The sky was still faintly tinted with dawn's first light as Li Qingyun soared through the clouds atop his Cloudveil Sword. Below, mist clung to the trees like breath to a mirror, the rolling hills slowly giving way to a quiet stretch of land nestled between low ridges and gently flowing streams.
This was Green Willow Basin—a peaceful-sounding name for a place known in sect records for its wandering spirit beasts and spiritual herb growth.
The basin lay nestled between two forested ridges, its lush greenery wreathed in morning haze. Willows drooped lazily over bubbling creeks, and the scent of damp earth mingled with faint medicinal fragrances. Despite its tranquil name, Green Willow Basin pulsed faintly with spiritual energy—tame yet vigilant.
Li Qingyun guided his Cloudveil Sword to a slow hover above the canopy before gently descending to a grassy clearing near a low stream. As his boots touched the earth, he paused, letting the ambient energy wash over him.
His outer sect robe flapped softly in the wind, his long hair tied neatly behind him. In his right hand, he held the task token issued by the Task Hall earlier that morning:
[Task: Herb Gathering in Green Willow Basin]
Location: Green Willow Basin (2.5 miles southeast of the sect gate)
Reward: 8 Contribution Points + Sect-grade Spirit Herb Allocation
Note: Collect fresh Blueleaf Grass, MoonrootBulbs, and Starvine. Submit undamaged specimens.
It was a simple task, but not without merit. Tasks like this were recommended for newly inducted disciples not only to familiarize them with the local environment—but to observe their caution, attention to detail, and ability to move through spiritual ecosystems without damaging the land.
"…Wind and water flow naturally. Good soil. High humidity. Moonroot must be near the deeper stream pockets."
With practiced calm, he began his search.
The first target was BlueleafGrass—a common medicinal herb known for its sharp scent and azure-hued blades. It typically grew in shaded areas under tall trees, especially where fallen leaves thickened the soil.
Li Qingyun swept through several glades until his senses tingled faintly. He stopped beneath a towering willow and knelt.
There it was.
A healthy cluster of BlueleafGrass, vibrant and untouched. He withdrew a small crescent-bladed digging knife and carefully loosened the soil. His hands were steady, his breath calm.
"If I damage the root crown, it loses medicinal potency. And they won't accept crushed stems either."
One by one, he placed the herbs into a small spirit-inscribed wooden box lined with gentle cooling arrays. He collected twelve perfect specimens—more than the minimum required.
Next came the MoonrootBulbs.
These were trickier. Unlike surface plants, MoonrootBulbs burrowed slightly into riverbanks or pond edges, drawing yin-aligned qi from still waters. They only bloomed once every few weeks and were extremely sensitive to heat.
After over half an hour of scouting along the quiet stream, he spotted silvery leaves brushing the water's edge like crescent moons.
"Found you."
Carefully, he stepped into the shallow water and used a water-qi thread from his finger to part the mud. He saw three bulbs nestled gently beneath the roots of a larger fern. With subtle earth-qi guidance, he extracted them in one piece and stowed them securely.
His robe was damp at the hem, but he didn't mind. Each success brought him a quiet satisfaction.
Starvine was the most elusive.
A creeping vine with faintly glowing nodes, it only grew on trees exposed to starlight. In daylight, its luminescence faded, making it hard to detect. Fortunately, Li Qingyun's divine sense and refined spiritual perception allowed him to detect its unique pulse.
After following a faint trace deeper into the basin, he came upon a low tree with curling tendrils hugging the bark.
Faint pulses of light flickered beneath the vine's skin.
"Starvine."
He drew a short curved blade and used his sword control technique to suspend the vine as he detached it with expert care. Not one node was crushed, not one leaf misplaced.
Three Starvine strips joined the other herbs in his collection box.
With all three herbs gathered, Li Qingyun sat on a stone outcrop overlooking the still basin. The sun was high now, and the mist had long lifted. Birdsong returned to the air, and gentle wind stirred the trees.
'Tasks like these train more than just strength. Observation, patience, precision... this is also cultivation.'
Just as he was preparing to depart, a ripple pulsed faintly through his divine sense.
His brow furrowed.
That's… dense spiritual energy. Rich and unusually concentrated. He closed his eyes, extending his divine sense outward like invisible threads. The sensation was subtle—hidden beneath layers of root and soil—but unmistakably alive.
Silently, he rose to his feet and traced the signature, weaving carefully through moss-covered rocks and thick brush until he reached a shaded hollow between two boulders. A soft hum of qi trembled through the ground.
There—half-buried beneath a gnarled tree—was a stunted, white-veined plant resembling ginseng, but with translucent roots and a faint golden sheen at its tips. Its qi pulsed erratically, as though on the verge of transformation.
It's evolving, Li Qingyun realized. It hasn't finished evolving yet.
He didn't recognize the plant by name—it wasn't in the herb list provided by the sect—but its energy suggested something valuable, perhaps even rare. However, what drew his attention next was the disturbance it had caused.
Within moments, his divine sense picked up the presence of movement—four-legged beasts slinking through the underbrush, wings brushing branches overhead, eyes glinting with hunger.
Spirit beasts.
More than a dozen, some alone, some in groups, were converging from different directions. His breath slowed. Judging from their fluctuating spiritual pressure, most were Rank 1—low-level, but not mindless. A few were aggressive omnivores drawn by instinct to any rich spiritual herb.
Li Qingyun immediately withdrew into the underbrush, masking his presence. His Phantom Step Art allowed him to vanish like a shadow behind wind-blown leaves, and he observed silently from a high perch.
The ginseng-like herb trembled, its golden glow slowly intensifying. Still not ripe. Still incomplete.
The beasts settled around the basin like a loose cordon—snarling and watching one another.
It'll be a bloodbath when it matures.
And so, he waited.
Minutes bled into an hour, then two. Birds dared not sing now. The air hung tense and sharp.
Finally, the moment came.
The herb gave a pulse—a crisp chime of spiritual resonance only cultivators or spirit beasts could perceive. Its outer sheath peeled like silk, revealing golden-white filaments curling in the air like smoke.
A beast lunged first—a tusked boar-like creature with bristling fur and heavy legs. The moment it charged, chaos broke loose. Claws slashed. Wings beat furiously. Roars shattered the stillness as every beast dove into the fray for the chance to devour the treasure.
Now.
Li Qingyun's form blurred into motion.
His Phantom Step Art ignited fully—his presence almost nonexistent, moving like water between strikes and crashes of beastly bodies. In the blink of an eye, he shot forward.
With precise grace, his hand closed around the glowing herb. He didn't stop to examine it. In one smooth movement, he sealed it into a spirit-inscribed container, snapped it shut, and bolted.
A monstrous howl erupted behind him. The air split with furious roars as several spirit beasts turned in pursuit—but it was already too late.
With a single command, his Cloudveil Sword appeared beneath his feet.
He soared upward, a crimson blur flashing through the trees. Wind snapped around him as he ascended sharply. Below, the beasts thrashed in anger, crashing into the forest, but none had the means to follow.
He did not glance back.
---
By the time he passed through the protective barrier near the Sky-Reaching Sword Sect gate, his robe was stained with forest dust and his breath slightly quickened—but his grip was steady.
The herb was safe. Untouched.