Green Mountain

Bailu Pavilion’s doors and windows were tightly closed, leaving the room in disarray.

The strong scent of Chinese medicine wafted through the air, as a ray of sunlight penetrated through the crack of the door, illuminating the floating dust particles.

Chen Ji looked down at the wooden box in his hands, where the ginseng was hastily stuffed together in a tangled mess, resembling worthless twine. Yet, the restless Ice Flow within his body confirmed that this ginseng was indeed the real deal.

He looked up at Jin Zhu, "Lord, do all cultivation paths require ginseng?"

"Not exactly," Jin Zhu explained patiently, "Half of the cultivation methods overseen by our Ritual Supervision don’t require ginseng, but the path that I’ve sought for you does."

Chen Ji closed the small wooden box and held it in his arms, asking indifferently, "Lord, how can you be certain that I can embark on the cultivation path? What if I lack the potential of an executive officer? Wouldn’t that waste all your effort?"

Jin Zhu let out a chuckle, "Meng Ji wrote in the secret report to the Prime Minister after his first interrogation of you, professing that you possess the potential of an executive officer and would require a Class A Dream. Set your mind at ease; you were born for this role."

Chen Ji was suddenly enlightened.

So, Jin Zhu had set his sights on him from that moment, no wonder after Yun Yang and Jiao Tu were thrown into prison, he had visited the Taiping Medical Hall at the first opportunity.

Just then, a spy pushed the door open, and the afternoon sunlight fiercely streamed into Bailu Pavilion.

Jin Zhu’s expression changed, "Are you looking for death, barging in at this time?"