Chapter 78: Changes in the Bamboo Forest

A sudden warning bell rang in Wu Yuan’s instincts.

Acting on pure reflex, he lashed out with a vine whip, wrapping it around Big Old Black’s waist and yanking the massive rat backward.

“Get back,” Wu Yuan commanded, his voice tight. “My perception blurs if we go any deeper. The energy density ahead is too chaotic. It’s not safe for you.”

Big Old Black stumbled but regained his footing, looking confused.

“Let the smaller rat demons handle the excavation from here,” Wu Yuan continued, releasing his grip. “They can dig slowly to avoid accidents. We can’t risk destabilizing the vein.”

He gestured toward the glowing rock face. “Mark off a perimeter around the Ore Mother. Do not touch it. For now, focus only on extracting the surrounding Purple Jade.”

Having secured the mining operation, Wu Yuan turned and led Little Yellow up toward the surface, heading for the Bamboo Forest Spiritual Land.

Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of bamboo leaves, painting the ground in a dappled mosaic of light and shadow. The air here was fresh, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the mines.

“Squeak!”

Little Yellow shot forward like a wild stallion set loose, rocketing toward his personal garden. This slope, nestled deep within the grove, boasted the highest concentration of Spiritual Qi on the mountain. A gentle breeze swept through, causing the sea of emerald leaves to rustle like whispering silk.

This sanctuary had originally been Bibo’s territory.

Back when the beaver was stationed here, nursing internal injuries that barred him from breaking through, he had constructed a bamboo hut to pass the time. He had spent his days sipping bamboo leaf tea, maintaining his cultivation, and training the younger generation of the Bibo River Otters.

Wu Yuan had to admit, those beavers were born engineers.

They weren’t just slapping mud together; these were high-end architectural talents who had supposedly studied at the East Sea Dragon Palace. Their craftsmanship and aesthetic sense were impeccable.

Bibo, in particular, was a Master Architect. Wu Yuan couldn’t quite articulate why Bibo’s creations were superior, but everything the beaver built just felt right. It was ergonomic, intuitive, and deeply comfortable.

Take the pond in the center of the grove, for instance.

Originally, it had been nothing more than a muddy pit where rainwater collected. Bibo had transformed it completely. He had reinforced the basin with Spirit Stone masonry and used hollow Spiritual Bamboo piping to channel fresh water.

The renovation had made the pond vibrant, subtly harmonizing its flow with the surrounding environment. The result was a 20% increase in its natural healing and calming effects.

Wu Yuan often soaked here, letting the water wash over him while he pondered cultivation theory. The tranquility of the grove and the efficacy of the bath had contributed significantly to his recent progress.

As he approached the water’s edge, Wu Yuan’s eyes narrowed.

He noticed tiny, effervescent bubbles rising continuously from the pond’s floor. They weren’t air bubbles—they glowed with a faint, pale violet hue.

Purple Qi?

Wu Yuan analyzed the gas. It wasn’t the Solar Purple Qi he absorbed at sunrise. This was Earth Vein Purple Qi, a subterranean variant released by the Purple Jade deposit beneath the mountain.

As the gas filtered up through the soil and rock, it purified the Spiritual Qi in the water. It was a natural filtration system that not only kept the pond pristine but actively enhanced its medicinal properties.

“Boss! Boss!”

Little Yellow’s shout broke his reverie. The hamster was standing by his garden, waving his paws frantically.

“The Purple Bamboo is growing super fast! It’s gonna be mature in just a few days!” Little Yellow chirped. “The mine downstairs didn’t hurt them at all!”

Wu Yuan moved closer to inspect the crop.

He noticed immediately that this batch was different. Compared to ordinary Purple Bamboo, the violet hue of these stalks was deeper, richer. More striking were the golden speckles scattered across the bark, shimmering like stars twinkling in the night sky.

Wu Yuan extended a claw and tapped a stalk.

Clink.

It didn’t sound like wood. It produced a crisp, melodic chime, indistinguishable from two pieces of fine jade colliding.

Beneficial mutation, Wu Yuan realized. The concentration of Purple Jade and Earth Qi from the vein below has altered their cellular structure.

It was likely that future generations of this bamboo would require Purple Jade to grow properly. It made sense; the promotion of Purple Jade Bamboo required Purple Jade Marrow, so the base plant developing an affinity for the mineral was a logical step.

“Little Green Mountain really is a recovering Grotto-Heaven,” Wu Yuan muttered, nodding with satisfaction. “The transformation is seeping into the very roots of the mountain range.”

