In a small, backwater village surrounded by tired fields and silent hills, poverty was not a condition—it was a way of life. Food was precious, and hunger walked beside every household. For the villagers, having one full meal in a day was rare enough to feel like a festival, something worth smiling about long after the plates were empty.
Near a fading wooden house, an eleven-year-old boy lay stretched out on the hard earth. Despite the dust clinging to his clothes and the roughness of his surroundings, he possessed a beauty that seemed out of place in such a neglected corner of the world. His skin carried a healthy sun-touched glow, his dark hair fell in soft, natural waves, and his bright eyes held a quiet curiosity. There was something gentle yet striking about his face—so handsome that one glance felt unforgettable.
Even his smile—small, carefree, unguarded—could make the world seem softer. In a land of struggle and empty stomachs, that smile alone had the power to bring warmth.
Somewhere in the distance, a voice suddenly echoed through the quiet village:
"Han Li! Han Li!"
The boy blinked, lifted his head, and slowly sat up. His expression shifted from lazy comfort to alert attention as he turned toward the direction of the call.
The moment the voice reached his ears, Han Li's eyes brightened like lanterns igniting in the dark. His expression shifted from calm to uncontrollable excitement—like someone reunited with a long-lost loved one.
He jumped to his feet and shouted with a voice full of joy:
"Second Uncle!"
Without hesitation, he sprinted across the uneven ground. Dust rose behind him as his small figure rushed forward. When he finally reached the man, he threw his arms around him tightly, clinging as if afraid the man would disappear again.
"Second Uncle, when did you return?" Han Li asked, breathless and full of happiness.
His uncle laughed heartily, patting the boy's back with rough yet affectionate hands.
"Hahaha! Just now," he replied with a wide grin. "And look—I've brought candies and flour for you! Come, we'll make steamed buns later."
Han Li froze for half a second, stunned.
"Candy…? Buns…?" His voice trembled with disbelief, eyes wide with hope. "Uncle, are you telling the truth?"
"Yes, I am," his uncle chuckled. "Come along."
The two walked back together, Han Li practically bouncing with every step.
Soon they reached home—a simple old wooden house plastered with dried mud. The walls were worn, the window frames uneven, yet warm smoke curled from the chimney, hinting at comfort inside.
As they entered, a gentle scene awaited: a middle-aged man and a delicate woman sat on the wooden floor. A small woven basket held freshly steamed buns, and a table nearby had a few pieces of colorful candy placed neatly, as if they were treasures.
Han Li's mother looked up, smiling softly.
"Han Li, come sit. Your second uncle brought you candy and flour."
Han Li didn't hesitate—his eyes sparkled as he rushed to sit down. He picked up a bun with both hands as if it were something sacred. His second uncle sat beside him, also taking a bun.
As they ate, the uncle leaned closer and spoke with lowered voice full of excitement:
"Big Brother… I heard from my friends that in three days, a famous doctor will arrive in the village. He's searching for his final disciple."
The room suddenly felt still.
"He will pass down all his medical knowledge to the chosen one," the uncle continued. "Whoever becomes his disciple will not only receive his inheritance, but the family will also be awarded one hundred taels."
He paused for effect before adding with a grin:
"And once the disciple finishes his training, the doctor will even marry him to one of his daughters."
Han Li's mother gasped lightly, covering her mouth.
"What? Is this true? If our Li'er could become his disciple, that would be a blessing beyond dreams."
Meanwhile, Han Li sat silently, his small hands gripping the bun as his thoughts raced.
One hundred taels… That's enough flour for twenty years. Father and Mother won't have to starve anymore. And if I become a doctor… I can treat the villagers. No one will suffer without medicine.
"Yes, sister-in-law," the uncle confirmed proudly. "Everyone in the village is preparing to bring their children to try."
Han Li's father, who had been quietly listening, released a long sigh.
"It won't be easy for Li'er to be chosen," he murmured. "But… we can hope."
Then, as if shaking away worries with will alone, he spoke more firmly:
"All right. Let's eat first."
And with that, their simple meal continued—yet the air carried something new.
Possibility.
After finishing the meal, Han Li sat cross-legged on his small wooden bed, his belly warm and full—a rare and glorious feeling. His mind, however, refused to rest.
If I become the doctor's disciple… how should I treat people? Should I ask for money? But if I don't, how will I buy herbs?
He puffed out his cheeks, thinking hard.
Yes! I'll only take money for medicine. The treatment itself will be free! That sounds noble… like a true healer.
His eyes sparkled with determination as he straightened his back proudly.
Then, unable to contain his excitement, he grabbed the leg of the bed and pretended it was a patient. He tapped its wooden surface with exaggerated seriousness.
"Oh oh! This is serious!" he muttered in a deep tone, trying to imitate how important doctors spoke in stories. "It's good you brought him here in time!"
He nodded sagely at no one.
Then—suddenly remembering something—he stood up and bowed deeply toward the empty wall.
"Greetings, Master! This humble disciple greets you!"
He repeated it again… and again.
Sometimes exaggerated.
Sometimes nervous.
Sometimes so soft even ants would struggle to hear.
But eventually, doubt found him.
"Will… will I really be chosen?" he whispered into the quiet room.
The excitement in his expression flickered—just for a moment—before determination returned.
