Blossoming Path

I sat cross-legged on the worn floor of my shop, sorting through the last remnants of my medicinal herbs. Most of them were bruised, like the people they were meant to heal, and barely enough to cover the worst of our wounds. My fingers trembled slightly as I worked, but I willed them steady, ignoring the dull throb radiating from my chest. Each breath came with a faint hitch, a reminder of the punches Wei Long had delivered, but I refused to let it slow me down.

I sighed, shaking my head at the limitations, but there was no point in complaining. With gentle fingers, I crushed the dried leaves into powder, applying it over Windy’s bruised scales. My arms protested the motion but I pushed through, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.

Using the last of my extracted chamomile essence, I poured it over the powder and watched him coil, a faint hiss slipping out as the medicine stung.

“It’s alright, Windy,” I murmured, patting his small head. “You’re a tough one.”

Windy gave a reluctant nod, his usually sharp eyes softened, if only slightly, by pain. Lan-Yin, the least injured among us, tended to the rest of the villagers. Beside me, Wang Jun sat with two massive bruises along his forearms and a broken nose from his contest of strength against Wei Long. He shot me a look that was half a grimace, half a smile.

“Didn’t expect a beating like that today.” he muttered.

“I'm sorry for getting you all pulled into it,” I replied quietly, casting a glance toward Tianyi. She sat a little apart from us, leaning against the wall, her face as serene as ever. However, her eyes seemed calmer, the only tell from her expressionless face to determine what she was feeling. Her human form was still unfamiliar to me, but the patches of spiderweb-like cracks running along her neck and shoulders reminded me all too much of the damage we’d endured.

The rhythmic ache in my chest surged again, sharper this time, as if my body were chastising me for ignoring it. I resisted the urge to probe the bruising around my sternum. I could already guess the extent of the damage; probably cracked, if not broken ribs. But those could wait. There were more pressing matters at hand.

As I worked, I noticed a thin thread, shimmering faintly, stretched across Tianyi’s shoulder.

The source was clear: that shadowy spider, Yin Si, hiding just within the shadows, her delicate legs weaving intricate strands that formed a makeshift bandage across Tianyi’s worst injuries.

It wasn’t just a patch job, either. There was something almost… purposeful about her weaving, as if she understood what each thread needed to do.

Tianyi noticed my stare and gently extended two thin strands of her own hair toward the spider. There was a quiet moment of concentration on her face as she closed her eyes, her fingers brushing over the threads. When she pulled her hand away, the strands glowed briefly, as if infused with a spark of her qi. Yin Si paused, her mandibles twitching before she nodded, looking like she’d gained a sudden burst of energy. With one last look of—was that derision?—toward me, she disappeared back into the shadows.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Tianyi… did you just… give her some of your qi?”

Tianyi tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “She needed it,” she replied, her voice soft. “She used up much of her silk to fix me.”

Before I could think on it further, footsteps echoed from outside, and a knock sounded at the doorframe. I straightened, biting back a wince as the motion pulled at my bruised neck. Feng Wu and Tian Zhan entered, their forms casting long shadows into the room. Both looked composed, though faint lines of weariness touched their faces.

“It’s over,” Feng Wu said, his voice quiet. “Narrow Stone Peak has departed. Your village won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

A wave of relief washed over me, though it didn’t entirely erase the unease coiling in my chest. “Thank you,” I managed, my voice hoarse. “Both of you… you really didn’t have to go that far for us.”

Tian Zhan stepped further inside, glancing around at the simplicity of my home with a slight nod of approval. “It was necessary,” he replied. “To prevent any misunderstandings in the future.”

“Prevent misunderstandings,” I repeated, trying to wrap my head around how his "necessary measures" had resulted in slapping a first-class disciple into submission. Still, it was difficult to argue with the results.

Feng Wu crossed the room, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder as he inspected the bruises across my arms. “You handled yourself well,” he said quietly. “But you should recover. There’s no need to push yourself beyond what you already endured.”

I let out a laugh, rubbing at the back of my neck. “Didn’t feel like I handled much of anything, if I’m honest. But thank you.”

I turned to Tian Zhan, struggling to find the right words. “I… don’t know what we would’ve done without your help.”

Tian Zhan nodded, though his eyes held a keen, assessing glint. “It’s no trouble. You’ve earned a favor for helping my Junior Sister, and I keep my promises.”

The statement, though simple, held a power that left me quiet.

Feng Wu and Tian Zhan exchanged glances as they stepped further into the room, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of us nursing our wounds. Tian Zhan seemed at ease. It was strange seeing him so relaxed, like a different person from the one who’d commanded Wei Long to heel.

