Li Mo woke up roughly a two-hour period later than usual.
Possibly because the memory influx in such a short time was too chaotic, even after he regained consciousness, he still felt as if he had a hangover, his head throbbing as if it might split.
He closed his eyes and practiced nourishing his spirit for a long while before beginning his routine stretches.
Not until the sun climbed higher in the sky did Li Mo stop, drenched in sweat, having used these hours to clarify his plans going forward.
Li Mo changed into a set of fresh clothes, fastening the spiritual tablet to an obvious spot at his waist.
He left the room briskly, heading directly toward the Medical Hall where the cultivation techniques were passed down, coincidentally brushing past apprentices who seemed like soulless husks.
The apprentice painters noticed Li Mo and couldn't help but display surprised expressions.
They watched with eyes wide as Li Mo left the confines of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall, his figure gradually disappearing into the bustling courtyard under the blinding sunlight.
The apprentice painters, one after another, froze in a daze before returning to ink preparation and painting, as the rich aroma of ink wafted throughout the room.
From the moment Li Mo stepped out of the Calligraphy and Painting Hall, his status had soared far beyond them.
To become a formal painter took immense effort—on average, the hall only produced one painter every six months, and each apprentice typically needed to practice for at least five years.
The majority of apprentices would be buried under stacks of thick Xuan paper beneath their feet.
Li Mo didn't rush to leave the pawn shop; instead, he made a point to visit Li Qingfang and her younger brother, and he felt reassured upon seeing them reading.
The school was sizeable, with around a hundred children reciting poetry within.
"Guan Guan cries the ospreys, on the islets of the river…"
The teacher in charge was severely weathered, possessing only one intact arm. Compared to the vibrant children, his presence seemed even more lifeless.
Li Qingfang was on the verge of dozing off when, in a dazed moment, she noticed a familiar figure at the window.
Startled, she opened her eyes wide, but the figure had vanished completely, leaving her head smacked lightly by the teacher's ruler.
Li Mo, meanwhile, was walking out of the pawn shop.
Along the way, he found himself experiencing the perks of being a painter—workers responsible for odd jobs greeted him courteously wherever he went.
Li Mo originally intended to look for Zhao Zhu but suddenly realized that since the Calligraphy and Painting Hall stationed cultivators, the Miscellaneous Hall surely would too.
After all, he was merely a civilian in name; caution would be wiser.
Li Mo seized the daytime brightness to follow the route in his memory toward the Medical Hall.
Compared to when he had first arrived in Rong Town, Li Mo now saw things in an entirely different light. Spotting numerous grotesquely misshapen figures, he understood that they were practitioners of various spells.
Cultivators hurried busily to the outskirts of Rong Town or dragged themselves back into the town visibly fatigued.
Li Mo immediately understood that Rong Town's surface calm was deceptive—the Cultivation World was rife with unimaginable dangers.
But with his current abilities, he couldn't influence events; should he truly encounter peril, his outcome would undoubtedly be death and Dao disappearing.
Li Mo's expression grew solemn, his steps quickening.
The Medical Hall soon appeared before his eyes.
Li Mo circled the Medical Hall several times, noting that its grounds were twice the size of the pawn shop and that each side door was heavily guarded.
Located at the center of the Outer City District, the Medical Hall's importance was self-evident.
Without hesitation, Li Mo stepped through the open main doors. Behind bamboo screens carved with Qing Mountain motifs lay rows of familiar wooden cabinets typical of medical establishments.
A dozen clerks busied themselves with various tasks, mainly drying medicinal herbs or attending to townspeople seeking treatment at the hall.
The illnesses they handled predominantly stemmed from the Death Disease, which caused bodily decay. If left untreated, within a century they would inevitably turn into living corpses.
No wonder it was common for townsfolk with severe Death Disease to yet remain unaffected in their ability to work.
"Young man, are you here for a consultation?"
A clerk with a shrewd eye noticed Li Mo and hurriedly approached him.
Though Li Mo was not old, the attire he wore marked him as someone from the pawn shop. Being able to move freely in and out of the pawn shop signified considerable status.
The clerk became increasingly attentive, realizing that Li Mo was likely no older than ten years. It wouldn't be surprising if his family's elders held high positions at the pawn shop.
Unbeknownst to him, Li Mo was not even a native of Rong Town. Just over two months ago, he had been doing carpentry work in Niu Village alongside his father and brother.
"I'm looking for Han Cai, Doctor Han."
The mention of Han Cai's name caused the clerk to shudder visibly, his expression turning fearful, yet he still reluctantly agreed.
"I'll lead the way up ahead."
Li Mo felt baffled and couldn't help but ask the clerk, "Doctor Han has a bad temper?"
"His temper… I'm not too sure."
The clerk's words were vague, stating only that Han Cai was the most experienced figure in the Medical Hall, but none among them dared get close to Han Cai.
As they ventured deeper into the Medical Hall, piercing screams echoed persistently, accompanied by a thick medicinal aroma that assaulted their senses.
Even the reputed Yama Hell might not be so grim.
Through the corners of his eye, Li Mo surveyed the surroundings and just caught sight of consultation rooms partially obscured by curtains, where patches of red-black flesh and blood were visible on the ground.
Lowering his gaze, he swept his eyes across and felt his skin prickle with goosebumps.
A surgery involving the reattachment of severed limbs was underway in the consultation room.
Though Li Mo wasn't shocked by limb reattachment itself—after all, in ancient history, he had seen accounts of surgical procedures—it was the callous, primitive methods that jolted his senses. Poor sanitary conditions had once led to staggering mortality rates in the past.
But now, with Immortality in existence, the body's tolerance for pain had significantly increased, and infection was no longer an issue.
Developing basic surgical practices seemed natural.
Yet the doctor's methods—weren't they far too crude?
The exposed tissues of the limb were harshly sewn together with a silver thread, and for missing flesh, a gelatinous ointment was used as filler.
Anesthesia? None whatsoever.
"Hm?"
The doctor seemed to have noticed Li Mo. The latter immediately retracted his gaze, hurriedly following the clerk's increasingly frantic pace, fleeing the consultation room in embarrassment.
Li Mo secretly felt relieved that he had been assigned to the pawn shop instead of the Medical Hall.
He could never treat living people as lifeless objects like Han Cai did. Though Immortality made it harder to kill someone than to heal them, such ruthlessness was beyond him.
Passing through the inner hall, Li Mo found himself facing a courtyard surrounded by bamboo groves. Trickling streams flowed from the mountain top, forming a small creek that eventually pooled into a pond.
The pond's surface was strewn with greenish algae, but no fish could be seen swimming beneath.
The courtyard housed several three-story tiled houses.
They headed for the central house, its walls mottled with mold and crimson climbing vines covering the cracks, while the chirping of insects carried a faint trace of chill.
The signboard was engraved with the words "Miao Shou Inn."
The clerk pushed open the creaking door. The dimly lit room inside was eerily empty, with furniture far larger than ordinary size.
Swallowing nervously, he mustered courage and called out, "Doctor Han, someone's here to see you."
"Doctor Han…"
"I know. Hahaha."
A deep male voice echoed from the second floor, relieving the clerk's tension. Without another word, he left Li Mo behind and hurriedly departed.
Li Mo used the sunlight filtering in to examine the interior decor, his gaze soon filled with unspeakable shock.
Suspended from the ceiling were dozens of Liu Li jars containing liquids of various unnatural hues, within which shrunken, distorted Five Internal Organs were steeped.
Most crucially, according to the information drawn from the Creation Book, the contents of the jars were:
[Spiritual Energy]and [Spirit Roots].