And like that, thinking and imagining hundreds of scenes, his eyelids grew heavy. Under the dim oil lamp, the boy finally drifted into sleep, still smiling faintly as though dreaming of the future.
By the next morning, when Han Li awakened, the house already felt quieter. His second uncle had left earlier at dawn.
Han Li stared at the empty spot where his uncle had sat the night before. A small pang tugged at his chest.
"…He left so soon."
But like all children with bright futures in their eyes, his sadness melted quickly. The doctor's arrival returned to his thoughts, filling him again with excitement and hope.
Soon after, his feet were already moving toward the door.
He needed to prepare.
Today was the last day before the doctor arrived.
Han Li thought for a moment, then clenched his tiny fists.
If I can find a good herb and present it to the doctor, maybe he'll see my potential!
The idea burned like fire in his chest.
Just as he stepped outside, his mother's gentle voice called:
"Han Li! Where are you going?"
He turned, grinning confidently.
"Mother, I'll be back soon! Don't worry!"
And before she could ask anything more, the boy was already running off.
---
The forest greeted him with whispering leaves and soft sunlight filtering through the canopy. It was quiet, yet alive—filled with chirping birds, distant rustling, and the earthy smell of damp soil and fallen leaves.
Tall trees stood like ancient guardians, their trunks thick and roots twisting like coiled serpents over moss-covered rocks. Wildflowers sprouted among ferns, and vines curled lazily around branches high above.
Han Li searched carefully—lifting rocks, brushing aside leaves, sniffing herbs like he'd seen grown-ups do.
"Ginger… ginger… where are you hiding?"
Hours passed.
Not even a small medicinal root appeared for him.
Finally, he sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Looks like today's not my lucky day…"
He turned to head home.
But then—
Just as he took his first step back, something caught his eye.
Not far ahead… between thick bushes and jagged rocks...
a cave entrance stood half-hidden.
A faint golden-red glow pulsed from inside—as if something powerful and mysterious was breathing within the darkness.
Han Li froze.
His heart drummed like thunder.
"…What is that?"
His curiosity pulled him forward.
And with cautious steps… he walked toward the cave.
Standing before the cave entrance, Han Li froze.
The golden-red glow flickered softly, illuminating his small face with shifting light and shadow. His heart raced, and his palms grew damp.
Should I go in…? What if something dangerous is inside? If I disappear, who will earn those one hundred taels for Father and Mother?
His breath trembled. For a long moment, he simply stood there—caught between fear and hope.
The leaves rustled behind him, as if the forest itself whispered:
Go.
Han Li clenched his jaw, forcing courage into his shaking legs.
"…I must try."
With slow, cautious steps, he entered.
---
Inside, the cave was surprisingly quiet. The glowing light seemed to fade the deeper he walked, until only faint beams slipped through cracks in the stone ceiling. Damp air curled around him, and the sound of dripping water echoed softly.
At first, there was nothing—just old rocks, moss, and shadows.
But then, a glint of green caught his eye.
Han Li's breath hitched.
A wild ginger plant—thick, vibrant, and clearly valuable—grew from the cave floor. He rushed forward, eyes shining.
"I… I really found ginger!" he whispered, excitement bubbling in his voice. "If Second Uncle hadn't bought this when I was sick, I wouldn't even know what it was."
His fingers trembled as he crouched to dig.
"This alone… could sell for ten taels…" he murmured, awe softening his tone. "Even if I'm not chosen… Mother and Father won't struggle as much."
With careful movements, he uprooted the plant, shook loose soil from the roots, and held it to his chest as if it were treasure.
But just as he turned to leave—his eyes caught something unexpected half-buried beneath dust and stone.
A ring.
Not just any ring—its band was dark silver, etched with ancient cloud and lotus patterns. The metal seemed old, yet held a soft glow, as though moonlight lived within it. A tiny red gem rested at its center, cracked yet strangely alluring—like a silent eye watching him.
Beside it lay a small, bottle—barely the size of half a teacup. The bottle was aged and weathered, its once-clear glass now cloudy with time. The cork sealing it was dry and almost crumbling, wrapped with symbols faded beyond recognition.
Han Li knelt down, curiosity overtaking caution.
He picked up the ring first, feeling its unexpected warmth, then—without a second thought—slipped it onto his finger.
To a child who owned almost nothing, a ring was just a ring—pretty, but not valuable enough to hesitate over.
As for the bottle, he initially wrinkled his nose and almost tossed it aside.
But then—
"…maybe it's worth something."
He slipped it carefully into his pocket and tried twisting the cork open, but it wouldn't budge. After a few failed attempts, he gave up.
With the ginger tucked safely in his arms, the ring on his finger, and the strange bottle hidden in his pocket—Han Li made his way out of the cave.
---
By the time he returned home, the sky was painted orange with sunset. The warm light reflected off the mudbrick walls and wooden beams of their house, making it seem softer—almost gentle.
His mother waited outside, hands on her hips, anxiety written across her delicate features.
"Han Li! Where were you?" she scolded, relief mixing with frustration. "Come in quickly. Take a bath—your second uncle brought you a new set of clothes."
Han Li paused at the doorway, clutching his treasure close.
As han li herd about new clothes he was taken by, happy jumping inside and took a bath, wore the old clothes thinking he might dirty new clothes if he wear them right now,
Tomorrow… the doctor would arrive.
And his fate was already beginning to change.