Tao held fruit in his hand watching it carefully as he calmed himself. He needed to focus, to make sure nothing went wrong. Jian had succeeded but he had been stronger than Tao to begin with. Tao was only just catching up with his cultivation.

The fruit pulsed with an eerie warmth, as if alive, waiting, no, daring him to consume it.

Jian, still recovering from his ordeal, wiped sweat from his brow and gave a tired nod. “It will be violent,” he warned. “The Qi will tear through you. You must endure.”

Tao smirked. "You nearly died, but you came out stronger. What makes you think I can’t?"

Jian chuckled, shaking his head. “Just don’t let arrogance get you killed.”

Tao took a deep breath and bit into the fruit.

The moment the juice touched his tongue, an explosion erupted in his meridians. It was nothing like Jian’s experience.

The energy was wild. Chaotic. Unruly.

Where Jian had been cleansed and refined, Tao’s body felt as if it were being ripped apart, reshaped, rebuilt all at once. His blood burned, his bones groaned under the pressure.

And then, something cracked. Qi flooded into him like a tidal wave, drowning his senses.

Tao’s consciousness blurred. He saw visions, a vast mountain shrouded in mist, ancient cultivators meditating beneath it. He felt the jade mountain in his dantian resonate violently, its energy surging into his meridians, forcefully reconfiguring his foundation. It was using the energy from the fruit as a catalyst to change him.

This wasn’t just purification.

Jian’s voice sounded distant, panicked. “Tao! Your Qi, it’s out of control!”

Tao’s body convulsed, his veins glowing with an ethereal light. The cave trembled as Qi storms whipped through the air. The Golden Root Orchid at their feet shrivelled and blackened, its essence devoured by the phenomenon.

Jian cursed and activated his sword, prepared to intervene, but then, suddenly, the storm stopped.

Tao’s body stabilized. The overwhelming energy settled, sinking into his dantian.

And when Tao opened his eyes, they burned with a new brilliance.

Then he was gone.

The world around him shifted.

Tao was no longer in the cave. He stood upon an enormous mountain, shrouded in mist, the very air humming with unfathomable power. The mist swirled and convulsed, shifting into a lithe fox, its nine silver tails flickering like celestial fire.

Shenli.

The ancient guardian of the Jade Mountain regarded Tao with an amused smirk.

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“What took you so long, kid? Without my intervention, you’d still be fumbling around at the third layer like a blind rat.”

His golden eyes gleamed with mockery. “Such poor talent.”

Tao’s breath came in sharp gasps as he scrambled to his feet, his mind still reeling from the sudden shift. “What happened to Jian? Why am I here all of a sudden?”

Shenli’s tails swayed lazily. “What do you think happened? You broke through to the fourth layer, and the mountain claimed you. A mere coincidence? Or fate? Who can say?”

Tao gritted his teeth. “Enough riddles. Why am I here?”

Shenli yawned, the silver flames of his tails curling in the mist. “You are here because the Jade Mountain has acknowledged you.”

His voice turned cold. “But recognition alone is meaningless. If you lack the ability to wield the mountain’s gifts, you are no better than a frog at the bottom of a well.”

Tao’s fists clenched. “Then test me.”

Shenli grinned. “Oh? You wish for trials?”

The air trembled, and before Tao could react, an unseen force slammed into him, sending him crashing to the ground. The mist coiled around him like living chains, tightening, suffocating, his Qi froze, his body immobile.

Shenli’s voice rang out, calm yet merciless. “Without strength, even the greatest opportunity is a shackle. If you wish to ascend, then prove yourself.”

The mist pressed down, but Tao gritted his teeth. “I won’t be crushed.”

He forced his Qi to surge, pushing back against the mist, his dantian flaring with renewed power. A low hum filled the air as the Jade Mountain within him resonated, its pulse growing stronger, defiant.

The pressure vanished.

Shenli chuckled. “Better. You are not completely useless.”

Tao rose to his feet, panting. He had barely held his own, yet there was no triumph in Shenli’s gaze. Only expectation.

“For reaching the Fourth Layer, the mountain grants you gifts. If you squander them, I’ll have a good laugh.”

A scroll materialized before Tao, floating in mid-air.

Tao reached out, the scroll unfurling on its own. Golden characters shimmered across the parchment.

Fertile Spirit Nurturing Art, a Heaven grade plant cultivation technique. With this, spirit herbs will grow in half the time, their essence purified to perfection.

Tao’s heart pounded. A Heaven grade technique? Even sect elders would kill for something like this!

A second scroll formed beside it.

Emerald Vine Puppet Arts, a technique that grants control over plants, transforming them into weapons, shields, and sentient constructs of war.

Tao’s eyes widened. This was no ordinary reward. The ability to wield plants as extensions of himself.

Shenli’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Your mission is simple. Nurture Heaven grade spirit plants in the Lower Herb Garden.”

Tao frowned. “That’s it?”

Shenli sneered. “You think it’s easy? The Lower Herb Garden has been abandoned for decades. A desolate wasteland. If you can revive it, then perhaps you are worth something.”

He snapped his tails. The mist collapsed inward and before him stood a dilapidated wooden gate, worn and faded.

Shenli had not lied. The place was a ruin. The soil was dry, lifeless, the air thick with the scent of decay. Vines choked what little greenery remained, and a lone dilapidated shack slumped at the far end.

Tao stepped forward, pushing the gate open with a groan. He walked towards the shack pushing the crooked door open. Dust billowed into the air, thick with the scent of ancient parchment and forgotten knowledge. The inside of the shack was filled with books, their covers embossed with gold characters.

He reached for one, its title catching his eye.

Herbology: The Art of Spirit Flora

Tao exhaled slowly.

This was his task.

He had no allies. No guidance. Only the Fertile Spirit Nurturing Art, the Emerald Vine Puppet Arts, and the ruined land before him.

But he had always been an outcast, had always clawed his way forward despite the odds.

Tao’s fingers tightened around the book.

If the Jade Mountain demanded he prove himself, then he would.

Even if he had to drag the Lower Herb Garden back to life with his own hands.