Blossoming Path

I trudged up the path to Elder Ming’s house, the first rays of sunlight just beginning to peek over the horizon. My legs felt like they were made of lead, and my eyes… well, if I had to guess, they probably looked as tired as I felt.

But I didn’t care.

Every single batch of herbs in my garden had at least one or two miscolored hybrids. Now, even as exhaustion gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, the thrill of my discoveries kept me going.

As I approached, I spotted Elder Ming already seated in the courtyard, a small cup of tea in his hands. He glanced up as I neared, his sharp eyes immediately noticing my disheveled appearance. One eyebrow raised, just enough to let me know he saw right through me.

"Kai," he said, his voice calm but tinged with mild curiosity. "You're early. Did you even get any sleep?"

I let out a breathless laugh, dropping onto the nearest seat without so much as a greeting. "I didn’t sleep," I admitted, grinning like an idiot. "I’ve been up all night. You won’t believe what I figured out!"

Elder Ming sipped his tea, clearly amused by my state. He silently poured me another cup, and I gingerly accepted it, letting the warmth envelop my cold fingertips.

I could hardly sit still as I recounted my accidental discovery with Li Wei yesterday, dropping a ball of extracted mint essence onto one of my plants. How it absorbed into the astralagus, infusing itself with the essence.

Elder Ming’s eyebrow raised slightly higher, but he said nothing, just gestured for me to continue. He was used to my ramblings by now.

"So I started small," I went on, my words tumbling over each other in my excitement. "I took some dried ginger, infused its essence into Morning Dew grass, and created another hybrid! I've been trying it with all the different plants in my garden."

The older man set his tea down gently, his expression unreadable but I could tell he was intrigued. "You can create a hybrid plant by infusing the essence of another into it?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of curiosity. "And it survived the process?"

I nodded vigorously. "Not just survived—it thrived! The mint essence didn't just mix with the astragalus; it changed it! I tested the plant afterward and discovered that it now has the potential to treat both internal injuries and minor poisons. Normally, astragalus wouldn’t be nearly as effective in that category. And get this—it grows faster too! After adding a second ball of mint essence, it reached full maturity right then and there!"

For the first time, a flicker of something like pride crossed Elder Ming’s face. "Impressive."

"And that’s not all," I added quickly, barely able to contain myself. "I’ve got big theories. What if I did this with rarer herbs? Or, or… what if I infused multiple essences into one plant? I could create entirely new species, Elder Ming! This could revolutionize how we cultivate! Think of the potions, the salves, the elixirs!"

I knew I was babbling now, but I couldn’t stop. My mind had been racing all night, and now that I had someone to talk to, it all just spilled out.

Elder Ming, to his credit, didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smirk. He just watched me with that calm, wise expression of his, his hands folded in his lap. But I could see it—the glint of pride in his eyes, the way his lips curved ever so slightly.

“This discovery could indeed be groundbreaking… if handled properly. But you must be cautious. Such experimentation, while innovative, is also unpredictable. The balance of nature is delicate, you know.”

I nodded, but my mind was already racing to the next idea. “Right, right. I’ll be careful. But this could open doors we didn’t even know existed!”

Elder Ming smiled softly, but his gaze drifted past me, settling on the horizon where the first light of dawn was spreading across the sky. His usual calm demeanor seemed slightly distant, as if his thoughts were far away, lost in some deeper reflection.

I sipped my tea, the warmth of it starting to calm the buzzing in my mind. But something about his expression gnawed at me. Was he unhappy with what I was doing? Did he think I was getting too reckless?

"Is... something bothering you?" I asked carefully, unsure if I had overstepped. "You don’t seem too thrilled about this."

His eyes softened, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked down at his tea, swirling it lightly in the cup before letting out a quiet sigh. "It’s not your discoveries, Kai," he finally said. "In fact, I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. But there’s something else. Something in the air these days…"

"What do you mean?"

