The old Yao continued applying the paste to Long Tian's wound, his hands firm but quick. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at him intently.
"Wait…" he said in a serious tone. "This… doesn't look like a wound made by a beast."
Long Tian frowned, hesitating for a moment. He didn't want to raise any suspicion, didn't want to talk about what had really happened. However, he had to provide some kind of explanation.
"I'm not sure what happened," he replied cautiously. "I suddenly woke up in a tomb, high up on a mountain. I don't remember anything before that. All I know is that… there were… some sort of undead creatures. Zombies, I guess. That's all I can tell you."
The herbalist stared at him for a long moment, watching the discomfort in his face. He didn't say anything, but his gaze hardened for a moment, as if he suspected Long Tian was hiding something. Finally, he sighed and returned to his work.
"That sounds… strange. The mountains have their own secrets, but undead creatures, that's something I've never heard of in this world. Maybe it's just some fantasy or hallucination, kid."
Long Tian nodded, relieved that the old man didn't press him further. He couldn't reveal the true nature of what he had experienced. The most important thing now was to get out of this situation without raising any more questions.
At that moment, Old Yao sighed and leaned back in his chair. He seemed deep in thought.
"Though I don't know what happened there, there's something I can tell you. It's an ancient legend. They say that in this world, there were times when cultivators existed. Beings with the power to fly, break mountains with their hands, split seas with their strength, and live for centuries. But of course, these are just stories I've heard in my travels. No one has seen a cultivator in generations, and many think they're just tales to scare children."
Long Tian furrowed his brow, absorbing those words. While the legends of cultivators sounded familiar from the ancient texts he had read in his past life, he wasn't sure if he could trust the stories the old man was telling him.
"Cultivators?" he asked, curious. "Did those people really exist?"
The old Yao shrugged.
"I don't know. If they ever existed, today they're nothing but a memory. But you never know. Maybe you, kid, are someone special. Who knows? Anyway, I don't care much about it. I'm just an old herbalist who spends his days treating wounds and gathering herbs."
Long Tian nodded slowly, although inside, the old man's words resonated deeply with him. Cultivators, the power to fly and break mountains… it was something he couldn't ignore. Maybe those legends had something to do with his own fate.
When the herbalist finished treating his wound, Long Tian stood with some effort.
"Thank you, Grandpa Yao," he said sincerely. "I really appreciate your help."
"Tch, don't call me Grandpa, kid. I may be old enough to look like one, but I'm not. Well, go on then. As I said, if you survive, we can talk about whatever you want."
Long Tian bowed slightly, grateful, and left the small house. Although his hand didn't hurt as much anymore, his mind kept spinning around the old man's words.
Cultivators… Could it be possible that, somewhere in this world, there existed the kind of power he had imagined countless times in his dreams? And, if they did exist, how close was he to becoming one of them?
After leaving Grandpa Yao's small hut, Long Tian took a deep breath. The bandage on his hand eased the burning pain, but his empty stomach and the uncertainty of his situation weighed more heavily than any physical wound.
He remembered the old man he had seen when he first arrived in the village—someone who seemed to have some authority or knowledge about the place. He decided to seek him out for more information.
After walking past a few houses, he found him sitting under a tree, calmly carving wood. Long Tian approached respectfully.
"Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if there's a nearby city I could head toward… and also, if there's any work I could do in the village in exchange for some food and shelter. I have no money… and I owe Grandpa Yao for the medicine he gave me."
The old man studied him in silence for a moment, as if measuring the sincerity in his eyes. Finally, he nodded.
"The nearest city is to the north, about a three-day walk," he said calmly. "It's not an easy trip if you're injured, but in a week, some villagers will head there to sell goods. You can go with them if you want."
Long Tian nodded, grateful.
"Thank you… I'll do whatever I can to help in the meantime."
The old man let out a small chuckle as he set down his carving knife.
"You can help with some chores around the village. There's wood to chop, animals to tend, and fields to check. It's not glamorous, but it'll cover your stay and a bit of food. Talk to Madam Lin she organizes tasks for outsiders."
Long Tian bowed slightly.
"I'll do whatever is needed. Thank you for the opportunity."
As he made his way toward Madam Lin's house, the young man knew this new world would offer him nothing for free. He would have to earn every bite of bread, every piece of knowledge, every fragment of power… and this was only the beginning.