Tian Zhan shifted a large, weathered bundle off his shoulder and held it out to me. The rough cloth was hastily knotted, threads sticking out at odd angles. He set it down carefully, and as he untied it, I could see several vibrant herbs and delicate stalks spilling over the edges, their fragrances mingling in the air. The bulb of a Jadeleaf Lily, the Sunfire Blade Grass, and other rare, high-end ingredients peeked out from the wrinkled cloth.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

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“These are from Jingyu Lian and Zhi Ruo,” Tian Zhan explained. “They heard about what happened and sent what they could. Quickly, as you can see.”

I took in the bundle, surprised not just by the quality but by the obvious rush in its packing. The herbs and ingredients seemed like they’d been snatched off shelves and bundled together without thought, leaves twisted and stalks bent, as though they’d thrown in whatever valuable ingredients they could find in their haste to help.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely overwhelmed. “Please… thank them for me. I don’t think I deserve all this.”

Tian Zhan gave a smile, one that softened his otherwise intense expression. “They’ll be glad to hear it. Though my Junior Sister would probably remind you she’s still the better alchemist.”

Before I could respond, Feng Wu stepped forward, setting down a polished wooden box, wide and deep with a sturdy latch. He opened it, revealing an orderly array of seeds, bulbs, and small rhizomes, all carefully stored in sections. Unlike the vibrant colors of Tian Zhan’s gift, this looked humble and simple, each herb variety carefully labeled.

“I thought these might be useful,” Feng Wu said, gesturing to the neatly arranged box. “It’s not as… dramatic as Tian Zhan’s gift, but we wanted to help you get your garden back on its feet. These are sourced from Tranquil Breeze Farm, so there's no doubt about their quality.”

Over a dozen types of seeds, bulbs, and rhizomes; everything I’d need to start fresh and fill my garden with a complete range of practical herbs. It was a gardener’s dream, a perfect foundation to restore everything I’d lost.

“Thank you, Feng Wu. Both of you. I owe you a debt.”

Tian Zhan shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, his posture casual, almost unguarded. “We did what was necessary, Kai. Leaving a talent like yours to suffer would be a disservice.”

Still, I glanced between them, unable to hold back a hint of confusion. “Even after everything? Jingyu Lian… she didn’t have to go this far. We're not that close, either.”

“Although I'm repaying my debt by being here, I suppose this is her way of repaying you for the Gauntlet,” Tian Zhan replied.

As I carefully arranged the herbs and seeds, I noticed him watching me, a faint amusement in his eyes. His earlier harshness with Wei Long felt worlds away, replaced with something softer, like he was a completely different person. He must have noticed my lingering contemplative look, because he inclined his head, meeting my gaze.

“If my methods seemed… harsh,” he began, his voice measured, “I apologize. Sometimes, extreme measures are necessary to prevent retaliation. Humiliating Wei Long publicly was the best way to ensure Narrow Stone Peak wouldn’t think of returning here.”

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. Tian Zhan’s harsh actions weren’t just displays of power. They were calculated moves to secure peace for us. Where I’d focused only on avoiding conflict, he had seen the longer game, one where deterrence mattered more than appeasement.

“Thank you for explaining,” I said, my voice thoughtful. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I was only worried about provoking them further.”

Feng Wu offered a nod of approval. “It’s a fine line to walk, Kai. Compassion is important, but sometimes strength alone ensures peace.”

I took a deep breath, feeling both grateful and a touch unsettled by the moral complexity of it all. But as I looked between the two of them, their gifts spread before me, I knew that whatever our differences, they were allies who’d risked themselves for us.

And I was fortunate to have such friends.

As the weight of their words settled between us, Feng Wu’s gaze shifted over to Tianyi, who sat quietly in her corner, the segmented lines on her skin highlighted in the dim light. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he took in her human form.

“Tianyi?” Feng Wu’s voice held an edge of wonder. “Has she truly achieved a human form?” He trailed off, clearly recalling her former butterfly form.

Tian Zhan, meanwhile, stared with open curiosity. His eyes roamed over her intricate, segmented skin, and around her neck where Yin Si’s silk was still woven. “I’ve never seen a spirit beast take a human form before,” he admitted. “And certainly not one with such unique… qualities.”

Tianyi met their gazes with her usual impassive calm, but when her eyes lingered on Tian Zhan, I caught a faint flicker of interest. It wasn’t admiration or curiosity; it was more an intense assessment, like she was trying to discern something fundamental about him. Then, without a word, she looked away, folding her hands in her lap.

