Twists of fate have a way of turning bitter, but Ethan Moore didn't dwell on his misfortune. Even as a fallen prince, the loss barely weighed on him. What gnawed at him the most, what left him uneasy and unwilling, was being nothing more than ordinary—a mere mortal with nothing but a "Mortal Root."
On Earth, everyone started at the same line. Even if he couldn't cultivate, he could always find another way to surpass the competition. Here, being unable to cultivate meant never even having a chance.
Even if his fate was sealed—that he truly had no spirit root—he refused to give up until he saw the results with his own eyes. Mulling over these thoughts, torn between hope and resignation, Ethan Moore didn't even know when sleep took him.
It was hunger that finally pulled him back to the waking world. Ethan opened his eyes to find it was already bright outside. He sat up and saw, on the battered little table near the door, a generous bowl of steaming rice, a plate of pickled vegetables, and half a cucumber.
"You're awake, Young Master! Freshen up and have some breakfast," Luna Yates cried out with delight the moment she saw him stir.
Ethan looked at Luna's ashen face, the dark circles under her eyes, and her weary, bloodshot gaze. "You didn't sleep last night, did you?"
"I helped Ivy Lu with her street stall. We had a good night—lots of business." Though exhausted, Luna radiated a quiet joy.
Ethan understood the source of her happiness: when business was good, Ivy Lu paid more for her help.
He slid from his hard wooden cot and crossed to Luna's side, gently smoothing her messy hair. He stood in silence for a long time.
He realized Luna had likely spent countless nights like this, working straight through until dawn just to care for him. She'd long since made it a habit. That fool Xavier Moore—living off a teenage girl, spending her hard-earned coins on candy just so he could play at make-believe court every day.
"You barely ate yesterday. Come, freshen up and eat something," Luna urged, encouraged by the change she saw in the young master's demeanor.
"You go ahead, I'll be right there," Ethan replied, a surge of protectiveness and gratitude welling up from somewhere deep inside—sentiments he'd never felt in either of his lives. Even when his former lover was kind to him back on Earth, her affection was cold, never as honest or moving as Luna's. In the end, that relationship ended in betrayal.
Luna quickly protested, "I've already eaten, Young Master, you—"
But her words fell away as Ethan walked to the edge of her cot, bent down, and picked up a half-eaten, blackened bun from under her pillow.
Silently, he held it in his hand. That "meal" was as hard as a rock, its edges nibbled and dry—he'd already noticed the crumbs at the corner of Luna's lips when she claimed to have eaten.
He brought the bun to his nose; the faint odor of mildew stung his senses. The rotten, black bun and the fresh, white rice on the table could not have been more different. No wonder—at her age, Luna's hair was already yellowed from malnutrition.
Maybe it was the musty smell, but Ethan's nose tingled and something sharp stung his eyes.
"Young Master, you can't eat that—" Luna Yates blurted out, mistaking his intentions.
Ethan gently took her rough hands in his, his voice steady and soft. "Luna, as long as your big brother has a bite to eat, you'll never go hungry again. And from today on, don't spend another night working street stalls. Remember: from now on, I'll be the one supporting you."
This one meal, this act of kindness—Ethan knew he would never forget it for the rest of his life.
"Y-Young Master…" Luna's voice quivered. She looked at him with mounting worry, uncertain about the changes in him today.
Cautiously, Ethan released her hands, patted her fingers, and stepped outside. He wiped away the dampness from the corners of his eyes, composing himself before the day.
...
After breakfast, Ethan set out. He'd made Luna split the breakfast with him and forced her to rest on her own cot before he left, but the guilt lingered. He needed to find work—as soon as possible. Anything to ease Luna's burdens.
...
Among all the principalities of Chenyu, Raozhou City was the largest and most dynamic. Strolling through its teeming streets, Ethan felt the city's pulse was every bit as fast as any metropolis back on Earth.
The Raozhou Guild—that was where people went for work, whether to hire or be hired. Ethan made a beeline straight there.
The moment he entered, he was met by rows of windowed counters. Some posted long-term job offers from the city's largest workshops, others handled day labor and short-term gigs. Handwritten job boards peppered the walls—so much like a multi-purpose employment center back on Earth.
The hall was vast—over a thousand people milled about, yet the space felt wide and airy.
After just a few minutes circling the room, Ethan spotted the two most in-demand professions: medicinal crop growers, and mineral prospectors.
He shook his head—not surprised. For all that this was a "technological" world, high-tech gadgets were rare. It was obvious that electronic skills weren't valued here; the wages proved it. A specialized mechanic earned just a third as much as a medicinal crop expert, and only a fifth of what a mineral prospector received.
But that didn't matter to Ethan. On Earth, he'd been both a leading biologist and an expert botanist. Finding work here would be child's play.
He skimmed the postings.
Raozhou Herb Plantation was looking for a grafting specialist—thirty silver coins per month. Several openings for "herb garden attendants"—ten silvers apiece, experience required. Copper Mountain Quarry sought both mineral prospectors and mineral analysts—for a remarkable fifty silvers a month each.
With his skill set, Ethan had no doubt he could land the mineral analyst job. In fact, he wasn't choosing based on interest or reputation. He simply aimed for the highest salary—the sooner he earned enough, the sooner he could move on.
Mineral analyst, then. Ethan headed for the Copper Mountain desk and got in line. That was when a brand-new sign at the next counter caught his eye:
"Urgent! Shengling Elixir Workshop seeks multiple assistant alchemists. Salary: ten gold coins per month."
Ethan stopped in his tracks. In this world, the basic currencies were gold, silver, and copper coins: one gold equaled a hundred silvers, or ten thousand coppers. Ten golds a month absolutely eclipsed anything else—it was nearly unrivaled. With this kind of offer, it would be criminal for a skilled biologist like him to pass it up.
Alchemy was just pharmaceutical science by another name, after all. On Earth, with rising drug resistance, wealthy elites had abandoned chemical meds. Herbal remedies and botanical extracts—his bread and butter—had become all the rage. He'd produced dozens of miracle treatments for big-name companies, always as a top-tier consultant, never for less than a six-figure payday.
Seizing the advantage, Ethan claimed the first seat at the Shengling Workshop's newly opened interview counter. He straightened his posture, smile relaxed yet brimming with confidence, and spoke up. "I'm here to apply for…uh, an assistant alchemist position at your workshop."
Behind the desk was a shrewd, capable-looking woman in her forties. She raised an eyebrow at Ethan's casual approach, eyes flicking to see if he had any documents, then asked, a hint of skepticism in her voice, "May I see your original assistant alchemist certification, please?"