The Miser, the Archive, and the Broken Chair

The hall Han Li found himself in was unusual—a massive, cylindrical room roughly thirty zhang in diameter and four to five zhang high. Pale red crystals were embedded in the surrounding green stone walls, and a thin layer of white sand covered the floor, giving the entire hall a clean, orderly appearance.

But if one looked up, they would be startled to find that the ceiling was covered in hanging white stalactites, clustered thickly everywhere. This was a rare limestone cavern that had been only slightly modified to create the present space.

Three passages were evenly spaced around the perimeter of the hall. Two of them bore ancient characters carved into the stone beside the entrance—one marked "Artifacts," the other "Elixirs." The third passage was bare, with no markings of any kind.

The hall was empty. Han Li swept his gaze across it, hesitated for a moment, then walked toward the passage marked "Elixirs."

The passage was not long. After a dozen paces, it turned a corner, and a slightly larger room appeared at the end. Inside was a long table, and standing beside it was an elderly man with a ruddy complexion, grinning at Han Li.

Behind the table, several old, beat-up shelves lined the wall, cluttered with all kinds of cauldrons, raw materials, and strange items Han Li had never even heard of.

Before Han Li could speak, the old man burst out cheerfully, "Ah, young friend! You look new here—first time, is it? These days, fewer and fewer fresh faces come to this godforsaken place. I'm so sick of looking at the same old deadpan mugs! It's wonderful to see a younger newcomer!"

The old man shook his head as he spoke, wearing a rather unserious expression.

But Han Li had already noticed that his Celestial Eye Technique had no effect on this man—he could not read the old man's depth at all. That meant this elder was another Foundation Establishment cultivator. Han Li did not dare be careless.

He quickly bowed and said, "This junior greets Senior Uncle. This is indeed my first time at Yuelu Hall. I ask Senior Uncle for guidance!" Han Li kept his posture low.

"If there's anything you don't understand, young friend, just ask. And my surname is Xu—call me Uncle Xu or Old Xu. None of this 'Senior Uncle' business. I don't care for it!" The old man quickly corrected Han Li's form of address, seeming quite particular about it.

"Then… this junior will obey!" Han Li hesitated briefly before agreeing indifferently. He found the man somewhat odd.

"That's more like it. Now, tell me why you've come." Old Xu nodded, satisfied.

"I would like to look over some elixir recipes and related texts, to study the art of alchemy," Han Li said, trying to make his words as roundabout and tactful as possible, hoping not to draw too much attention.

"Elixir recipes and books? Head up those stairs, then." To Han Li's surprise, the old man showed no interest in questioning him further. He casually pulled out a black token, cast a spell, and a stone staircase materialized out of thin air in the space between the shelf and the wall.

Delighted, Han Li hurried to the staircase. But just as he was about to step up, Old Xu's expression turned sly.

"Second-floor reading: one low-grade spirit stone per hour. Originals may not be removed. If you wish to copy content, that'll be an additional ten spirit stones per document."

Before Han Li could even set foot on the stairs, Old Xu, now behind him, recited the rules in an unhurried tone. Han Li's movement froze. He nearly cursed aloud.

This was extortion! Never mind the ten-spirit-stone copying fee—even the one-spirit-stone-per-hour browsing fee would scare off most destitute disciples.

A low-level disciple, through various sect duties, could earn only twenty to thirty spirit stones in an entire year. After accounting for daily cultivation expenses and other costs, what they could actually save was pitifully few.

This old man's pricing was utterly shameless! Han Li's impression of the elder did a complete one-eighty. This was a true profiteer!

Though a trace of resentment flickered across Han Li's face, he did not let the old man's words stop him. Without turning back, he tossed a low-grade spirit stone over his shoulder into the old man's hand and quickly climbed to the second floor.

"Interesting! Not scared off by the price. Looks like a bit of a moneybags. Heh, looks like I'm in for a bit of a windfall!" Uncle Xu, seeing Han Li's generous gesture, narrowed his eyes into crescent moons with glee. He rubbed the spirit stone vigorously against his sleeve before holding it up for a closer look, his miserly nature fully exposed—a far cry from the approachable demeanor he had shown at first.

Meanwhile, Han Li suppressed his irritation and forced himself to calm down before taking a proper look at the second floor.

It was nothing like the spacious, brightly lit hall filled with countless books and bamboo slips he had imagined. The room was not small, but it was sparsely furnished.

Two dark bookshelves. One grimy table. One broken chair. That was the room's entire inventory. The bookshelves held perhaps twenty or thirty yellowed old books; the table had a few bundles of battered bamboo slips and two jade slips whose original color was no longer recognizable.

"So shabby? Did I walk into the wrong place? This can't be the hidden scripture library of a great immortal sect. It looks more like a poor scholar's rundown study!" Han Li was thoroughly disappointed by the sight. If not for his fear of Old Xu's unfathomable cultivation, he would have stormed back downstairs, grabbed the man by the collar, and demanded an explanation.

Taking a deep breath, Han Li calmed himself and walked to one of the bookshelves. He casually pulled out an old book and began to leaf through it.

"The five elements of heaven and earth correspond to the five viscera. With gold-needle acupuncture, essence can be transformed to generate vitality…" He read only a few opening sentences before frowning in surprise. He closed the book and glanced at its cover.

"Hua's Secret Gold-Needle Art"—five large characters appeared before his eyes.

Han Li's face darkened. It was not that the book was bad. The content was a rare and genuine gold-needle healing art, a secret method that could revive the dying and stimulate a patient's latent vitality. But what did gold-needle acupuncture have to do with alchemy? And to make matters worse, he had already read this book countless times under Doctor Mo and could recite it backward. This was clearly a mundane medical text. How could it be sitting here in an immortal sect's library?

A string of questions flooded Han Li's mind, tightening his brow. But when his gaze fell on the remaining books on the shelf, an even worse premonition crept into his heart.

Han Li frantically flipped through every remaining old book. With each book he finished, his expression grew darker. When he had gone through every book on the second shelf as well, his face was black as a storm cloud.

Not one of these twenty-odd books was an alchemy text. They were either medical healing arts, folk remedies for strange diseases, or—most absurdly—a poison master's self-written manual on venoms. All of them were mundane-world texts.

"Time's up! Another spirit stone if you want to keep reading," Old Xu suddenly called from downstairs.

Han Li was speechless. He was supposed to pay spirit stones for this pile of junk? But his gaze drifted to the items on the table, and he hesitated. Against his better judgment, he fished out another spirit stone and tossed it down the stairs.

"Spirit stone received. Continue if you wish, young friend. I won't disturb you!" Old Xu said cheerfully from below.

Han Li ignored him. He understood perfectly: for a man who made no secret of his greed, respect meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was whether Han Li could keep producing spirit stones for his profit.

But Han Li had no intention of wasting another stone. This time, he flipped through the bamboo slips on the table much faster, scanning only for their general contents rather than reading every line.

Under the soft white light of a large moonstone embedded in the ceiling, Han Li's expression fluctuated—brightening, then darkening, then uncertain again as he worked through the bundles of slips. When he finished the last one, he stacked them back in place and let out a quiet sigh.

This time, the bamboo slips did contain a few elixir recipes and some alchemical notes. But unfortunately, judging by the ingredients listed, these elixirs were of similar potency to his Yellow Dragon Pills and Golden Marrow Pills—completely useless to him now that his Eternal Spring Art had reached the eleventh layer.

That left only one hope: the two fist-sized jade slips resting on the table. Han Li prayed they contained something that would not send him away empty-handed.