I knelt in the forest, staring at the small plant in front of me. My fingers brushed the rough bark of a gnarled winter vine, its curled tendrils barely clinging to life in the cold.

The extracted cinnamon essence swirled in my palm, glowing faintly, but I hesitated. I had already tried infusing two different plants, and each one had wilted within minutes. I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

At least, not without understanding why.

"Alright," I muttered to myself, "one more try. And if this fails, well… at least we’re learning something."

Behind me, Tianyi fluttered silently, her healing aura faint but warm as it brushed against my sore muscles. The combination of her presence and the crisp forest air worked wonders to clear the fog of exhaustion from my mind. She reached out to me through our bond, her voice gentle as a breeze.

'Can I help?' she asked.

I smiled softly, feeling her concern radiate through our connection. "I’m okay, Tianyi. Just need to figure this out. Besides, I’m actually enjoying this. I’s been a while since I got to experiment like this, out in the wild."

It had started with the wintergreen but after an infusion of cinnamon essence I had, it had shriveled in seconds, its petals blackening like scorched paper. Next was the frostroot, a plant known for thriving in harsh winters. It had fared better, lasting a few hours before wilting, its roots turning brittle and useless.

Each failure gnawed at me, but they were failures with purpose. There was a pattern forming, a commonality in each plant's collapse that I hadn’t seen before. All the plants I’d experimented with shared something in common; they were all aligned with yin energy. But when I infused them with essence of herbs aligned with yang energy, they wilted.

"So there's a limit," I murmured. "Incompatible plants die when combined with the wrong essence. That's what the quest meant by 'viable' hybrids."

Tianyi drifted closer, her healing aura intensifying slightly, soothing the lingering soreness in my muscles. I exhaled, letting the warmth seep into my bones. She always knew when I needed that extra support, even when I tried to brush it off.

Despite the setbacks, there was something oddly calming about this process. I felt like the herbalist I used to be, before the Heavenly Interface changed everything. Back when it was just me and the forest, before spirit beasts, sect politics, and alchemy tournaments became the norm. The failures didn’t bother me as much as they might have back then. This was part of the work. Part of the journey.

I ran my fingers over the winter vine again, feeling the rough texture of its bark, its dormant energy barely clinging to life in the cold. This vine wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t aligned with yin energy, or skewed toward either. It was hardy but simple, growing wherever it could find a foothold, surviving on minimal resources. If any plant could handle an infusion of yang energy, it was this one.

"Okay," I whispered. "Let’s try this again."

I focused on the essence, holding it above the vine. Slowly, carefully, I released the essence, letting it drip down in small, controlled pulses. The vine trembled slightly, its tendrils reacting to the infusion, but it didn’t wilt. Not yet.

"That’s it," I murmured. "Slow and steady."

The vine absorbed the essence gradually, its bark darkening slightly as the energy soaked in. Tianyi watched closely from her perch, her wings fluttering gently in the breeze.

I still remember that day clearly. Much like today, I had been wandering the forest looking for Moonbeam Petals. Until I found her fluttering around daintily, and setting me off on a path that changed the trajectory of my life.

I glanced over at her now, seeing the strength she carried in her delicate frame. So much has changed since then.

The vine absorbed the last of the essence, its tendrils twitching as they adjusted to the new energy. This time, it hadn’t wilted. It was still alive.

Quest: Mastery of Spiritual Plant Cultivation

- Cultivate and grow fifty viable and different plant hybrids. (1/50)

I smiled at the notification, feeling a rush of excitement despite the exhaustion weighing down my limbs. Finally, some progress.

Tianyi fluttered closer, her presence warm and reassuring. I reached out to let her land on my finger. “Looks like we’re on the right track now.”

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As I gathered my tools and prepared to infuse more plants, I realized I had run out of cinnamon essence. With a sigh, I glanced around the forest, deciding it was time to gather more. The plants that thrived here were abundant, more so than I remembered from my herbalist days. The forest floor was blanketed in green life, even in the dead of winter. It struck me then how much the increased flow of qi through the province had changed the landscape. Everything was growing stronger, faster—like the world itself was waking up.

A cold gust of wind swept through the trees, carrying with it the scent of snow and something else, almost imperceptible. But I brushed it off. No need to be paranoid. It was winter, and most animals were hibernating, which explained the eerie silence in the woods.

Still, the absence of small critters scurrying through the underbrush felt… unnatural. I hadn’t seen so much as a bird or a squirrel since I entered the forest.

"Relax. It’s just winter. Animals hide away this time of year." I muttered to myself.

I kept walking, scanning the undergrowth for plants to infuse. Wintergreen, wild sage, frostroot—they all thrived here, and I could extract their essence easily enough. I knelt beside a patch of wild rosemary, its spindly leaves surviving against the odds in the frost. With a flick of my wrist, I drew out its essence, watching as the shimmering energy pooled in my palm. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Tianyi circling above, keeping an eye on the surroundings.

Still, no animals. The silence nagged at me, an uneasy weight settling in the pit of my stomach. It was far too quiet, even for this season. Not even a single birdcall.

I pressed on, delving deeper into the forest. As I walked, I infused different plants, carefully selecting each one for their properties, and testing new combinations. A few more failures followed; an ice thistle shriveled after I infused it with wild sage, and a winterflower’s petals withered when I combined it with frostroot, but I learned from each mistake.

“Alright,” I murmured as I knelt by another patch of wild rosemary, “one more infusion, and then I'll head back to go over the results.”

But just as I reached for the plant, Tianyi’s voice echoed sharply through our bond.

'Something’s coming.'

I froze, my fingers brushing the leaves of the rosemary. Her warning sent a chill down my spine, and I straightened, scanning the tree line.