"So much has changed in the past year, after decades of normalcy. The Heavenly Interface suddenly appeared, the sects rising in power, strange events occurring all over the province… It’s as if the world itself is shifting. And not just gradually, but rapidly. Like we’re all being pulled toward something.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on me. I remembered my conversation with Han Wei and Li Na before I left. Things had been moving fast—too fast. My thoughts drifted to the Silent Moon Sect, how they’d grown so powerful so quickly, how the Heavenly Interface had brought a new kind of pressure on everyone, and how everything seemed to be racing toward an unknown end.

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“One falling leaf heralds autumn for the whole world,” Elder Ming said quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Finally, he broke the silence. “You’ve done well, Kai. And you’ll need to keep doing well, because the world we’re in now… it’s not the same one you grew up in. It’s changing faster than any of us can keep up with. But change brings opportunity too.”

I looked at him, nodding slowly. The excitement I’d felt earlier still lingered, but it was tempered now, wrapped in a strange sense of foreboding.

“I understand,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him.

The tension hanging in the air was starting to gnaw at me. I needed to change the subject before I got swallowed by it.

“Well, since I’m already here, how about we get started on training early?” I asked, forcing a grin onto my face. “No point in sitting around when we could be working on my ‘roots', right?”

Elder Ming’s eyes twinkled at my attempt to lighten the mood. “Ah, so you’re eager to torture yourself, I see,” he said, setting down his cup and standing. “Very well. Let’s begin.”

We started with the basics; horse stance, balancing rocks, the familiar drills that always seemed deceptively simple until you were halfway through and your legs were screaming in protest. And as usual, without using my qi. Even with the exhaustion gnawing at me, I pushed through, determined not to let the lack of sleep slow me down. My mind kept wandering back to Elder Ming’s words, but I channeled that unease into my movements, keeping my focus sharp.

As the morning progressed, we moved on to practicing basic forms. I could feel my body resisting, the weight of the sleepless night pulling at my limbs, but I gritted my teeth and kept going. There was no way I was going to let fatigue stop me. How could I call myself the rising star of the Tranquil Breeze Province otherwise?

Elder Ming watched me with his usual calm, occasionally offering corrections, but mostly letting me push myself. It was only when we moved on to sparring that the real challenge began.

“Let’s see how far you’ve come,” he said, taking up his stance.

I nodded, positioning myself across from him. Despite his injury, Elder Ming moved with the fluidity of someone who had spent a lifetime mastering his body. I had never truly seen him fight at his peak, but even now, with his dantian destroyed, his movements were precise, every strike calculated.

We began slowly, trading blows and testing each other’s reflexes. But soon enough, I felt the familiar heat of competition rising within me. I pushed harder, quicker, my strikes aimed with more precision. To my surprise, Elder Ming’s defenses held, parrying and dodging with ease.

Then, I saw my opening.

As he shifted his weight for another strike, I dropped my guard and allowed his fist to hit. I redirected his momentum, using the force of his attack to fuel my own counterstrike.

BAMBOO REPRISAL COUNTER!

My fist shot forward, aimed straight for his chest, but at the last second, I held back, stopping just short of making contact.

Elder Ming’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, I caught a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a small, approving smile.

“Lucky strike, I guess." I said sheepishly.

He shook his head, his smile widening. “Luck has nothing to do with it. You’ve come far.”

Before I could respond, the weight of the sleepless night finally caught up with me. My legs gave out from under me, and I felt the world tilt as I collapsed toward the ground. Before I hit the dirt, Elder Ming’s hand shot out, catching me by the arm and pulling me back up to my feet.

“You’ve pushed yourself too hard,” he chided, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “You can’t just stay up all night and expect to be invincible by morning.”

I let out a tired laugh, leaning heavily on him for support. “I blame you. You’re the one who makes me do all these ridiculous exercises every day.”

“Ridiculous exercises that are clearly working,” Elder Ming countered, raising an eyebrow. “And I didn’t tell you to stay up all night playing with plants.”

We both chuckled, the tension from earlier easing into something more comfortable. For a moment, it felt like everything was back to normal, like the world wasn’t changing so fast, and all that mattered was the familiar routine of training and teasing each other.