Feeling the need to break the silence, I turned to Feng Wu. “How rare is it for a spirit beast to achieve a human form?” I asked. “The Heavenly Interface said something about it being possible only at the Essence Awakening stage, but…” I glanced at Tianyi, unsure of the specifics.

Feng Wu tilted his head thoughtfully. “It’s certainly rare. The Heavenly Interface isn’t incorrect, but it doesn’t account for the individuality of each spirit beast. Some never find the need to take human form. Take Ma Xi of Tranquil Breeze Farm; I’ve never seen him as anything other than his true form. And if rumors are correct, he doesn’t even know how to shift, though his strength is unquestionable. For most, human forms aren’t necessary for their survival or goals, so they rarely pursue them.”

Tian Zhan nodded in agreement, still eyeing Tianyi with an appreciative gaze. “From what I understand, it’s a matter of will and need. Some spirit beasts that could transform choose not to, while others keep it hidden if they do. That makes it… noteworthy that she decided it was necessary.”

I glanced at Tianyi, who continued to observe our conversation with that serene, unreadable expression. It was strange to imagine that she’d chosen this form deliberately, with a purpose of her own.

“Feng Wu... I remember you,” Tianyi said quietly, her voice as gentle as a whispering wind, her attention shifting to him briefly. Her gaze softened ever so slightly, a trace of warmth that rarely broke through her neutral demeanor. "It is good to see you. Thank you for saving Kai."

“Likewise, Tianyi,” Feng Wu replied with a modest smile. "I'm glad we arrived in time."

But when her eyes fell on Tian Zhan again, they narrowed slightly, as if she was scrutinizing him. She held his gaze a moment longer than necessary, then looked away without a word, dismissing him. Tian Zhan raised an eyebrow, perhaps a bit amused, perhaps a bit surprised, but he didn’t press her for acknowledgment.

“Quite the companion you have, Kai,” he said, his voice light. “It seems Gentle Wind Village is full of surprises.”

“She’s… unique, to say the least,” I replied, glancing at Tianyi, who met my gaze for a fleeting second before turning away. Was she mad at me?

The conversation drifted on, but my focus waned. I nodded absently as Tian Zhan and Feng Wu discussed the logistics of rebuilding the village’s defenses, their voices low but steady. My thoughts pulled me in another direction—one I couldn’t shake, no matter how hard I tried.

The truth was stark. Without the intervention of the Verdant Lotus and Whispering Wind sects, Gentle Wind Village would have been crushed under the weight of Narrow Stone Peak. All my efforts; Tianyi, Windy, the hours spent cultivating, foraging, and learning... it felt small in comparison to the centuries of power and influence wielded by these sects.

I glanced at Feng Wu and Tian Zhan. Both distinct, but incredibly capable individuals only a few years older than I was.

What did I have? A garden in ruins, a few spirit beasts, and a budding talent in alchemy. It wasn’t enough to protect anything. Not yet.

Zhi Ruo had warned me against standing out, against drawing attention that could invite danger. But wasn’t the village already a target? Avoiding conflict hadn’t protected us. If anything, it had only delayed the inevitable. If I didn’t grow stronger, if I didn’t find a way to elevate Gentle Wind Village beyond its current state, this reprieve would be temporary. The next time, there might not be allies to intervene.

My gaze fell on the gifts spread before me: the vibrant herbs and meticulously labeled seeds, symbols of the connections I’d forged. They weren’t just gifts. They were lifelines, reminders that standing alone was no longer an option.

Tianyi shifted slightly, her segmented lines catching the light as she adjusted her position. Even she, with her newfound strength and human form, wasn’t enough to change the balance of power. Not yet. I clenched my fists, a quiet resolve settling into my chest.

I looked up, cutting through the soft murmur of conversation. “Tian Zhan, Feng Wu,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. Both turned to face me, their expressions curious. “I wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done. But… I think we need to discuss something more.”

Tian Zhan raised an eyebrow, his posture shifting slightly as if preparing for a heavier topic. “Go on."

I took a steadying breath. “The truth is, Gentle Wind Village can’t stand on its own. Today proved that. And while I’ll do everything in my power to strengthen it, I don’t think I can do it alone.” My voice wavered slightly, but I pressed on. “What would it take to form a partnership between the village and your sects? Something that ensures the safety of the people here in the long run?”

Standing out might not be a choice, but a necessity. If the village was to survive, if I was to fulfill the potential others seemed to see in me, I had to take the first step.