Chapter Twelve: Cultivating Mushrooms in the Grotto, Practicing Martial Arts by the Sea

The omnipotent fungal spores purchased from the Duolian-Duoyi trading platform may appear unremarkable, but they possess a high degree of technical sophistication.

According to the product specifications Lin Bo read in the listing, the research team had subjected these spores to countless rounds of genetic pruning and splicing, and infused them with magical forces, granting them infinite evolutionary potential.

In their current state, the spores are a blank slate, possessing only the most basic function: breaking down matter to acquire nutrients. Developing them into mushroom varieties with specific effects depends entirely on the cultivator’s technique.

Different growth environments, varied nutrient feeds, and diverse directional stimuli—any change in these variables will influence the final type and quality of the mushrooms.

Even the original research team does not know what these spores might become in the hands of a player. They could be cultivated as food, medicinal herbs, industrial raw materials, components for armor and weaponry, or even a sentient race of Myconids.

Due to this miraculous evolutionary capacity, the Duolian-Duoyi platform explicitly warns buyers that cultivation is not entirely risk-free. Improper handling could trigger malignant genetic traits, causing the fungal mats to spread uncontrollably and resulting in an irreversible ecological disaster.

East Cliff Grotto.

Lin Bo lit a whale-oil lamp, its pale blue flame casting a piercing light that illuminated the surroundings.

He had not ventured deep into the cave on his last visit. Now that he had decided to build a mushroom plantation, he needed to explore the area thoroughly to prevent his crops from being scavenged by mysterious animals.

The ground at the entrance was layered with bird droppings—some fresh, some desiccated over the years. It seemed the gulls from the nearby sea frequented this spot to rest.

Further in, the path sloped downward. The ground here was dry and free of droppings, and the ceiling gradually lowered, narrowing the space. The grotto was not large; its interior was roughly the size of an indoor basketball court, shaped like a horn—wide at the entrance and narrow at the back.

Lin Bo crouched to reach the deepest part. Raising his lamp, he spotted a narrow crevice, likely passable only by a child, from which a moist draft emerged.

"This is actually part of a cave network. Hmm, the breeze is damp; there is probably an underground river inside."

He examined the rock formations, noting the erosion at the cave mouth and the fine layer of silt deposited on the ground nearby. It appeared that when the underground river’s water level rose, it occasionally surged past the cave entrance.

The Sail Archipelago experienced an oceanic climate, humid year-round with relatively consistent monthly rainfall. However, annual hurricanes caused sudden spikes in precipitation, which likely accounted for the rising water levels.

"Fine. Even in a deluge, the water will stay at the base of the grotto and won't flood the upper levels."

Satisfied with his assessment, Lin Bo noted that the East Cliff Grotto was divided into three sections: the entrance, the atrium, and the depths. The atrium was spacious enough for a mushroom garden. He could build a small living space at the entrance and set up a training area to practice his skills. As for the depths, he decided he would eventually widen the path, connect to the underground river, and dig a reservoir. This would make water access convenient and eliminate concerns about the atrium flooding.

The first step in mushroom cultivation is preparing the substrate. As long as it provides nutrients and a suitable environment for spores, anything from rotten wood and cottonseed hulls to straw or manure will work.

Lin Bo had initially intended to gather wood from the forests south of Stone Tower Town, but the East Cliff Grotto offered a ready supply of bird guano.

The aged guano had already undergone natural fermentation and was an excellent fertilizer. Mixed with straw and sterilized to remove impurities, it would make a superb mushroom substrate.

However, obtaining straw was not easy.

Stone Tower Town’s agriculture was underdeveloped due to poor soil quality, producing only meager yields of rye, barley, and potatoes. Furthermore, all local farmland was aristocratic property; since tenant farmers couldn't turn a profit, they had left for the city to find work. Consequently, there were no farmers left in town. If he wanted straw, he would have to try his luck in the neighboring villages.

"Forget it." Lin Bo shook his head.

He consulted *Professor Myconid’s Fungal Agriculture* and found a simpler method for preparing a manure-based substrate: by sterilizing clean sand and silt at high temperatures and mixing it with fermented manure, he could satisfy the growth requirements of the primary spores.

It was remarkably easy, thanks to the inherent tenacity of the omnipotent spores.

Once the mycelium grew and spread into a fungal mat, the substrate would become secondary; at that point, they could survive on nothing more than scattered sawdust.

He collected sand from the bottom of the grotto, dried it in his cooking pot, spread it out to cool, and then mixed in several shovelfuls of aged guano from the entrance. After stirring the mixture and filling a wooden crate, he crushed the spore casing and sprinkled them evenly across the surface.

Lin Bo boiled a bit of water, cooled it, and moistened the substrate. The rest of the work was left to time.

He had plenty on his plate—training skills, studying knowledge—and time was never enough. Transforming the East Cliff Grotto into a proper camp was a massive undertaking, and he didn't expect to finish it in the short term. He could only establish a development plan.

