The Archive Hall was quiet as usual.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, stretching long pale beams across the wooden floor. Dust drifted lazily in the air, undisturbed by movement.
Lin Mo stood beside a tall shelf near the back of the hall, slowly organizing a stack of old books that had been left on a nearby table.
Some were travel records.
Some were old philosophical texts.
Others were simply damaged volumes waiting to be repaired.
Most disciples would have considered such work tedious.
But Lin Mo moved patiently.
To him, every book held the possibility of something useful.
After finishing with the first stack, he picked up another worn volume.
The cover was faded and cracked with age.
The title read:
"Journey Through the Southern Ridges."
Lin Mo brushed a thin layer of dust from the cover and opened it.
Inside were handwritten notes, clearly recorded by a wandering cultivator many decades ago.
The writing was messy in places, as though the author had often written while traveling.
Lin Mo began reading.
"Day 12: Entered the Southern Ridges today. The mountains here are steep and difficult to cross. Spiritual energy in the air feels slightly denser than in the plains."
"Day 19: Encountered a small group of rogue cultivators. Avoided conflict."
"Day 27: Found a strange herb growing along a shaded cliff. Leaves shaped like narrow blades. Faint spiritual aura."
Lin Mo paused.
He leaned closer to the page.
The author had drawn a rough sketch beside the entry.
A thin plant with three narrow leaves.
Beneath the drawing, another note had been written.
"Local villagers call this plant Spirit Thread Grass."
"Spiritual energy within it is weak. Most cultivators ignore it."
"However, I noticed something interesting while resting near it."
Lin Mo's eyes narrowed slightly as he continued reading.
"When crushed and steeped in hot water, the herb produces a mild warmth in the chest."
"Effect is extremely faint, but it seems to stimulate the meridians."
"Perhaps useful for beginners."
The entry ended there.
Lin Mo sat quietly for a moment.
The description was vague.
Most cultivators probably would not care about such a weak herb.
But Lin Mo's thoughts moved in a different direction.
A faint warmth in the chest.
The words echoed in his mind.
Slowly, he closed the book and stood up.
His gaze drifted toward the desk at the center of the hall.
Beneath the desk, hidden in a small drawer, rested the black book.
Lin Mo hesitated for a moment before walking over.
He checked the door of the Archive Hall first.
Still closed.
No footsteps outside.
Satisfied, he returned to the desk and opened the hidden drawer.
The black book lay quietly inside its cloth wrapping.
Lin Mo unwrapped it carefully and opened the first page.
The blank paper remained still for a moment.
Then faint lines of ink slowly appeared.
"Observation creates connection."
Lin Mo remained silent.
Another sentence formed beneath the first.
"Spirit Thread Grass — a minor catalyst."
Lin Mo's eyes sharpened slightly.
More words appeared.
"When used correctly, it assists the opening of small meridian pathways."
The page slowly turned.
A diagram appeared.
It was the familiar map of hidden meridians within the body.
The First Path glowed faintly.
But beside it, another thin pathway flickered weakly.
Almost invisible.
A new sentence appeared beneath the diagram.
"The Second Path sleeps."
"Spirit Thread Grass may stir it."
Lin Mo closed the book slowly.
His mind remained calm, but his thoughts moved quickly.
The Southern Ridges mentioned in the journal were not far from the Azure Cloud Sect.
In fact, the mountain forests surrounding the sect were part of the same region.
Which meant…
The herb might grow somewhere nearby.
Lin Mo wrapped the black book again and returned it to the drawer.
Then he looked down at the travel journal still resting on the desk.
A faint breeze brushed against the windows.
Outside, distant sounds of disciples training drifted across the mountain.
Inside the quiet hall, Lin Mo tapped his finger lightly on the wooden table.
Most disciples searched for powerful cultivation manuals.
Rare techniques.
Secret arts.
But sometimes…
The smallest pieces of knowledge were the most valuable.
Lin Mo picked up the journal again and carefully copied the sketch of the herb onto a small piece of paper.
Three narrow leaves.
Thin stem.
Grows near shaded cliffs.
When he finished, he folded the paper and placed it inside his sleeve.
For now, he returned the journal to its shelf.
No one needed to know what he had discovered.
Lin Mo resumed his work in the library as though nothing had happened.
But somewhere in his thoughts, a quiet plan had begun forming.
Sooner or later…
He would need to leave the safety of the Archive Hall.
And search the mountains himself.