When the chimes stopped, Lin Qinghen squatted down in the field, letting out a light, almost inaudible sigh.

Lin Qingshuang had come back.

His older sister, possibly because of certain things among the older generation, had been at odds with him since they were young. But it wouldn’t be long until he’d be leaving the Lin family anyway. Lin Qingshuang had just returned from some training out in the world, and with her birthday banquet coming up, she should theoretically be too busy to bother him for a while.

Lin Qinghen figured he’d just hide out here in the fields to completely avoid trouble. He wouldn’t starve, after all.

And he actually did just that. At night, he spread some round wheat stalks on the ridge and slept right there.

He was fast at farming, but when it came to managing the butterflies, things got tricky. Although the Bee Crystal Butterflies were highly efficient, their original role wasn’t spreading pollen. Lin Qinghen tried to teach them, getting them to understand his intent.

But even though Yu Yinyin had given him control methods, teaching and communication were two different things. The butterflies clearly didn’t understand what he was trying to do. There was a noticeable generation gap between him and the butterflies.

Not having much luck with his studies on the butterflies and with Yu Yinyin nowhere around, he decided to hunt down some references.

The Lin family had a Library Pavilion, divided into sections. The popular areas were where people gathered, filled with practical knowledge on spiritual cultivation, combat techniques, and alchemy. But the area he usually went to was called the Plum Garden in the Library Pavilion, a place holding long-winded encyclopedias, monster lore, and folklore miscellanies—pretty much abandoned by everyone else.

He’d read some entries on the Bee Crystal Butterflies before and even knew which books mentioned them. But at the time, he hadn’t paid much attention to the details and didn’t remember them very clearly. This time, he planned to go back, make a quick reference, and get back to farming as soon as possible.

When he was younger, he often came here to cram basic knowledge. The Plum Garden mainly stored paper books, which were fragile and easily damaged, so combat-related spiritual power was prohibited here, and even loud noise or roughhousing wasn’t allowed.

The place was large, with shelves stacked in layers like a maze. It was easy to hide in here; it was practically Lin Qinghen’s secret treasure trove.

He hadn’t come in a while, as he’d been focused on practical tasks over the past few years. Now the Plum Garden was as quiet as ever. After sneaking in with his family badge, he quickly found the volumes he needed.

Books here couldn’t be taken out, so after finding them, he hid in a corner, planning to finish up fast and get back to work.

During the time he spent seriously reading, as he’d hoped, no one came to disturb him. Based on the records, he came up with a few ways to help those butterflies understand his intentions. He was just about to slip away and test them out one by one when he heard voices arguing at the back entrance.

“This Journey Through the Clouds Volume Two is fake! The Lin family’s Library Pavilion is storing a counterfeit book!”

“Say it properly. Don’t look at me like that. Get up and explain yourself!”

There was a small garden at the back entrance of the Plum Garden, where Scholar Mei, the old scholar who managed this place, would sometimes take a nap. He was an elderly man with a full white beard and an air of old-fashioned scholarship. He was one of the few people who treated Lin Qinghen equally, so they knew each other fairly well.

Now, Scholar Mei, whose hair and beard were frosty white, was being pestered by a young man. Scholar Mei, half-awake and drowsy from his nap, mumbled in a gruff, sleepy voice, “There aren’t any fake books in the Plum Garden.”

“No way,” the young man, a stranger to Lin Qinghen, retorted persistently. “A close look reveals plenty of things in here don’t match up with Volume One!”

“The books stored here aren’t fake.”

“You old man!”

Scholar Mei was clearly tired, his memory not what it used to be. As he struggled to find an answer, he noticed Lin Qinghen sneaking out by the wall.

“Qinghen! Qinghen!” Scholar Mei squinted, as if finding a lifeline, and called him over, “Come here, come here! Tell this ignorant kid whether there are any fake books in the Plum Garden!”

All Lin Qinghen wanted was to get back to his butterflies: …

He thought about running for it, but the young man had already spotted him and was coming over. Lin Qinghen couldn’t escape.

Fine. Scholar Mei had been pretty good to him over the years. It was only a matter of a few words, so he wasn’t about to make trouble. The sooner he spoke, the sooner he could leave.

