To be honest, Jiang Hai had never been interested in truffles.
It wasn't surprising. His tastes leaned heavily toward Chinese cuisine, so Western delicacies rarely appealed to him. People are like that—when they don't like something, they instinctively ignore it.
Besides, cultivating truffles required very particular conditions—high-quality beef and fish were essential—so Jiang Hai had never considered them. But after tasting truffles at Du Famen's, his curiosity was piqued.
Of course, his interest wasn't only because they tasted good. The main reason was their astonishing price. Anything that expensive was worth trying.
When he returned, he got hold of some truffle saplings. Strictly speaking, truffles don't have "seeds." They aren't exactly mycelium either. To grow them, one must use sterile seedlings artificially inoculated with truffle spores, plant them in suitable soil, and then care for them meticulously.
Normally, truffles only begin to appear after four or five years, gradually increasing in yield and reaching a production lifespan of forty to fifty years. Jiang Hai, however, had no idea about this.
After acquiring the saplings, he planted them in a section of his forest. True to his nature, his enthusiasm quickly faded. He infused each tree with spiritual energy for a few days, then lost interest and left them alone. Time slipped by unnoticed—until, unexpectedly, the truffles had grown.
The one Qi Ya brought him was indeed a truffle. Jiang Hai examined it carefully: a white truffle, about two fingers thick, weighing around a dozen grams.
Don't underestimate a dozen grams of white truffle. The price was astronomical, especially since artificial cultivation was still relatively new.
From what Jiang Hai understood, truffles were graded into categories—special, first, and second grade—with prices varying significantly by diameter. For example, black truffles sold in China could go for as little as 400 yuan per kilogram, but it was also common to see them priced at 1,200 or even 2,000 yuan per kilogram.
As for white truffles, they were far more valuable. The best came from Italy, and Jiang Hai was confident his were no less expensive. Back in 2013, their price was about $3,500 per kilogram. Even though prices dipped in 2014, they still never fell below $2,000 per kilogram.
Special-grade white truffles were worth even more.
By comparison, Jiang Hai's premium beef—even with all the hype and promotion—sold for around $500 per kilogram. Before the publicity, it had been closer to $400. That was already considered outrageously expensive, yet these truffles were several times pricier.
He had assumed his truffle project had failed. After all, he had barely tended to it, and even if it worked, he expected results only after years. But here they were, thriving.
Jiang Hai couldn't deny it—without his spiritual energy, he would have been nothing but an ordinary loser. Sometimes, having a golden finger really made all the difference.
"I'll go take a look."
Outside, the crisp autumn sun was shining. Jiang Hai grabbed the truffle and stepped out. In the distance, Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai were tumbling in the grass. He chuckled to himself. Xiao Bai was finally catching up to Xiao Huang in strength.
When they'd first arrived, Xiao Huang had completely dominated him, forcing Xiao Bai to play with Ban Ya and Jiu Jiu instead. But now, Xiao Bai no longer cared for Ban Ya, and Jiu Jiu preferred perching on the roof year-round.
Ban Ya, however, was quite content. He had plenty of others to bully—the two guinea pigs and the Greenland seal, White Fur—so he still got to play the role of boss.
Watching the dogs wrestle, Jiang Hai whistled. Both of them instantly bounded over, squatting in front of him, panting and staring eagerly.
"You found this truffle, didn't you? Take me back to where you got it. Let's see if there are more," Jiang Hai said, patting Xiao Huang on the head.
Clever as always, Xiao Huang understood and dashed toward the forest. Jiang Hai followed without hesitation.
As soon as they stepped into the woods, he felt a noticeable drop in temperature. From outside, the forest had looked bright and sunlit, but within it felt cold, as if a chill wind had passed through. The sudden change puzzled him.
Everywhere else on his estate was sunny—why did this patch feel so eerie after just a short absence?
Before Jiang Hai could dwell on it, Xiao Huang had already led him to the spot where the truffles had been found.
The patch of forest was younger than the surrounding woods, but the trees were thriving. The soil was fertile, and his spiritual energy had worked wonders. In less than a year, the saplings had shot up to three meters tall, looking like they were already three years old.
Of course, cutting one open would reveal they were still young, but Jiang Hai had no intention of felling them.
Following Xiao Huang's lead, Jiang Hai watched the dog sniff the ground and dig furiously. Soon, it unearthed two dirt-covered lumps. Carrying them in its mouth, Xiao Huang trotted back. Jiang Hai inspected them and confirmed—they were truffles.
They resembled the one he already held, about two fingers wide and two finger-lengths long, though their surface was rough, grayish with a faint yellow hue. White truffles weren't literally white; the name was only in contrast to black truffles.
Smiling, Jiang Hai nodded. "As expected."
"Where else can I find them? Don't dig this time—just show me," he told Xiao Huang.
The dog bounded off again, quickly identifying a small cluster of twenty or so young trees. Beneath them lay a dozen more truffle patches. Of course, it was only the first year, so the yield was light. Normally truffles took four years to grow; the fact they had appeared at all was already remarkable.
Jiang Hai knew his spiritual energy could accelerate growth to the natural limit of a creature, but it couldn't rewrite its genes. He could, for example, push a mountain lion to its peak and make it lion-like, but he couldn't turn a housecat into a tiger.
Just as he was mulling this over, a sharp, fishy odor hit his nose. He turned his head—and froze.
A massive python was coiled nearby, hissing and flicking its tongue at him.
The sight startled him, though not for the reason one might expect. He recognized this python.
Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai hadn't made a sound, which meant the giant snake wasn't a threat—it was one of Jiang Hai's old "pets," the anaconda he had rescued.
It had been nearly a year since he'd last seen it, and it had grown enormously.
"This spiritual energy is terrifying…" Jiang Hai muttered, swallowing hard.
When he first found it, the anaconda had been only three or four meters long, its thickest point no bigger than a man's calf. But now, after absorbing his spiritual energy, it had become monstrous.
Its girth was nearly as thick as Jiang Hai's waist. At over 1.9 meters tall and weighing more than 200 kilograms, Jiang Hai's waist measured nearly a meter around—yet the snake was already that thick. Its length, he couldn't even guess, but it was certainly much greater than before.
The python flicked its tongue and slowly slithered toward him.
Jiang Hai knew it meant no harm, but the sight of that colossal body gliding closer made his scalp tingle.
(To be continued.)