Chương 15: The Abandoned Medicinal Garden

Upon entering the second floor, the atmosphere shifted. Aside from a few scattered tables and chairs in the central hall, the space felt strangely cavernous and hollow. Directly opposite the staircase, a massive, unadorned scroll hung against the far wall. Senior Brother Ma approached it with practiced ease. With a flick of his wrist, he channeled a strand of True Essence into a hand seal, striking the parchment.

A faint, ethereal shimmer rippled across the surface, and the scroll began to unfurl with a soft, rhythmic creak. The parchment was a dense tapestry of ink, meticulously inscribed with tiny characters and topographical markers. Ma performed another gesture, and the majority of the map dimmed into shadow, leaving only a few scattered, glowing patches of light across the landscape.

"Junior Brother Reyn, these are the medicinal gardens within the sect that currently remain unclaimed," Ma said, a polite smile playing on his lips as he stepped aside.

"Since you have the special dispensation from the Fifth Martial Uncle, you may select any one of these locations. Once chosen, the garden—and its yield—will be yours to manage." Reyn offered a respectful cupped-fist salute and walked toward the glowing map, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the available territories. Before he could speak, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the silence.

"Junior Brother Reyn, though you are a registered disciple of my Master and he has granted you this privilege, one must look at the reality of things." Duan Huaming stepped forward, his smile not reaching his cold eyes.

"You lack spiritual roots. Your cultivation is destined to stagnate at the Qi Condensation stage forever, and your potential in the Dao of Alchemy is, frankly, negligible. Perhaps it would be best if I chose a garden on your behalf? It would be a pity to see the sect's precious resources go to waste on a plot you cannot possibly maintain." Reyn's frame stiffened. Here it comes, he thought, the anticipated malice finally baring its teeth.

He took a slow, measured breath to steady his racing heart before turning to face Duan. His expression remained a mask of calm.

"If Senior Brother is so inclined to assist, then I shall trouble you to make the choice." Senior Brother Ma's gaze flickered over Reyn. He didn't show the same disdain Duan did; instead, seeing Reyn's composure in the face of such a blatant provocation, a hint of genuine appreciation surfaced in his eyes.

"I believe this one is quite suitable," Duan Huaming said, his finger stabbing toward a remote, desolate corner of the map. It was a tiny speck of territory labeled in cramped, spindly script: Abandoned Medicinal Garden.

"It has been neglected for some time, but surely there are remnants of herbs left behind. If Junior Brother Reyn takes some seeds and puts in the... significant labor required, it might eventually resemble a proper garden again." Reyn's muscles coiled like a spring, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists hidden within his wide sleeves. However, a cold clarity washed over him a moment later.

With his current standing and lack of power, an open confrontation with Duan Huaming would be nothing short of professional suicide.

"Senior Brother's wisdom is profound," Reyn replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Since you recommend it, I shall take this garden." Duan Huaming's eyebrows twitched. He had expected an outburst, a plea, or a defiant refusal—anything that would give him an excuse to 'discipline' the newcomer. Finding no purchase for his malice, he could only suppress his irritation.

"Haha, Junior Brother Reyn truly understands the bigger picture. Senior Brother Ma, if you would be so kind as to register this plot under Reyn's name." Ma looked at Reyn with increasing respect. A man who knew when to bend was a man who might one day break his enemies. After a brief period of administrative work, the deed to the valley that had been forsaken for decades was officially transferred to Reyn.

"Work hard on your cultivation, Junior Brother," Duan Huaming sneered as he prepared to depart, his condescension now fully unveiled.

"In our Hundred Herb Valley, we pride ourselves on our speed. Don't become a drag on our reputation or a laughingstock for the rest of the sect." Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Reyn remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor until Duan was gone. Only then did his fists tighten until his bones popped. A wave of despondency threatened to drown him. Without spiritual roots, he was shackled by fate.

How could he ever hope to wash away this humiliation without the strength to back his resolve? After leaving the Spirit Apportioning Pavilion, Reyn returned to the valley to gather his few belongings. He drew a supply of spirit herb seeds and basic alchemy manuals from the storehouse. Perhaps Dan Chenzi felt a flicker of guilt for the boy's treatment, as the guards allowed him to take a generous variety of seeds without question.

