Chapter 5: The Spirit-Blessed Youth

The rest of the journey passed without incident. When Su Ze passed by the fish market, he bought a bundle of dried fish, then quickly covered his nose and left the foul-smelling place behind.

Upon arriving home, he pushed open the door and placed the dried fish on the floor. Facing the orange-red shadow perched on the beam, he called out, “Come down.”

An orange-red cat leapt down from the roof.

In his previous life, Su Ze had also kept cats, but he had never seen an orange-red one before.

No wonder it was chosen by a princess.

Su Ze recalled that during his studies, he had heard that in Song Dynasty China, people didn’t say they “bought” cats; instead, they said they “engaged” them, even holding elaborate ceremonies for the occasion.

“Taking in a cat is like taking in a concubine”—that was the custom for engaging cats in the Song era.

If one wished to “buy” a cat, they first had to select an auspicious day for the engagement, draft a contract, and choose a betrothal gift for the cat—only then was the engagement considered complete.

Song people signed contracts for all livestock transactions, but the contract for a cat was called a “letter of engagement” or “cat engagement contract,” intended to form an agreement with heavenly deities as witnesses.

This engagement contract resembled a marriage certificate, detailing the date of engagement, the cat’s appearance, and the owner’s requirements—such as suitability for home life and not running away.

If the engaged cat was a kitten born to a house cat, salt had to be sent to the owner’s household; if it was a wild cat, a string of small fish was given to the cat’s mother.

Due to the high population density in Bianjing City and the mingling of shops and residences, rat infestations were severe in the Song era, so the business of engaging cats flourished.

Su Ze’s former self had also considered engaging a cat, but he felt he could hardly support himself, let alone a cat, so he gave up, enduring the mice scurrying about his home.

Could there really be orange-red cats in this world?

While the kitten nibbled on the dried fish, Su Ze couldn’t resist stroking its head.

Some orange-red powder fell onto his fingertips, causing him to chuckle.

So even the princess of Song could be deceived?

It turned out that the cat named Rouge Snow was not naturally orange-red but dyed by unscrupulous merchants with orange-red pigment.

They probably accepted the princess’s engagement gift money, then deliberately let the cat escape during the ceremony, cheating the princess’s money while concealing their secret.

Were scams in the Song Dynasty this sophisticated?

Su Ze smiled faintly, found a wooden comb in the house, and quickly combed off the orange-red pigment from the fur, revealing a pure white cat beneath.

“Rouge Snow, the white cat painted with rouge—this scammer didn’t entirely lie; the answer was hidden in the name, hahaha.”

Su Ze applauded the scammer’s audacity and sense of humor.

However, he had more important matters to attend to. Returning to his desk, Su Ze took out the hidden book titled The Peach Blossom Spring and placed his palm on its cover.

When he closed his eyes, dizziness washed over him again, but this time it was much milder.

Opening his eyes, Su Ze found himself standing at the dock of the Peach Blossom Spring, with the little radish figure hopping excitedly before him.

“Truly worthy of being the new master of Peach Blossom Spring—you’ve gathered the essence of literary lineage so quickly!”

“Literary lineage essence—is that the energy from the calligraphy on Wang Anshi’s letter paper?”

“Yes, yes! Calligraphic works also contain the essence of literary lineage.”

I see. Considering how much famous calligraphy sells for in later ages, Wang Anshi’s authentic works must be quite valuable.

“How much literary essence can I absorb?”

“That piece of letter paper can provide 10 points of literary essence!”

Ten points?

Su Ze had no clear concept of this number; he could only think of literary essence as a form of currency that must be tied to goods to have value.

He asked further, “Does absorbing literary essence affect the original object?”

“Of course not. The literary essence doesn’t harm the original, but a work can only be absorbed once.”

That’s a relief. If the original were destroyed after absorption, it would be a waste, especially if he later collected precious antiques from the past.

Next, Su Ze asked what concerned him most:

“You said last time that literary essence can be used to buy things. How does that work?”

The little radish figure suddenly burrowed into the ground, then its two “hands” each grabbed an item and handed them to Su Ze.

The left hand held a scroll, the right a wooden plaque.

Unrolling the scroll, Su Ze saw writing and illustrations—it was the user manual for Peach Blossom Spring.

The radish figure explained:

“The master of Peach Blossom Spring can use literary essence to purchase construction blueprints. The Spirit Essence Children will help you build the corresponding facilities and buildings.”

“The scroll also lists prices for recruiting various Spirit Essence Children. You can write the types you need on the wooden plaque and hang it on the notice board at Peach Blossom Dock. Spirit Essence Children will respond to your call and help with the work.”

So that’s it! Su Ze understood immediately—Peach Blossom Spring was essentially a farming simulation game.

Eagerly, he flipped through the scroll and saw several buildings:

“Low-grade Dry Field”

Price: 5 points of literary essence per mu (Chinese acre);

Function: Suitable for planting drought-resistant crops like beans, millet, and wheat. In the real world, crops are harvested once a month and require a Farm Spirit Essence Child to manage.

“Only one harvest per month?”

The radish figure said, “Peach Blossom Spring is a blessed realm where crops grow extraordinarily fast. From sowing to harvest takes just one month!”

“Can the harvested goods be taken out?”

“Of course. Whether grain or processed items made within Peach Blossom Spring, all can be taken out.”

This golden ability was stronger than expected.

In the Song era, a family owning 50 mu was considered a fourth-tier household, also called a lower-class household.

With current agricultural technology, even well-managed land yields two harvests per year at most.

His Peach Blossom Spring’s one mu could yield twelve harvests annually, equivalent to six mu of real land!

Moreover, the Song era did not enforce separate dwellings; it was normal for three generations and seven or eight people to crowd together, working day and night just to survive.

Also, according to the description, he could recruit Farm Spirit Essence Children to tend the fields, so he wouldn’t have to do any work himself but still obtain grain.

Su Ze was delighted. From his memories, his former self had been extremely poor, nearly exhausting the family fortune to obtain the right to study.

That was why he always had to attend those banquets where others treated him like a clown—he was just too hungry.

Now, with this golden ability and food self-sufficiency, plus a portable Peach Blossom Spring, his food problems were solved.

Su Ze continued to peruse the scroll and saw several more buildings:

“Mid-mountain Bamboo Grove,” priced at 5 points per mu, requiring a Forest Spirit Essence Child to manage, producing bamboo and bamboo shoots.

“Low-grade Pond,” priced at 10 points per mu, requiring a Fishing Spirit Essence Child to manage, producing fish, shrimp, lotus roots, and water caltrops.

“Low-grade Paddy Field,” priced at 10 points per mu, managed by a Farm Spirit Essence Child, suitable for water-loving crops like rice.