A rustling in the bushes ahead. Something moved.

A young wolf stepped out, its fur matted and thin, ribs showing beneath its coat. Its eyes locked onto mine with a mix of fear and caution, as though it wasn’t sure whether to approach or flee. It hesitated, sniffing the air, then bared its fangs at me.

Tianyi fluttered down to my shoulder, her presence a comforting weight against the sudden tension in the air. The wolf was young, too young to be hunting alone. Where was its pack?

I stayed perfectly still, my eyes locked on the wolf as it observed me with a mix of fear and aggression. There was a desperate edge to its posture. One paw lifted hesitantly as if it wanted to flee but couldn’t afford to. Its nose twitched, catching my scent, and for a brief moment, I saw a flash of recognition in its eyes, but that only seemed to confuse it more.

"Tianyi," I whispered through our bond, my voice low and steady. "Can you try to calm it? Maybe we can avoid a fight."

She fluttered from my shoulder, her wings glowing faintly as she projected a calming aura toward the wolf. Her ability to communicate with animals hadn't failed yet, and I was hoping it would work now. Her essence spread like a gentle breeze, brushing against the wolf’s mind, trying to ease its tension.

But the wolf didn’t calm. Instead, it flinched, stepping back as if something about me repulsed it. It growled low in its throat, a sound that sent a ripple of unease through the quiet forest. Its eyes were wide with terror, and yet, instead of running, it lowered itself into a crouch, muscles coiled and ready to spring.

'It’s too scared,' The butterfly said, her mental voice tinged with concern. 'Not responding like most animals.'

"Dammit," I muttered under my breath, shifting my stance as the wolf prepared to lunge. I clenched my fists, shifting my stance. I didn’t want to hurt it. This wolf wasn’t a true threat, just a starved, frightened creature lashing out. But I couldn’t let it get too close.

The wolf charged.

It was fast, faster than I anticipated for something so weak. I barely had time to react, dodging to the side just as its jaws snapped at where my leg had been. The move was clumsy, driven by hunger and desperation more than skill, but it was enough to keep me on edge.

"We’ve got to subdue it—without killing it if we can," I called out to Tianyi, barely dodging another frantic lunge. My muscles screamed in protest, remnants of Elder Ming’s brutal training session dulling my edge.

She dove from the air, wings shimmering as she released another wave of soothing energy, but the wolf was too far gone. Whatever had been done to it, whatever had driven it to this point, had broken something inside its mind. It was too consumed by fear and hunger.

The wolf circled me, snarling, saliva dripping from its bared fangs. Its eyes were wild, darting between me and Tianyi, as if it was still unsure whether to attack or flee. Then, with a guttural growl, it made its choice.

It leapt.

I barely had time to think, only to act.

ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!

My body locked into position, my feet anchoring me to the earth as the wolf’s jaws snapped shut around my neck. But instead of the sharp, searing pain I expected, I felt only the tug of fabric—its teeth punctured my robes, but my skin remained unscathed.

The wolf thrashed violently, trying to tear into me, but I remained rooted, unmoving. The stance held firm, but it came with a cost—I couldn’t move either. All I could do was brace myself and wait for an opening.

Tianyi, seeing my predicament, didn’t hesitate. In a split second, she darted forward, her wings shimmering with a sharp edge of condensed qi. She struck with swift, deadly precision, slicing across the wolf’s eyes in one clean motion.

The wolf yelped in pain, its grip on my robe loosening as it stumbled back, blinded and weakened. I could see the agony in its movements, the way its body trembled with each step. It wasn’t long for this world now.

She fluttered beside me, her wings dimming as the threat faded.

I knelt beside the wolf, its body limp, its breaths shallow. There was no longer any fear in its eyes, only pain and confusion. My heart clenched. I hadn’t seen wolves in this forest for years, and now this young one had died alone, far from its home. I wasn’t angry—not at it, not even at the situation. Only sadness filled me.

Quickly scanning the forest floor, I spotted a patch of frostroot. I plucked a few leaves, crushing them in my fingers to release their essence. With gentle hands, I applied the essence to the wolf’s wounds, hoping to ease its passing, even if I couldn’t save it.

"It’s okay," I whispered, my voice soft. "You don’t have to fight anymore."

The wolf let out a low whine, its body shuddering as it struggled to take one last breath. I cradled its head in my lap, my hand resting gently on its thin neck. There was no anger in me, no resentment for the bite that could have been far worse.

This creature hadn’t stood a chance. It had been lost, scared, and starving. And now, it was passing on, not in a frenzy of violence, but with a moment of peace, surrounded by the quiet of the forest.

Its breathing slowed, then stopped altogether. I stayed there for a long moment, my hand resting on its fur.

Tianyi perched on my shoulder, her presence comforting but subdued.

'I’m sorry.'

"It’s not your fault," I murmured, brushing my hand gently over the wolf’s fur. "You saved me."

What had driven the creature to such desperation? It wasn’t injured, just starved—its fear palpable even in death.

I carefully examined its frail body but found nothing to explain its madness.

"I know," I murmured, glancing around the eerily quiet woods. "Something’s wrong here."

I couldn’t take the wolf back with me, so I decided to bury it. Slowly, I gathered dirt and snow, covering its small form with care. It was a simple act, but it felt right; an offering of peace after its life of suffering.

When I finished, I stood over the grave for a moment, hoping the wolf would find rest.

"It’s time to go," I said, turning back to the village. The forest had changed, it was no longer safe. I made a mental note to warn the others. Something dark was at work here, and the villagers needed to be cautious. No one should go out alone.

As Tianyi perched on my shoulder, we headed back. The path felt different now, more dangerous.

The world was shifting, and the forest was only the beginning.