“You’re a slave driver,” I muttered, a grin tugging at my lips.

“And you’re stubborn,” he responded simply, giving a light chop to my head before guiding me to the edge of the courtyard.

We sat in silence for a moment, letting the quiet of the early morning settle over us. The world may have been changing around us, but for now, at least, this felt like a rare moment of peace.

As I sipped the last of my tea, I heard the faint sound of Lan-Yin and Wang Jun’s voices echoing from the village path. They’d be here soon. But before they arrived, I glanced at Elder Ming again, noticing the quiet stillness in his gaze. He was staring off toward the horizon, his expression distant, as though his thoughts were far away.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. But then, with the faintest hesitation, I spoke.

“I get it, you know,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “The world’s changing fast, and it’s unsettling. It feels like we’re standing on the edge of something big.”

He didn’t move, but I could tell he was listening, his eyes still focused on the rising sun. I set my tea down, leaning forward a bit. “But I’ve been thinking,” I continued, “about the village, the way everyone looks out for each other. We've all built something strong here, something that can weather change. And knowing we have each other... it makes all of this easier to face.”

His gaze shifted ever so slightly toward me, and I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I wasn’t used to being the one offering reassurance, but it felt right. I’d always looked up to Elder Ming; his wisdom, his strength, but even he wasn’t immune to anxiety.

“Master Qiang, Lan-Yin, Wang Jun, even Li Wei… everyone’s doing their part, lifting each other up. It’s hard to feel like we’re alone in all this when there’s so much strength in the people around us.”

He was quiet for a moment, the early morning light casting long shadows across the courtyard. Then he finally spoke, his voice softer than usual. “Yes... we face it together.”

Before I could say anything more, the familiar sound of Lan-Yin’s teasing voice broke the quiet.

“Well, look at this!” she called out as she and Wang Jun entered the courtyard. “Kai’s early for once. What did I miss? Has the world turned upside down?”

Wang Jun wasn’t far behind, smirking as he took in the sight of me slouched over, visibly exhausted. “Did Elder Ming wear you out before we even got here? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I straightened up, trying to muster some dignity despite the dark circles under my eyes. “I came early, so I get to leave early, right, Elder Ming?”

Elder Ming, ever the picture of calm, raised an eyebrow, feigning thoughtfulness. “Leave early? Not so fast. One more exercise before you’re free to go.”

I groaned, throwing my head back dramatically. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

I hobbled away from Elder Ming’s courtyard, cradling my bruised stomach and wincing with every step. Each inhale felt like I was sucking in a bunch of angry bees, thanks to Lan-Yin’s ‘payback’ punches. Wang Jun, mercifully, had gone easy on me, but she had been waiting for that moment.

Every step felt like a reminder of just how ruthless my friends could be when given an excuse.

The morning was still young, and the village was beginning to stir. I waved at some of the early risers with my free hand, trying to maintain my composure, but internally I was already scheming to beg Tianyi for some healing the moment I got back.

“Good morning, Kai!” Xiao Bao called cheerfully.

I waved back, trying not to grimace. “Morning.”

I trudged along, every muscle in my torso screaming for relief. There was no way I could keep this up on sheer willpower alone.

Despite the complaints running through my head, there was a strange sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside me. I had survived the training—barely—and pushed through my exhaustion. And, of course, I couldn’t let them know how much it actually hurt.

As I neared my shop, thinking longingly about collapsing onto a soft surface and possibly never moving again, a familiar sensation washed over me—a soft chime echoed in the back of my mind.

Quest: Mastery of Spiritual Plant Cultivation

- Cultivate and grow fifty viable and different plant hybrids. (0/50)

I stopped dead in my tracks, blinking. My head snapped up, all thoughts of rest evaporating as I tried to make sense of the notification. A quest? Now?

I glanced around, half-expecting something to leap out of the bushes, but the village looked as calm as ever. Still, a quest couldn’t be ignored, especially with the weight of recent changes lingering over everything.

“Well,” I sighed, straightening up as best as I could despite my aching body, “I guess rest will have to wait.”