The eccentric old man

"Don't worry, Mr. Shen Shi, we will ensure that fairness is upheld above all else," Yang Qing said with a faint smile. Shen Shi cupped his fists in acknowledgment.

"Before I make my ruling—Zheng Hu, would you please?" Yang Qing asked, extending his open palms to receive something from Zheng Hu. Zheng Hu happily obliged, retrieving a square-shaped block of wood with rough, jagged edges, as if it had been forcibly snapped. The wood had an orange-red hue, reminiscent of the sun during sunset.

The Shen brothers' pupils constricted the moment they saw it, though they quickly regained their composure a second later.

Yang Qing fiddled with the block of wood, nodding to himself a few times as his gaze flickered thoughtfully. The calm, soothing sensation it exuded—like cool, gentle water bringing tranquility to its surroundings—already confirmed its identity as earthvine wood. It was one of the few trees known for its mild and gentle nature, possessing soothing properties that could even ease the soul.

"With this, I should have everything I need to make my judgment," Yang Qing said, setting the block of earthvine wood aside before interlocking his fingers.

"The earthvine wood may not be the sturdiest plant out there, but I agree—it should be able to withstand attacks from an early-stage core formation expert."

The moment those words left his mouth, the Shen brothers' faces lit up with glee. Smug satisfaction crept into their expressions as if the case had already been decided in their favor.

"However, due to its special mild and gentle nature, there are a few objects that can negatively affect it—rendering it no different from common wood," Yang Qing continued, his tone steady. "I found a trace of one of those substances in this piece here."

He held up the square-shaped block of wood. "This is one of the pieces from the table you broke."

Yang Qing tapped his fingers lightly against the wood before setting it down. "First things first, I want to declare unequivocally that this is real earthvine wood. Based on its quality, it was likely procured from an earthvine tree that's at least 20,000 years old, making its potency enough to affect anyone up to the peak of the core formation realm."

He paused, then added with a thoughtful hum, "As for the price… well, it's better to let a specialist explain that. Zheng Hu, could you call in Chief Song Chuanli? Hopefully, he isn't in a sour mood from being torn away from his contraptions," Yang Qing said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

Zheng Hu gave a quick nod and rushed outside. Moments later, he returned, leading a short old man into the courtroom.

The newcomer had snow-white hair and a long beard that reached his chest. He wore a white robe covered in sawdust—but not just any ordinary sawdust. Some of the particles flickered faintly with purple lightning, while others glowed gold. A few even shifted through a rainbow of colors, changing every millisecond.

With his hands clasped behind his back, the old man strode forward with firm, deliberate steps. His expression was stern, his eyes filled with a mix of impatience and irritation. It looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"I'm sorry, Chief Song, for interrupting your busy schedule, but I need your expertise on something. You're one of the best in this field," Yang Qing said as he stood up, cupping his fists with an apologetic smile.

Mao Yunru, Yi Jie, and Zheng Hu also respectfully cupped their fists in greeting, drawing curious looks from the Shen brothers and even Zhong Quan. They couldn't help but wonder what kind of bigshot this old man was to warrant such deference from a judge and inquisitors. A brief glance told them he was merely at the late stages of the Core Formation realm—hardly a powerhouse by their standards.

They couldn't understand why Yang Qing and the others showed such respect to an old geezer who looked like he might keel over at any moment, especially the Shen brothers. In their world—and the world of most cultivators—strength was the only thing that commanded respect.

Mmph, typical of sheltered cultivators, Shen Tian thought with contempt, scoffing internally as he observed Yang Qing and the others.

"You'd better set aside some funds from your discretionary budget for this, Yang Qing," Chief Song Chuanli grumbled. "Tearing me away from my work—do you have any idea how rare the materials we got this time are? If I leave for too long, those old geezers will swipe a few more samples for themselves and leave me with nothing! So hurry up! What is it you need from me?"

"Hehehe, I'm in your debt, Chief Song," Yang Qing said with a light chuckle. "As for the funds, you'll have to wait until after my ceremony—I'll compensate you properly then. In the meantime, I called you in for this."

With that, Yang Qing tossed over the block of earthvine wood.

Despite looking like he might topple over from any sudden movement, Chief Song caught it effortlessly with his right hand, while his left remained tucked behind his back.

"Mmh… an earthvine wood taken from an earthvine tree that's 23,900 years old," Chief Song muttered, bringing the block to his nose. He took a gentle sniff, closing his eyes in thought.

"The craftsmanship used to harvest it was subpar—only about 70% of its original value was retained."

He paused briefly before continuing, "From the time it was harvested, refined, and subsequently used… 27—no, 29 years have passed."

Zhong Quan's eyes widened in shock. Chief Song had pinpointed every detail with absolute precision, despite Zhong Quan never having mentioned any of it.

But what came next left him even more stunned.

