Beneath the stone wall, the vine's root system was incredibly developed. It snaked through the subterranean black earth, stretching as far as a thousand zhang. Its fine rootlets were embedded deep within the black earth, and from the way they were spread out, they seemed to be absorbing something from it.
To Fang Qingyuan's delight, after he painstakingly pushed his Divine Sense deep into the black earth and completely enveloped the vine's root system, he sensed a faint flicker of life from a particularly thick section of the roots.
Evidently, the vine was not completely dead. Even though the main body above the roots had entirely withered, the tendrils buried deep in the black earth had maintained a dormant spark of life, even after ten thousand years.
This was characteristic of vine-type plants: the main body might be lifeless, but it would leave behind a spark of vitality, waiting for the right moment to sprout once more.
