Chapter 38: An Unexpected Opportunity
Han Yu realized that the youths had been gathered back to the same plaza where they had started.
Those who passed the trial were led away first by an elder with the bearing of an immortal.
Those eliminated were crying as they were escorted down the mountain by waiting family members.
At the very end, only he and Li Hanzhou remained.
Earlier, he had already told his third uncle about entering the outer sect. His uncle, pleased, slipped him a heavy cloth pouch, urging him to train well and aim to pass into the inner sect next year.
After they parted, Han Yu stood at the foot of Baxiang Sect's mountain, watching his uncle's figure fade into the distance, his heart a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Third Uncle, I will make something of myself!"
He clenched his fists and made a silent vow.
Beside him, Li Hanzhou remained silent, his cold, sharp features revealing no emotion.
At that moment, Elder Wang approached, stroking his beard with a smile. "Come, I'll take you to report at the outer sect."
But before they could take more than a few steps, a raspy voice sounded from behind.
"Wait."
Han Yu turned and saw an old man in black robes approaching.
The man was gaunt, his face sinister, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, as if they could pierce into one's heart.
"Elder Mo?" Elder Wang looked briefly surprised, then smiled. "Why have you come in person?"
The black-robed elder—Daoist Mo—snorted, his gaze sweeping over Han Yu and Li Hanzhou. "My medicine garden is short two disciples. I'll be taking these two."
A flicker of surprise passed through Elder Wang's eyes, but his smile returned quickly. He nodded. "Since Elder Mo has spoken, there's no problem."
He turned to the two youths. "You're lucky. Elder Mo is master of our sect's medicine garden. Training under him is a great fortune."
Han Yu's heart leapt with joy, and he quickly bowed. "Many thanks, Elder!"
Li Hanzhou only gave a slight nod.
After Daoist Mo led them away, Elder Wang watched their backs and sighed. "The last batch barely lasted half a year… hopefully these two will endure longer."
…
The medicine garden lay deep in the back mountain of Baxiang Sect, surrounded by mist and steeped in a rich herbal fragrance.
A wave of cool, clean scent rushed toward them. Han Yu breathed deeply, feeling as if the fragrance filled his lungs and washed away the fatigue of climbing the Ascension Steps.
Terraced fields spread along the slope, layered like green brocade.
All sorts of spirit herbs grew among the rows—some with leaves like translucent jade, some with stems as red as fire, others bearing thumb-sized fruits glowing faintly in the morning light.
"These… all spirit herbs?"
Han Yu had never seen so many rare plants. His eyes darted everywhere in wonder.
He crouched down to touch a silver-leafed herb at his feet, but the moment his fingers brushed the edge, the leaf curled slightly as if alive.
"Don't touch that."
The cold voice came from behind. Han Yu turned to see Li Hanzhou standing nearby, his gaze fixed on the plant.
"That's Coldheart Grass. Its leaf edges have fine barbs—touch them and your skin will go numb for half a day."
Han Yu quickly withdrew his hand and smiled sheepishly. "Thanks for the warning, Senior Brother Li."
The other youth looked a year or two older, so the title came naturally.
Li Hanzhou said no more, turning to follow Daoist Mo deeper into the garden.
Soon, they reached a simple wooden hut where Daoist Mo stopped.
Without warning, something heavy fell into Han Yu's palms. Looking down, he saw an old, yellowed book.
Daoist Mo's voice was cold. "For the next few days, you will do nothing else but train in this Longevity Art. In seven days, I will test you. Fail, and you'll be sent straight back to the outer sect."
With that, he turned and strode away, his black robe snapping in the wind until he vanished into the depths of the garden.
Han Yu hardly cared about the elder's abruptness—his heart was pounding with both nerves and anticipation.
Opening the Longevity Art, he saw it recorded a basic breathing technique, claiming that mastery could prolong life and lay a solid foundation for stepping onto the immortal path.
"Seven days… I have to succeed!"
After speaking with Li Hanzhou for a moment, Han Yu was assigned a narrow wooden hut with only a bed and a low table.
Closing the door, he immediately sat cross-legged and began adjusting his breathing according to the book's instructions, trying to sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
As time passed, his whole body grew sore and numb, yet there was no sign of the "energy sensation" described in the text. Disheartened, he thought of those silk-robed youths—surely they had succeeded long ago.
But in the next moment, his stubborn nature flared. He pushed all distracting thoughts aside and resumed his cultivation.
Late into the night, just when he was about to give up again, a faint warmth suddenly rose within his body, slowly flowing through his meridians.
"Energy sensation! This… this is what the book meant?!"
Overjoyed, he held steady until the warmth stabilized, then exhaled in relief and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Success!"
In his excitement, he tried to stand, but his legs had gone numb from sitting too long. He dropped back down, landing hard on the bedboard, but his good mood made him laugh it off.
Once the numbness faded, he got up, pushed open the door, and stepped outside.
The night was deep, the medicine garden silent except for the occasional chirp of insects.
Walking under the moonlight, Han Yu wandered along the paths, careful not to step on the ridges for fear of damaging the precious herbs.
The once-busy fields now rustled softly in the wind, the herbs whispering in the darkness. He moved cautiously, avoiding the pits and bumps on the path.
Suddenly—
Crack!
His foot caught on something, making him stumble forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a black shape lying across the path.
"What is that?"
Frowning, he bent down to feel it. It was hard, half-buried in the soil, its surface caked with dried mud. It looked like a rock, but when he pulled hard, the shell cracked apart, revealing a jade-like sheen beneath.
"What… is this?"
Heart pounding, Han Yu wiped away the dirt with his sleeve.
As the mud flaked off, a small jade gourd emerged—greenish-white, smooth as polished fat, faintly carved with fine patterns that shimmered in the moonlight.
"A treasure?!"
He froze, breath caught in his throat.
His third uncle often told tales of the cultivation world—stories of protagonists stumbling upon hidden treasures and gaining great opportunities.
But why would such a jade gourd be buried here in the medicine garden?
He instinctively looked around.
The night wind whistled. In the herb beds, shadows shifted faintly. Far off, the lights in Daoist Mo's dwelling on the cliff were out, and the entire medicine garden lay in darkness.
Only the gourd in his hand grew warm, as if responding to his touch.
"Better keep it for now!"
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