A little more than a hundred years have passed since then… The world soon forgot the little enclosure and its unique pink tree.

Silently, the tree spirit glanced around, expanding its view.

He could ‘see’ a bit further today. Over to the West was a steep drop down to an abyss, and to the North was charred granite, that hinted at the misfortunes that had fallen that night.

The tree spirit was worried, they never returned. Were they okay? How were the small naughty ones that tried to climb on his back? How was the sadistic old man that boiled his organs for tea? There were so many of them… and they just... disappeared.

They left.

For the first time in a hundred years, the tree spirit lost hope.

Because maybe… just maybe… they won’t come back.

Saddened by this, the tree … ‘wept’.

Its luscious pink leaves turned an ugly dull colour and seemed to quiver in sadness.

Yet, the tree wasn’t allowed to dwell in self-pity for long.

A small battered and wounded child fell.

The small thing stumbled down boulders from an unused and obscure entrance. The child’s body shivered in pain and tried its best to get up.

The tree spirit looked on curiously, was this one of the children from back then? The small figure looked unfamiliar though and he wasn’t wearing the signature robes that they’d worn.

The child did get up after much pains as if aided by fear, but stopped abruptly when his line of sight landed on the pink tree. Seemingly in shock. The child paused for a while before hesitatingly approaching the tree. Every so often he would look backward at the spot he’d fallen from as if terrified that a predator would eat him and crawled faster towards the tree.

Finally, at the bottom of the tree, he carefully touched the weird looking tree.

He climbed it.

It was a bit of a shock to the tree spirit. How many years has it been since anyone had been so bold? He didn’t really like the small scuttering paws on his torso, but it bought with it a wave of nostalgia.

So, he’d let it be.

*plop*

Small droplets of blood splattered on the bark. The small child collapsed on a steady platform on his body. His faint breaths were short and uneven. He was injured!

Blood kept dripping profusely.

The tree spirit panicked.

If the child was injured why didn’t he find help? Why was he here? There wasn’t anyone nearby! The nearest village was down the mountain! Was he going to die on him???? What if the sect came back and think that he was a man-eating spirit tree??? They might cut him down! QAQ

The stories the old man told did have mysterious trees that ate cultivators. What did he say again? Oh right, “Kill on sight.” QAQ I’m not at fault!!!! I can explain!!

The tree spirit continued to panic which made the surrounding spiritual energy fluctuate aggressively.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Don’t die little human!!!! The tree spirit screamed internally, but what could he do? He was just a bloody tree. Literally now. Trees don’t do much.

Wait. Correction. He’s a spirit tree. They do a little bit.

Uhh! But what? It’s not like he could brew his organs and make tea for the boy! He didn’t really fancy the idea of burning his limbs or making a pot…where was he going to get fire??? Or water???? He couldn’t move anything anyways… besides, he hadn’t made any flowers yet!!

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“ When injured, circulating internal energy may allow the physical body to heal better…”

Mysteriously, the tree spirit remembered the old man’s words in one of his tales. But would a tree’s spiritual energy work on a human child? He was going to find out…

Unsurely, the tree spirit enveloped the tiny human in his spiritual energy and tried to course them through the boy’s wounds. Slowly the bleeding stopped and the boy’s breaths even out to a steady rhythm.

It wasn’t perfect. The tree spirit did accidentally course them through the wrong meridians a few times… He’s trying his best, okay?

Time passed and eventually, the boy woke up. It was nightfall by then, but the tree gave a surprising soft glow.

The pain the child felt before was gone, his wounds were closed and his frame was still enveloped in a comfortable embrace.

The boy’s eyes widen as he saw the unfamiliar scenery and hurriedly surveyed his surroundings. His eyes darted to every corner that his small yet wide eyes could see despite the lack of light. When he found that he was alone, his frame seemed to collapse in relief.