Without hesitation, Chief Song took a bite out of the wood, as if it were a piece of bread. His once-serene expression instantly darkened. He spat the wood out with a look of disgust, his frosty glare filled with rage.

"Which idiot snuck pollen from the Grey Phantom Deadnettle into this?! That stuff destroys the very essence of earthvine wood!" He spat a few more times, his face twisting in revulsion. "No wonder it smelled foul and tasted even worse!"

With clear disdain, he tossed the block back like it was a piece of worthless trash.

"Can you tell how much efficacy the wood retained after those 29 years, Chief Song? Or has it degraded too much for you to gauge?" Yang Qing asked, carefully putting the block away while subtly evaporating the lingering saliva from his palm.

Chief Song shot him a sidelong glance. "Who do you think you're talking to? Before you even grew those greedy teeth of yours, how many precious types of wood do you think passed through my hands? The efficacy is at 43%."

"Is that all? If so, I'm leaving." Chief Song had already turned to go.

"Wait, Chief Song! There are still a few more things." Yang Qing quickly interjected, his gaze pleading for the old man's patience.

Chief Song let out an irritated snort but stopped, albeit begrudgingly.

"Zhong Quan, what were the dimensions of your table?" Yang Qing asked hurriedly.

"The table was a six-seater, 40 inches wide and 72 inches long," Zhong Quan answered without the slightest hesitation.

"Chief Song, can you give me an estimate of how much timber would be needed to make a table of that size? And based on the wood's current efficacy, what would its selling price be? That's the last question," Yang Qing asked.

"To craft a table like that from earthvine timber, a conservative estimate would be around 50 boards. A single log from an earthvine tree that's 23,000 years old would typically sell for 600 high-grade spirit stones, and one log yields about 400 boards of timber, give or take.

If we convert the value to mid-grade spirit stones, the 50 boards would normally go for 75,000—assuming the wood was processed with at least 90% efficacy retained. But whoever handled this did a shoddy job, retaining only 70%—and that's me being generous. That alone drops the price to 50,000 spirit stones. When you factor in the passage of time and its current efficacy level, its worth would be slashed by half. So, realistically, it would be valued around 20,000–25,000 mid-grade spirit stones. That said, most shops wouldn't go lower than 20,000, even at 43% efficacy."

He waved his hand dismissively. "I hope that's all, because I'm leaving. Those idiots better have left me some of the sun-peak cherry wood, at least. If they went too far, this old man will have to settle some scores," Chief Song grumbled, muttering like a warrior marching into battle. He didn't even register Yang Qing's words of gratitude as he stormed off.

Just as he reached the door, he suddenly paused.

"Before I forget—Yang Qing, make sure you come help me on my farm when you have time." Then his gaze shifted to Yi Jie. "Yi Jie, you come too. That way, this kid will actually do something instead of just eating all my fruit. And bring that snow plum blossom wine of yours—I finished the last vat you made me. You can harvest a few things from the farm as payment," Chief Song added before shutting the door behind him.

Yang Qing could only smile bitterly at Chief Song's antics. He had always been this way—erratic and passionate when it came to craftsmanship. As one of the craftsmen responsible for retrofitting the furniture used in the lower and upper core courts, as well as several superior core courts at the main headquarters, his work extended to personal offices and numerous other projects across the Order.

When it came to botany, processing, and craftsmanship, his skills were unrivaled, capable of matching even those in the domain stage. The breadth of his knowledge was so vast that he could spend decades writing books and still barely scratch the surface of what he knew. He was also one of the institute's trainers, having devised numerous techniques for handling various plants—techniques so valued that even the Order's alchemists held them in high regard. Over his years as a craftsman, he had even created a few gold-grade techniques.

Yes, he was only a core formation expert, but the only reason for that was his eccentric workaholic nature. He had postponed breaking through to the palace stage for the past 120 years, claiming he was too busy to waste time on cultivation. The time required to break through and solidify his foundation, he argued, could be better spent crafting furniture and honing his skills. He always said he would consider breaking through when he felt like taking a break—but for 120 years, that moment never came, leaving him stuck at the peak of the core formation realm, never taking the next step forward.

Yet despite remaining at that stage, his understanding of his dao path ran deeper than even Yang Qing's. Before Yang Qing had broken through to the palace realm, Lei Weiyuan once told him that when Chief Song finally decided to advance, it wouldn't be surprising if he reached the peak of the palace realm in a single day—or even touched the cusp of the domain realm. His foundation was just that deep and unshakable.

Now that Yang Qing had stepped into the palace realm himself, he could see why Lei Weiyuan had said that. Interacting with Chief Song, he could feel it—his presence was like an ancient tree whose vast canopy stretched over an entire kingdom, filled with the wisdom and resilience of countless eras. There was a density and profoundness to him that Yang Qing knew he had yet to reach.