“Elder Mei is getting on in years. Go easy on him,” Lin Qinghen said, stopping in his tracks. “Journey Through the Clouds Volume Two isn’t fake; it’s just incomplete.”

By now, the young man had come closer.

Lin Qinghen hadn’t seen clearly from afar, but up close, he realized this guy was very handsome, with a sharp air and a clear touch of pride. Instinctively, he glanced over his attire and other details, feeling somewhat resigned.

Just the other day, he’d said that of the “Three Mountains,” the only people he hadn’t met were those from Su Ye Immortal Mountain. And now, one had shown up.

The Lin family was really getting lively these days.

The book in question, Journey Through the Clouds, was rather niche, recording the author’s various encounters during his travels. Written more than three hundred years ago, it included stories, field observations of some spirit plants and beasts, and even documented family histories. Some of the ideas it proposed were actually quite interesting.

“This book is divided into two volumes. The first is widely circulated, but the second reportedly had issues during its transcription,” said Lin Qinghen, eager to wrap this up without inviting trouble from someone with a complex background. “The pages of Volume Two scattered, and the version in the Plum Garden is the most complete one available. The original content is from pages thirty-seven to one hundred and nine. The rest was added later for continuity, so it’s normal for some parts to differ from Volume One.”

After explaining, he was about to slip away, but the young man blocked him again.

“I know the second volume was corrupted during transcription. It’s precisely because of this issue that it’s hard to find. I came here specifically because I heard the Lin family had a copy. But how do you know which parts are original and which are added later? Are you just bluffing?”

This young man was a Spirit Master of considerable strength, practically a boulder blocking Lin Qinghen’s path. There was no way around.

“The original second volume of Journey Through the Clouds wasn’t entirely lost; it just got scattered. At that time, a small, chaotic publishing house bound the remaining parts with other books as part of a collection,” Lin Qinghen explained. “The missing content is in The Song Clan’s Grudges, Volume Three; Into the Snow, Chapters fifty through sixty-six; and the last quarter of Spirit Plants of White-Eyed Mountain.”

The writing style of Journey Through the Clouds’ author was distinctive, with a unique rhythm and idiomatic phrasing. By considering the context and route of his travels, it was fairly easy to identify the scattered parts.

These were all obscure books. Lin Qinghen had read them as light reading during his study sessions in his youth, finding them useful for learning about the whole continent. He’d stumbled upon this by chance and still remembered it.

The young man looked him up and down, asking, “You figured this out yourself?”

“Of course not,” Lin Qinghen replied, lowering his head, wanting nothing to do with the attention. “Scholar Mei told me. He might’ve forgotten, but I remembered a little.”

Thinking he could leave now, Lin Qinghen started to edge away, but the young man stopped him yet again.

“So, you’re a book attendant at the Plum Garden? You seem sharp, and I quite like you. I’ll ask Lin Qingshuang to let you come with me to Su Ye Immortal Mountain as a book boy. I’m…”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when a familiar, mocking voice rang out in the distance. It was Lin Fei.

“Brother Chu Wei, you’re mistaken. I don’t think he’s suited to be your book boy.”

A group of young people, all around the same age, approached from the front. Leading them was none other than Lin Qingshuang, accompanied by a few familiar faces, including Lin Fei.

Lin Qingshuang had earned a name for herself, drawing peers to her side during her training excursions.

These people were no ordinary crowd. The young man named Chu Wei blocking Lin Qinghen’s path had the most distinguished background of all, hailing from Su Ye Immortal Mountain with impressive talent and status.

Chu Wei wasn’t exactly courteous with Lin Qingshuang, either; he rarely held anyone in high regard, his interests hard to predict. And now, he was chatting with Lin Qinghen.

Chu Wei frowned, asking, “Why not?”

Lin Fei, ever the impulsive one, couldn’t stand the thought of Lin Qinghen possibly getting in with someone from Su Ye Immortal Mountain. So naturally, he chimed in.

“Lin Qinghen, tell him yourself. Does your spirit power qualify you for the Immortal Mountain? And that mask of yours, dare to take it off and scare people?”

Lin Qinghen: …

He sighed internally.

Honestly, all he’d wanted was to find a reference.