He turned his attention to the centerpiece of the garden: the solitary stalk of [Purple Jade Bamboo].

Little Yellow bounced up and down, pointing at a new segment. “Boss, look! It grew a ninth segment! It’s promoted to a Middle Grade Spiritual Plant! And I grew it with my own two paws!”

Wu Yuan smiled, reaching out to rub the hamster’s head. “Good job. A Middle Grade Purple Jade Bamboo is strong enough to handle a trimming without stunting its growth. Once we harvest, you can keep a few pieces to play with.”

Little Yellow beamed, his chest puffing out with pride as he ran victory laps around the plant.

Wu Yuan watched him with a benevolent, if slightly indifferent, gaze.

Truthfully, he didn’t have much use for the plant anymore. For his current artifact refining plans, the mutated Low Grade Purple Bamboo was more than sufficient. And given his current status as the King of Little Green Mountain, a single Middle Grade plant was no longer a treasure worth obsessing over. He was rich now.

Wu Yuan turned to Big Old Black and the Pangolin, his expression hardening into professional seriousness.

“Listen up. You two are to coordinate a harvest operation.”

He pointed toward the giant rock formation. “Scour the area near the outcrop. Collect every scrap of Purple Jade you can find and hand it over to Little Yellow. He needs it to nurture the bamboo.”

“I need you to cultivate as much of this Low Grade [Purple Bamboo] as possible,” Wu Yuan emphasized. “I’m going to need a massive stockpile for artifact refining.”

Big Old Black’s round eyes went wide. His jaw dropped, revealing a goofy grin of pure ecstasy.

“Boss! You… you’re finally gonna start refining?” Big Old Black boomed, his voice trembling with suppressed hype. “Does that mean… does that mean I, Big Old Black, might get my own Magical Artifact?”

The large rat was practically vibrating.

His mind was already racing with envy. That flat-tailed beaver Bibo already has a Magical Artifact. There’s no way I, the mighty Big Old Black, am lesser than a wood-chewer! If Boss makes me a custom weapon, I’ll be unstoppable! I’ll be majestic!

He looked at Wu Yuan with eyes full of desperate longing.

Wu Yuan couldn’t help but laugh at the display. He walked over and clapped a paw on his lieutenant’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Wu Yuan promised. “You’ve worked hard, and your contributions haven’t gone unnoticed.”

“Give it some time. Go find some materials that suit your style,” Wu Yuan added. “Once I become Proficient in the refining methods, you’ll be the first to get a custom Magical Artifact.”

Wu Yuan wasn’t a rat who made empty promises.

He had studied the artifact refining manual Bibo had brought back until the pages were worn in his mind. The obscure spirit patterns and complex thermal dynamics, which would baffle a normal beast, were clear as day to him. His “Shocking Wisdom” had already deconstructed the theory.

He had memorized the text so thoroughly it was as familiar as the back of his hand. He was ninety percent confident. All that remained was bridging the gap between theory and practice.

To the side, the Pangolin watched the two rats discuss magical tools with dull, glazed-over eyes.

He swished his tail lazily, smashing a few rocks into gravel just for something to do. He looked utterly bored.

To the Pangolin, things like “Spirit Patterns” and “Artifacts” were abstract nonsense. Too fake. Too complicated.

In his simple world, size was justice. Mass was truth.

As long as he became big enough, and his scales hard enough, nothing could hurt him. That was the only cultivation that mattered.

Well… except for Boss Wu Yuan.

The Boss was tiny, yet his fists hit like falling mountains. It hurt like hell. That was why the Pangolin admired him.

“Squeak! Squeaaak!”

Big Old Black threw his head back and let out a piercing howl, summoning his workforce.

Moments later, a swarm of rats poured into the clearing. These weren’t ordinary scavengers; they were the “Miner Rats”—a specialized breed Wu Yuan had cultivated. They were lean and agile, with intelligent eyes and oversized, shovel-like claws.

These were the tireless workers who had excavated the mountain of Spirit Copper sitting in Wu Yuan’s storage. Wu Yuan had recently slowed down the copper production to let the vein recover, so the workforce had been idle.

Now, they had a new purpose: digging [Purple Jade].

Big Old Black began barking orders, organizing the swarm into squads and pointing them toward the giant rock.

Seeing his lieutenant’s over-enthusiasm, Wu Yuan quickly intervened.

“Blackie, remember! Do not go near the core yourself. Let the swarm do the digging. Your job is logistics—just bring back the jade.”

“You got it, Boss! Don’t worry!”