The rubber dummy used for training stood on the ground. It spun in circles, riddled with wounds from the short spears and harpoons he repeatedly thrust into it. The dull thuds startled the birds; the gulls gathered on the reefs, squawking their dissatisfaction at Lin Bo.

When Lin Bo grew weary and sat cross-legged on the terrace to meditate, the gulls—having reclaimed their resting spot—would fly over and land on the scarred target. They hopped around the mage, some bold enough to land on his shoulders or dive into his trench coat pockets to steal bread.

Three hours later, Lin Bo opened his eyes. The gulls scattered, looking guilty. He checked his pocket; his dried bread was already full of holes.

The mage didn't get angry. He laughed, broke the bread in half—keeping one portion for himself—and crumbled the rest for the birds.

"I’ll bring more bread next time as rent. When my mushrooms are ready, I'll treat you all to some too." Lin Bo spoke to the flock in earnest, though they only replied with "caws," neither side understanding the other.

By evening, Lin Bo finished his training and returned to the lighthouse. Even if the grotto camp remained unguarded, there was no need to fear theft. It was impossible for any living person to brave the dangers of the journey just to steal a crate of guano-soil—and as for the gulls? As far as Lin Bo knew, they generally didn't eat their own waste.

Once the camp took shape and the mushroom garden expanded, he could consider installing some defenses.

The long night was perfect for reading.

Between the massive collection of mechanical theory provided by his friends from the Omniverse Network, the thick volume of *The Pharmacist’s Great Compendium*, the hefty *Myconid Agriculture*, and the ever-refreshing *Frost-Sky Style*, Lin Bo had a packed night of self-study.

Every four hours, he took a break to wind the lens rotation device. To him, the night was his day; he ate three meals during this time. During the day, he practiced his Mantra Mastery and meditation, which required four or five extra meals to sustain his energy—totaling eight meals a day.

The lighthouse cellar's food supply was already bottoming out.

Early the next morning, shortly after sunrise, Lin Bo visited the town bakery. He wasn't the first customer; the wives of laborers had already been waiting since before dawn for the first batch of bread.

*Jingle-ling—* The copper bell behind the door rang.

"Watchman, I hope you have a good appetite." The bakery's owner and head baker was a stout, elderly woman who had been an old acquaintance of the previous watchman.

The female customers in the bakery cast sidelong glances at Lin Bo, listening intently to his conversation with the baker.

"Good morning, Mrs. Morr." Lin Bo pulled out paper currency and bought twenty kilograms of dried bread in one go. It was highly shelf-stable, and everyone bought it in bulk regularly.

After he left, the women of Stone Tower Town began to gossip about the outsider’s origins. The baker was a notorious busybody, and she eagerly joined the conversation. If Stone Tower Town had a hub for intelligence, it was undoubtedly the bakery. Within ten minutes, they had compiled everything known about Lin Bo.

"His clothes look quite nice; they suit his face well," a textile worker remarked with a faint blush.

"His boots are good, too," the shoe factory worker added.

"Old Tim was a frugal man before he passed. This newcomer, though... he acts completely differently. A young man dressing so smartly—what could he be planning?"

The women laughed. "Keep an eye on your daughters. Don't let them be enchanted by that outsider when they go to worship the Benevolent Mother at the church."

"No need for that; the new watchman never goes to church."

Today was Sunday, and even the most heartless factories granted a half-day holiday for workers to worship the Five Gods. When the women returned home to collect their husbands and children for church, they saw that familiar stranger again.

"Hey, isn't that the watchman?" the idle residents of Stone Tower Town whispered in their pews.

The old priest walked to the pulpit. Instead of reading the liturgy immediately, he invited Lin Bo to step forward, happily announcing to the townsfolk that the Five Gods sect had gained a new brother in faith.

Lin Bo waved to them. "As you can see, I was saved from the aftermath of a shipwreck by Tim, a believer of the Five Gods. Since then, I have been alone, inheriting the duty of guarding the lighthouse.

"Now, I follow the Elder, one of the Five Gods, and I stand under the same sky and upon the same earth as all of you, my brothers and sisters in faith. If any of you require my help, I will do my utmost. As long as I remain at the lighthouse, I will always illuminate the path home for those of you who sail."

The women offered appreciative applause, their children following suit. The sailors locked eyes with a scarred man in the crowd; seeing him nod in approval, they too began to cheer.

From that day on, Lin Bo was considered a part of Stone Tower Town, integrated into the local social circle as a believer.

The local thugs and hooligans would no longer target him lightly. Stealing from or harming an outsider was one thing, but harming a fellow believer was inviting trouble.

From then on, Lin Bo attended collective worship every Sunday. As a follower of the Elder, he also had a church gathering on Thursdays. These small circles formed by shared belief fostered closer relationships among the congregation.

Returning to the lighthouse from the church, Lin Bo logged into the chat channel.

[Lighthouse Guest]: My challenge attempts have refreshed.

[Nightingale]: Been waiting for you. Get online!