Chapter 41: The Hundred-Fruit Tree

The next day was Saturday, and with no classes at the university, Jiang Feng headed to the house Ma Lianhao had rented for him. 

Early that morning, Ma Lianhao had called to say the renovations were complete and invited Jiang Feng to inspect the place and see if anything else needed to be purchased. Though Jiang Feng wasn’t particularly particular about his living conditions, since he might be staying there for a while, he decided to take a look.  

Jiang Feng took a taxi to the courtyard entrance. 

As soon as he stepped out, he saw Ma Lianhao directing a few workers carrying a massive bed inside.  

The sight of the bed left Jiang Feng speechless. ‘What’s the point of buying such a huge bed?’ He frowned and asked, “Ma Lianhao, what are you doing?”  

“Moving the bed, obviously!” Ma Lianhao grinned at him, waggling his eyebrows.  

Jiang Feng sighed. “Did you really need to get one ‘this’ big?”  

The bed was easily over two meters wide—unusually large, enough to comfortably fit three or four people without any crowding. While a spacious bed was nice, this one was downright excessive.  

Ma Lianhao smirked suggestively. “Comfort, my friend! Pure comfort. Try lying on it later—I guarantee you won’t want to get up.”  

Jiang Feng immediately understood what was going through Ma Lianhao’s mind. The guy hadn’t asked why Jiang Feng wanted to rent this place and had clearly jumped to his own conclusions—probably assuming Jiang Feng intended to “keep a beauty” here. Hence, the ridiculously oversized bed.  

He shot Ma Lianhao an exasperated look but didn’t bother explaining further. “Let’s go inside.”  

In just a few days, the small courtyard had undergone a dramatic transformation. It was clear Ma Lianhao had put in considerable effort.  

Jiang Feng had initially worried that Ma Lianhao might completely overhaul the place, but now, he was relieved to see that his taste wasn’t bad. The original charm of the old house had been preserved, with only the worn-out sections renovated. Even the brick flooring had been redone using deliberately weathered-looking bricks.  

The overgrown weeds in the courtyard had been cleared, replaced with evergreen plants that added a serene, verdant atmosphere. Standing in the yard under the summer sun no longer felt harsh on the eyes.  

Jiang Feng nodded in approval and stepped inside to inspect the rooms. The changes were minimal—walls repainted, some interior walls removed, old furniture replaced with new pieces, and the floors refurbished with plush wool carpets. The furnishings and decor were tasteful, at least ensuring nothing felt uncomfortable.  

The only eyesore was the enormous bed in the master bedroom, occupying nearly a third of the space. Any guest who saw it would undoubtedly get the wrong idea. Jiang Feng considered telling Ma Lianhao to remove it but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he headed to the backyard.  

Noticing his silence, Ma Lianhao grew anxious and hurried after him. “Young Master Jiang, is it good or not? At least say something!”  

“It’s fine,” Jiang Feng replied.  

“’Just’ fine?” Ma Lianhao sounded doubtful.  

Since Jiang Feng hadn’t given any specific instructions, Ma Lianhao had gone all out in decorating the courtyard. He had consulted several experts, reviewed multiple design proposals, and finally settled on the current one.  

Still, despite the hefty expenses, Ma Lianhao had been uneasy. He had visited Jiang Feng’s villa in the Jiang family estate before—a gaudy, gold-plated monstrosity that practically blinded anyone who looked at it.  

While Ma Lianhao couldn’t appreciate that kind of taste, he knew Jiang Feng had a preference for extravagance. So this time, he had taken the initiative to go for a classical, understated style, hoping to offer something different.  

“It’s good,” Jiang Feng said. “Just that bed is a bit much.”  

Ma Lianhao finally relaxed and chuckled knowingly. “Got it, got it.”  

Jiang Feng nearly kicked him out right then. He turned and walked into the backyard, which, unlike the meticulously arranged front yard, was overgrown with weeds. 

A crooked tree stood in the center, an eyesore in the otherwise tidy space.  

Jiang Feng’s brow furrowed. ‘Just when I thought things were fine, he pulls this.’ Annoyed, he asked, “What’s going on here?”  

Ma Lianhao quickly replied, “If the crooked tree bothers you, I’ll have someone chop it down right away.”  

Jiang Feng didn’t answer. Something felt off about this place. The backyard covered over ten square meters, completely overtaken by unnaturally lush weeds. Yet the crooked tree looked stunted, twisted, and malnourished.  

