extreme drought three years ago—that disaster had left a deep impression.
Li Pingcan washed his face at the stream and gathered his tools to head home. As he approached the village houses, he heard noisy commotion.
At first he assumed it was just villagers bickering—country life was like that, with people quarreling over everything, even children not using their family's cesspool for waste (which was valuable as fertilizer and pig feed).
But then he caught wind of serious news: the town had posted notices—this year's autumn taxes wouldn't accept silver, but would collect grain instead!
Some said it was due to Phoenix County's influence; others speculated impending war... theories abounded.
"Damn it, silver was better! Now we'll have to buy grain at town, and prices will skyrocket!"
"I bet those damn clerks came up with this scheme to line their pockets!"
Villagers complained bitterly.
While silver and grain taxes might seem equivalent, the difference was huge. Just consider the "ghost feet" and transportation wastage—layer upon layer of exploitation could add 20-30% more grain.
But when the imperial court decreed changes, what could they do? They had to accept it gratefully and joyfully!
Silver payments had been Peach Blossom Village's comfort zone. This change unsettled Li Pingcan, but lacking expertise, he decided to consult his father.
"This isn't good news," Li Rongzhou said solemnly.
The Great Yu Dynasty's tax system was a poll tax—all males over seven paid full tax, females half. Peach Blossom Village primarily grew peaches; their dry-field rice was just for subsistence. Paying taxes in grain meant their household owed over four dan.
"Prepare six dan first," Li Rongzhou instructed.
Li Pingcan frowned. "Why six when the tax is four?"
Li Rongzhou explained, "You've never seen 'heap-and-kick' measurement, Can'er. Officials deliberately shake and kick the measuring vessel to spill grain—the overflow doesn't count toward your tax. Farmers have suffered this 'ghost feet' exploitation forever."
Li Pingcan suddenly understood—the government openly cheated people, who then had to thank them for it!
Li Ping'an interjected, "Father, have you forgotten? Our family has a xiucai now—we're exempt from poll tax."
The revelation left father and sons staring at each other.
After so long as beasts of burden, they'd grown accustomed—almost forgetting they'd risen in class!
After the relief came sighs. While their family was free, the rest of Peach Blossom Village still suffered. Only martial artists like Zhou Enxian were exempt—even the old village chief had to pay grain taxes properly.
"How much grain do we have left?"
"About thirty dan." This included the autumn rice harvest plus grain Li Pingcan had purchased earlier—enough for eight or nine months.
After consideration, Li Rongzhou said, "Your Uncle Li Fang planted less this year but has more mouths to feed. With grain prices about to soar, buying now would be terrible. Pingfu, share some with your uncle."
"Got it," Li Pingfu responded, glancing at his younger brother.
Li Pingcan voiced no objection.
Though their father had saved Uncle Li Fang's life—a sky-high debt—over the years Uncle Li had constantly brought gifts, making the families quite close. In times like these, helping when possible was natural.
Often, good neighbors were better than distant relatives.
"Thank you, Brother Can!"
Li Qian's round cheeks dimpled as she happily accepted two malt candies from Li Pingcan, bouncing with joy, her small face flushed red.
Even young girls harbored secret crushes. With his fair skin and delicate features, Li Pingcan was quite the handsome youth, popular among girls.
Meanwhile, Li Pingfu finished transporting grain to Uncle Li Fang's storage.
"Thank you so much," Li Fang said gratefully.
"Uncle, between our families, no thanks needed! Let's drink together sometime—Father misses your spring peach wine."
"Haha, we'll drink tomorrow!"
The simple, honest man beamed. The Li Rongzhou brothers were truly decent folk.
The clip-clop of horse hooves and a driver's calls sounded outside.
Li Pingfu looked out to see grain merchants arriving in Peach Blossom Village—most villagers would need to buy grain to pay taxes.
After a brief glance, he paid no further attention.
Amid the merchants' bustling activity, a figure moved among the villagers, chatting enthusiastically.
"Heard your village produced a xiucai?"
"Damn right!" Under the envious gaze, the villager swelled with pride. "Youngest Li of Rongzhou's family—I always knew he'd succeed! Now a proper xiucai, bound to become an immortal official someday!"
"Your ancestors must be proud—such excellent feng shui here."
"Of course! Li Ping'an is a true Li descendant—why wouldn't our ancestors protect him?" The villager spoke as if stating obvious truth—after all, they shared common ancestry centuries back. Who could argue?
"Such prosperous descendants," the questioner murmured, glancing toward the Li ancestral graves with flickering eyes.