The wind carried the faint scent of pine and damp soil as Li Shen knelt in the grass, fingers working with quiet precision. The small silverleaf plant trembled as he plucked its stem, brushing dirt from its roots before slipping it into the cloth satchel at his side. Morning light filtered through the tall cedars, dappling his worn linen sleeves with shifting patterns.
His hands were steady, but callused evidence of someone who'd worked more than he'd lived. Every herb he gathered would earn a few copper coins at the shop, enough to buy rice and maybe dried fish if business was good. But coins weren't what he wanted.
His gaze wandered beyond the tree canopy, toward the distant peaks. They rose above the clouds like silent guardians, said to be home to powerful cultivators men and women who could split boulders with a flick of the wrist or ride lightning as easily as a horse.
Li Shen wanted to be one of them. He always had.
The village elder had told him the truth years ago, with a sigh that was both pity and finality: "No spirit root, no cultivation. Dreams are for those chosen by the heavens."
He pulled another sprig of silverleaf free and tried to ignore the ache in his chest.
Then a branch snapped somewhere behind him.
The sound was sharp and heavy too heavy for a bird, too deliberate for the wind. Li Shen froze, crouched low, eyes sweeping the shadows.
Nothing moved.
Still, he stood slowly, satchel slung over his shoulder, and began to walk toward the sound. Each step was careful, quiet. He knew the forest's moods; something was wrong.
After a dozen paces, he saw it.
A man lay slumped against the base of a cedar, half-hidden in the shadows. His robes were once white, now torn and stained crimson. His breathing was shallow, ragged, each inhale a battle.
Li Shen hesitated, then stepped closer. "Sir… are you hurt?"
The man's eyes cracked open dark, sharp, and full of something Li Shen couldn't name. His right hand gripped a jade pendant, its surface etched with swirling lines that seemed to shift when the light touched them.
The man's lips moved, and Li Shen had to lean closer to hear. "Boy… take it…" His voice was no more than a rasp, yet his hand clamped down on the pendant as if it were life itself.
Li Shen shook his head. "I can help you to the village"
"No time." The man's voice sharpened for a moment, urgency cutting through the weakness. He pressed the pendant into Li Shen's palm. "It will… find you… when the time comes."
The jade was warm almost alive and Li Shen felt a faint pulse beneath his fingers, like a heartbeat. Before he could ask what the man meant, the stranger's gaze dimmed. His head tilted forward, and the forest grew still again.
Li Shen stood there, staring at the lifeless body. He wanted to drop the pendant, but his fingers refused to let go. The warmth seeped from his palm into his chest, curling like an ember deep inside him.
Then
Crunch.
The sound of leaves underfoot. Heavy. Close.
Li Shen's head snapped toward the trees. Shadows shifted in the distance, and the footsteps drew nearer. Whoever it was, they weren't bothering to hide.
He stepped back, eyes darting between the corpse and the deep forest. The warmth in his chest pulsed harder, faster, as if the pendant itself could sense danger.
The footsteps grew louder.