Tao knelt in the garden, his palms pressed against the soil, steady and calm. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, but his hands never wavered as they prepared to channel his Qi. The decay in the plants was extensive—yellowed leaves, shrivelled stems, and roots barely clinging to life. The air around him felt heavy with the weight of failure. Elder Hua’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind: Prove yourself, or your place here will be reconsidered.
A deep breath. Tao inhaled, pulling the breath deep into his abdomen, his body grounding itself. He finally managed to let go of the lingering anger that clouded his mind.
The Nurturing Cycle Root Technique had come a long way since its creation. Tao could now guide his Qi with precision, splitting it into streams that nourished both the roots and the rain.
The air around him grew still as a fine drizzle of Qi infused rain began to fall. The droplets shimmered faintly, soaking into the soil and spreading life giving energy. At the same time, Tao directed a portion of his Qi into the roots, weaving it carefully to stabilize the plants’ foundations.
Slowly, the brittle leaves softened, their green hue returning. The stems straightened, and the plants stood upright once more. The potency of the technique was evident on mortal grade plants. If the plants hadn’t been extensively damaged, they would be filled with vitality at this point.
Tao wiped the sweat from his brow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That’s a start.”
But his peace was short lived.
A familiar voice, cool and unyielding, broke through the quiet.
“You’ve been busy,” Lian said, stepping into the garden with her usual confident stride.
Tao turned, his expression softening. “Trying to fix the damage Wei caused.”
Lian raised an eyebrow. “You’re handling it well. Hua will notice, eventually. But if you want to make a real impression, you need more than restored plants.”
Tao frowned, a deep crease forming between his brows. “I’ve already thought of that.”
Lian leaned against a nearby post, her eyes thoughtful. “You have? Well, I look forward to seeing the results then”
Later that day, Tao stood in the Herb Pavilion, his heart pounding in his chest like the beating of a war drum. In his hands, he held a carefully crafted scroll—its parchment smooth and the ink fresh. The scroll detailed the mortal grade technique he had developed, the Nurturing Cycle Technique. He had considered submitting the more potent version—the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique, which could nurture even Profound plants—but in the end, he decided against it. If he presented the advanced technique, he would stand out, but it would also draw attention he wasn’t ready for. The mortal grade version would mask his true capabilities, blending in with the others while subtly displaying his ingenuity. No one would be able to tell the difference at first glance.
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“Elder Hua,” Tao began, bowing deeply. “I’ve been working on a technique to improve plant restoration and growth. I believe it could be of use to the sect.”
Hua’s sharp eyes flicked to the scroll, her expression unreadable. “You’ve already caused enough trouble in the garden, Tao. What makes you think this will change anything?”
Tao swallowed his nerves and held out the scroll. “The technique has already restored some of the damaged plants. It uses Qi to generate a rain infused with spiritual energy that nourishes plants while simultaneously enriching the soil to promote healthier growth and faster recovery. If you’d allow me to demonstrate...”
Hua studied him for a moment before snatching the scroll from his hands. “We’ll see if this is worth my time,” she said curtly. “You’re not off the hook yet.”
Tao followed her out of the pavilion, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Hua led him to a corner of the garden to a row of Blood Red Orchids.
“These are useful for alchemy and healing medicine. I suggest you try your technique on these mortal grade plants. While they may seem humble, if you cause them to wither, Tao…”
A bead of sweat formed on Tao’s forehead as the weight of her words settled in. He slowly started to channel his Qi, summoning the familiar shimmer of the Nurturing Cycle Technique. The rain fell softly, the droplets like tiny threads of life, sinking into the earth. His Qi seeped into the soil, strengthening it, enriching it with every breath he took.
The plants slowly started to respond. Their flowers deepened in colour, turning an even richer shade of crimson, their vitality blooming.
Hua knelt by the plants, inspecting them with a critical eye. After a long silence, she stood, her expression unreadable.
“The technique is... inventive,” she admitted grudgingly. “It shows potential for wider use in the Herb Pavilion. I’ll award you sect points for its submission, but don’t think this absolves you of your earlier mistakes.”
She paused, her eyes narrowing. “This is not a unique technique, Tao. There are similar techniques in the sect’s library. But you’ve managed to combine two different methods, enhancing the effect of both and making it applicable to a wider range of plants.”
Tao bowed deeply, relief flooding through him. “Thank you, Elder Hua. I’ll continue to improve.”
Hua’s sharp gaze softened slightly. “See that you do.”
That night, Tao returned to his quarters, the weight of the day’s events still pressing on him. The Moonlit Ferns had grown visibly stronger, their silvery leaves glowing faintly even without direct Qi.
Tao knelt beside them, his hands hovering over the pots as he activated the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique. The rain fell gently, and the ferns seemed to pulse with energy, their roots anchoring deeper into the enriched soil.
“They’re almost ready,” Tao murmured, his voice tinged with pride. “One more session, and they’ll be strong enough to move.”
The thought of planting them in the Spirit Mountain filled him with anticipation.