The morning mist clung to Mount Tai's slopes like a silken veil, shrouding Li Wei's makeshift camp in a damp, ethereal haze. He woke stiff and sore, his sleeping bag damp from the night's dew, but his spirit burned brighter than ever. The fleeting sensation of qi from the previous day fueled his determination, and the ancient scroll, now slightly crinkled from his constant handling, lay beside him like a sacred relic. Today, he would push further—refine his qi, deepen his connection to the spiritual energy the scroll promised would lead him to immortality.
Li Wei's stomach growled, a sharp reminder that he hadn't eaten since the stale bread he'd packed for the train. The scroll mentioned "sustaining the body with heaven's bounty," which he interpreted as foraging. He wasn't entirely naive—years of city life hadn't prepared him for wilderness survival, but he'd watched enough nature documentaries to know that mountains often hid edible treasures. Berries, roots, perhaps even mystical herbs like those in cultivation novels, ones that could boost his qi or unlock hidden potential. With the scroll tucked into his backpack and a makeshift walking stick in hand, he set out to explore the forested slopes beyond his clearing.
The forest was dense, a tangle of pine and cedar interwoven with creeping vines and mossy rocks. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden shafts, casting dappled patterns on the earth. Li Wei moved cautiously, his eyes scanning for anything that matched the scroll's vague descriptions of "spirit herbs" that "glow with the essence of the earth." He wasn't sure what that meant, but he imagined something radiant, pulsing with otherworldly energy. Hours passed, and his search yielded only a handful of bitter-tasting berries and a few mushrooms he didn't dare eat. His enthusiasm waned as hunger gnawed at him, and the weight of his isolation pressed harder. What if the scroll was just a fantasy? What if he was chasing shadows?
Then, as he pushed through a thicket near a bubbling stream, he saw it—a cluster of plants nestled in a patch of sunlight, their leaves an unnatural shade of silver-green, shimmering as if dusted with starlight. The stems were delicate, topped with tiny, luminescent buds that seemed to pulse faintly in the breeze. Li Wei's breath caught. This was no ordinary plant. This was the "Spirit Root Herb" he'd read about in cultivation stories, the kind that could amplify qi or grant miraculous insights. Or so he told himself, ignoring the possibility it was just a trick of the light on some rare alpine flora.
He dropped to his knees, carefully uprooting one plant with trembling hands. Its roots were fine and threadlike, exuding a faint, peppery scent that made his nose tingle. The scroll hadn't specified how to use such herbs, but Li Wei recalled tales of cultivators brewing teas or eating them raw to absorb their essence. Starving and impatient, he opted for the latter. He brushed off the dirt, whispered a quick prayer to whatever immortals might be listening, and popped a leaf into his mouth.
The taste was sharp, almost metallic, with a bitter aftertaste that made him wince. He chewed slowly, expecting a surge of energy, a rush of qi flooding his meridians. Instead, his stomach churned violently, a wave of nausea rising within minutes. He stumbled to the stream, splashing cold water on his face, his heart racing. Was this a test? A "tribulation" to cleanse his mortal impurities? The scroll had warned of such trials, but the pain doubling him over felt more like food poisoning than divine purification.
Then, as he sat panting by the stream, something shifted. A warm, almost electric sensation spread from his stomach to his limbs, not unlike the qi he'd felt before but stronger, more chaotic. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he swore he saw faint wisps of light curling around his fingers, like smoke made of starlight. His pulse quickened, not from fear but exhilaration. "It's working," he whispered, clutching the remaining herbs. He stuffed them into his backpack, convinced he'd found a key to his cultivation.
Back at camp, Li Wei's excitement was tempered by lingering cramps. He scribbled in his notebook, detailing the herb's appearance, the taste, and the sensations that followed. "Spirit Root Herb: enhances qi flow, induces visions. Possible tribulation side effects." He ignored the nagging voice in his head suggesting he'd eaten a toxic mushroom. Instead, he meditated again, trying to harness the energy he felt coursing through him. The warmth persisted, erratic but undeniable, and in his mind's eye, he visualized it as a river of light, pooling in his dantian.
As night fell, he lay by his small fire, the forest alive with the chirps of crickets and the rustle of leaves. The stars above Mount Tai seemed brighter, almost as if they were watching him. Li Wei clutched the scroll to his chest, the remaining herbs safely stored. He didn't know if the plant was truly mystical or if his body was simply reacting to an unknown toxin, but he chose to believe. Belief was all he had left. The path to immortality was fraught with uncertainty, but today, he'd taken another step. The cramps would pass. The visions would guide him. And the scroll, his only companion, would light the way.