When Reyn finally reached the 'Abandoned Medicinal Garden,' he stood at the entrance of the small valley, utterly speechless. A medicinal garden required spirit-rich soil to flourish, but the sight before him was a graveyard of botany. Overgrown with waist-high weeds and choked by jagged rocks, the earth felt dead. The spiritual essence in the soil was so abysmal it was almost non-existent. It was as if the previous tenant had intentionally scorched the very life out of the land.

He spent half an hour traversing the small valley, his face darkening with every step. The soil's vitality had bled away long ago. Planting seeds here wouldn't just be difficult; it would be a miracle if anything sprouted at all. Duan Huaming's move was surgical—by giving him this ruin, he had effectively strangled Reyn's future in alchemy before it could even begin.

"Duan Huaming... one day, I will repay this debt a hundredfold." Exhausted and simmering with a quiet fury, Reyn retreated to a small, dilapidated stone hut at the edge of the valley. He sat cross-legged on a tattered meditation mat, forcing his mind into a state of equilibrium. He began to circulate the Myriad Wood Life-Transformation Art. Suddenly, the world shifted. The thin, stagnant spiritual energy in the air suddenly acted as if it were being pulled by a violent vortex.

It surged toward Reyn, rushing into his pores with a velocity a hundred times greater than anything he had ever experienced. Reyn's eyes snapped open, wide with shock. He had done nothing differently. Why was the world suddenly pouring itself into him? He waited, his heart hammering against his ribs, before closing his eyes again. This time, he activated his Internal Vision, tracking the flow of energy with microscopic precision. Qi entered his dantian and flowed into his meridians, moving sluggishly at first.

Then, he felt a familiar ripple in his soul. The Golden Seal, fused deep within his essence, began to glow with a pale, majestic light. It acted like a celestial pump, creating a terrifying suction that dragged the surrounding Qi into his body. Though the seal devoured nearly ninety percent of the intake, the remaining ten percent that flowed into Reyn's meridians was still massive. In just a few breaths, his internal energy expanded visibly. Reyn gasped, his shock turning into a wild, soaring joy.

With this Golden Seal, the lack of spiritual roots was no longer a death sentence! His cultivation speed would not just match ordinary disciples—it would eclipse them. He slammed his fist into the palm of his hand, a newfound confidence radiating from his core. By the next morning, Reyn stepped out of the stone hut, unable to hide the grin on his face. The Golden Seal's power was beyond his wildest dreams. In a single night, the thin thread of Qi in his body had thickened to the width of a finger.

His dantian felt warm and pressurized, a sensation of absolute vitality. The First Level of Qi Condensation! To achieve this in one night was a feat that would leave the most talented geniuses of the sect—those with Saintly Spirit Roots—gaping in disbelief. But with this power came a chilling realization: the Golden Seal was a treasure of such magnitude that if it were ever discovered, he would be hunted to the ends of the earth. He had to keep this secret buried deeper than his own soul.

Fortunately, his exile to this wasteland worked in his favor. No one came here. No one cared about the 'rootless' boy in the dead garden. He was invisible. For two more days, Reyn remained secluded in his hut, focusing entirely on his progress. On the third morning, he exhaled a breath of turbid air, his eyes flashing with a sharp, refined light.

"The peak of the First Level of Qi Condensation," he whispered, testing the strength in his limbs. But then, a frown marred his features.

"If I continue at this rate, someone will notice. A man with no roots reaching the peak of the first level in days is an impossibility. I need a way to hide this." As if responding to his intent, the Golden Seal within his soul began to revolve. One of its facets shimmered, revealing thousands of tiny, glowing characters. They were written in an ancient Tadpole Script, surrounded by profound, archaic patterns that hummed with a sense of primordial sovereignty.

Though the script was ancient, the meaning flowed into Reyn's mind as if he had known it since birth. The Hunyuan True Scripture. It was a manual for the soul, a technique of the Primordial Origin. Nestled within its opening chapters was a specialized technique for aura concealment and breath control. It was the perfect solution to his predicament. Reyn's laughter echoed through the desolate valley, a sound of pure, unadulterated triumph.