If the soil here was fertile enough to support such rampant weed growth, the tree shouldn’t have ended up like this.  

‘Something’s wrong. Really wrong.’ Jiang Feng scrutinized the area but couldn’t pinpoint the issue.  

Ma Lianhao, trailing behind him, asked, “Young Master, do you think this place is a bit… strange?”  

Jiang Feng nodded.  

Ma Lianhao continued, “I thought the same when I first saw it. It’s bizarre—how can the weeds grow so thick and fast? It’s like they’re on steroids. When I asked the landlord, he said nothing planted here thrives except weeds. He once tried growing vegetables, but within a week, the weeds choked them out. No matter how often he weeded, the grass grew back faster. Eventually, he just gave up and let the place go wild.”

Jiang Feng’s gaze settled on the tree as he asked, “What’s the story with that tree?”  

Ma Lianhao gave a wry smile. “I asked the landlord about it, but even he couldn’t give a clear explanation. He said this courtyard was passed down from his ancestors. The rooms have been renovated over the years, but that tree was never touched—apparently, there’s some ancestral rule forbidding anyone from cutting it down. As for the exact reason, it’s been so long that no one remembers.”  

After a pause, Ma Lianhao added, “The landlord also mentioned that the tree isn’t some rare species. They had experts examine it, and it’s just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill tree—not worth much, so they left it there.”  

Then, as if remembering something, Ma Lianhao quickly continued, “Oh, right! The landlord said this crooked-neck tree blooms in a bizarre cycle—once every ten years—but it never bears fruit. He lived here for decades and never once saw it produce anything. Strange, don’t you think?”  

‘A tree that blooms every decade but never fruits?’  

Jiang Feng grew increasingly uneasy. He strode toward the crooked tree and examined it up close. The oval-shaped leaves were an unusually vibrant green but otherwise unremarkable. He plucked one, held it in his palm, studied it, then sniffed it—and his expression abruptly changed.  

“Hundred-Fruit Tree!” he blurted out.  (G: Bai Guo Tree.)

“What tree?” Ma Lianhao didn’t catch it clearly.  

Jiang Feng shook his head, not answering. But inwardly, he was stunned.  

‘A Hundred-Fruit Tree… So this is a Hundred-Fruit Tree!’ No wonder the weeds in the courtyard grew so wildly—it was all because of this tree.  

Come to think of it, when he first came to see the place, he’d noticed how overgrown the front yard was. He’d assumed it was due to neglect, but now the truth was clear. And if his guess was right, all plants within a kilometer radius of this tree would thrive unnaturally.  

The name “Bai Guo” (白果) didn’t refer to white fruit—the “Bai” (白) was a homophone for “hundred” (百), making its true name “Hundred-Fruit Tree.”  

Also known as the Hundred-Spirit Tree, it bloomed once every ten years, completing a full cycle over a century before finally bearing fruit. That was why the landlord, having lived here for decades, had never seen it fruit—but his ancestors must have. Hence, the rule to never cut it down.  

Before this, Jiang Feng had only seen such a tree once—in a sacred land of Tianyuan Continent. There, nourished by a spiritual spring, it grew lush and towering, a far cry from this scrawny, crooked-neck specimen. No wonder he hadn’t recognized it at first.  

He never expected Earth to have this plant. The tree’s growth conditions were extremely demanding—transplanting it usually led to quick death from environmental mismatch. In his memory, neither Yanjing’s climate nor soil suited the Hundred-Fruit Tree. Yet here it was. The sheer improbability left him reeling.  

Because if Earth could sustain a Hundred-Fruit Tree… did that mean, under certain conditions, cultivation was possible here too? That there might be hidden spiritual sanctuaries he simply hadn’t discovered yet?  

But if he hadn’t found them, others might have. After all, Earth had texts like the ‘The Classic of the Way’, the ‘Book of Changes’, and the ‘Classic of Mountains and Seas’—works so profound they’d be considered extraordinary even in the cultivation world. There were likely many secrets still beyond his knowledge.  

With this in mind, Jiang Feng pressed for more details about the tree. 

Ma Lianhao, puzzled but obliging, shared everything he knew.  

Listening, Jiang Feng couldn’t help but feel regret. If only he could trace the tree’s origin—it might lead to an incredible opportunity, even a breakthrough in his cultivation. But for now, he could only gaze at the tree, thirsting for answers it wouldn’t give.  

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