This was all weird to the tree spirit. What was the boy scared of? But by the state on his lithe body, littered in injuries… What cruel creature did this to him? A demon beast? Some did seem like claw marks… but others were external like rope burns?

*sniffle*

The tree spirit was still lost in thought when the boy started crying.

His small figure was curled in a ball as hot tears dripped onto his soiled clothes. The small incoherent wails soon grew louder but still hushed in fear of alerting any wild beasts.

“Mom….Dad….” He cried out.

His tiny shoulders shook pitifully.

The tree spirit watched on at a loss. He wants to comfort the small child but didn’t know how. All he could do was continue to envelop the child in his spiritual energy. Hoping that it would at least ease the child’s body and protect him from the cold.

Soft wails continued till the depths of the cold spring night… One child and one tree were together atop a lonely mountain peak, somehow comforting each other as the cold wind blew by.

XXX

Dawn came and the night faded, yet the small child remained peacefully asleep. The tree spirit that watched over the small child seemed to sigh in relief. When the child wakes up, he could travel to a village nearby and maybe the other humans would care for him. Then he would be fine.

When the child woke up, it was late morning. His face and clothes were in a terrible state, but what shocked the tree spirit were the ruthlessness hidden in his eyes. The child returned to being eerily calm as he scanned his surroundings once again. He stood and gazed at the pink tree that housed him for the night.

“Thank you…” He whispered before he climbed down and disappeared into the woods.

What an odd child, the tree spirit pondered. At least he’s well-mannered… Hmm? Did he talk to me? Does he know that I’m conscious?

The child didn’t leave immediately. He built a makeshift hut and lived close by for a period of time. Every day, he would gather berries and vegetation to eat, every so often there would be small wild animals that he’d caught.

Maybe he hasn’t found the village nearby? The tree spirit reasoned. Seeing the child live so unusually bothered him a bit.

The days passed peacefully for a while. Every morning and evening, the child would practice some martial arts by the tree. He would do it vigorously at times as if agitated and exhaust himself. When this happens the tree spirit would be generous and nourish the child with some spiritual energy. He was fond of the little human. Although he definitely wasn’t a child of the sect he remembered, since the martial arts they practiced differed, he was a …good company. He would talk sometimes.

He didn’t leave even after he found the village. Although he did start trading herbs and some vegetables he grew with the villagers. Afterward, he made weird looking potions with some herbs…and his flowers and leaves! The child was polite when he picked them… but it’s still weird.

The little human’s relationship with the villagers was lukewarm at best. He didn’t seem to be making many friends.

The tree spirit was worried for a while. It seems that he would get into fights with other village children once in a while. No, it wasn’t that he’d return tattered. The tree spirit’s spiritual scanning ability just got better. He’d observe the child as he goes down the mountain and meets with small bullying gangs. His little human would win of course. So, he’d stopped worrying. Other ‘wild’ humans are not welcome to bully the human under his care!

But when winter came after a tough famine, the child had little source of food. He ran out of stuff to trade in the village, and the villagers themselves had a food shortage. He would starve for days before being successful at hunting some wildlife.

The tree spirit thought hard and long on how to help the little child when he thought maybe he’d give some of his leaves and flowers for him to eat. The tree spirit was very reluctant, but he did remember that they were nourishing in some ways.

So, when flowers bloomed in dead winter, the child was more than surprised. The tree spirit then tried luring the child to them by attempting to ‘pull’ the little human towards them with spiritual force! He got that skill recently, he could move pebbles now!

The child was reluctant at first but ate them eventually. The tree spirit also tried his best to make the leaves ‘plumper’ by directing more starch and water there.

It was a really weird sight. Plump round leaves and flowers hanging on a tree as fluttering white snow fell in a winter plain.

Eventually, the child grew and left.

The tree spirit watched as the little human packed up what little he had, longingly.

The young human said that he was going to be enrolled in a recruiting sect faraway and will come back when he has the chance to…after he’d avenge those close to him.

It has been about two hundred years since the little human left.