The days that followed the secret sowing of the Moonpetal Leaf seeds stretched into a quiet agony—an anxious balance between hope and dread. Each morning, before the sun's pale edge crested the Serpent's Coil Hills, Lu Chenyuan and Shen Yue would slip into the secluded corner of their courtyard. Cloaked in the mundane task of weeding a stubborn patch of overgrowth, Shen Yue would kneel and channel her purest Wood Spirit Qi into the soil, her brow creased in concentration, her murmured incantations soft and soothing, like morning mist coaxing life from slumbering roots. Beside her, Lu Chenyuan stood sentinel, every sense taut, eyes sweeping over crumbling walls and sagging eaves, ears straining for the slightest hint of a stranger's approach.
But the soil gave nothing back. The six precious seeds remained dormant, hidden beneath layers of enriched earth and ordinary weeds. No stir of life broke the surface. Doubt, cold and coiling, began to wind its way through Lu Chenyuan's chest. Had they overreached? Had desperation made them foolish? Were the seeds faulty, or was their method—a patchwork of old texts, half-memories, and instinct—simply too crude for such rare and delicate flora?
The thirty-five spirit stones and six Qi Nourishing Pills they had stashed away lay untouched, a mute, ever-present weight. Their carefully maintained illusion of destitution wore thin from the effort it required. Each sparse meal, each patched robe, was a performance—one that became harder to uphold with every day the seeds refused to grow.
And always, behind it all, the specter of Shadow Hand Xue loomed. Uncle Liu, whose face had aged perceptibly in recent weeks, brought back troubling whispers from the Serpent's End Market.
"Chenyuan," he said one evening, voice barely a breath, "the investigator—Xue—his focus is narrowing. The gossip says he's no longer digging through old feuds or idle rivalries. He's started combing through clans… any clan with even a faint legacy of alchemy or spiritual botany. Especially those with ties to rare plants."
Lu Chenyuan's chest went hollow.
The Azurewood Lin Clan—once noble, now decaying—had been built on Wood cultivation. Its spiritual art, though tattered by time, was rooted in plant affinity. Their alchemical knowledge had faded into near-oblivion, but the clan's connection to spiritual flora was etched into their bones. If Xue cast his net wide enough, deep enough, the Lin name might yet surface.
"He's not just hunting culprits," Lu Chenyuan murmured, his mind turning rapidly. "He's hunting capability. Someone who could have brewed a lure, or tailored poison to a spirit beast's weakness. If he pulls old records… if he connects the lineage to the right plants..."
He trailed off, jaw tight. Waiting was no longer viable. If the serpent wished to live, it had to shift the hunter's gaze. Quietly. Carefully. Without leaving a trail.
"Uncle Liu," he said, his voice calm but colder than before, "we need to offer him another scent to follow. Something more convincing. A better target."
Uncle Liu's eyes widened, aghast. "A scapegoat? Chenyuan… that's dangerous. Reckless."
"Not a scapegoat," Lu Chenyuan replied, measured. "A decoy. One that plausibly fits his new criteria. There's a clan—small, nearly forgotten—called the Willowisp Deng. They live on the far eastern fringe of the Serpent's Coil Hills. Generations ago, they cultivated a luminous fungus with minor hallucinogenic properties if mishandled. Nothing impressive, but enough to leave a mark in some ancient registry."
He paused, recalling the dusty scroll that had first mentioned them—barely more than a footnote in a Lin Clan ledger.
Shen Yue, silent until now, finally spoke. "You would use them?" Her voice was soft, but the undercurrent of unease was unmistakable.
"Not directly," Lu Chenyuan said. "But if an anonymous tip reached one of Xue's informants… suggesting an old Deng elder was recently seen trading a glowing fungus for alchemy tools, muttering about 'sharpening perception for rare beasts'... it would fit Xue's theory neatly. A mystery solved, a trail to chase—far from us."
It was a cold move, and he knew it. It risked throwing a quiet, declining clan into the path of a man who destroyed lives with whispers. But it was a path he would walk, if it meant shielding Shen Yue—and everything they were trying to build.
With grim understanding, Uncle Liu nodded. Lu Chenyuan tasked him with threading the tip through several intermediaries, ensuring the trail was crooked, untraceable. A whisper meant to ripple outward, drawing Xue away like a hawk chasing a glint in the grass.
While that subtle deception unfolded, Shen Yue remained steadfast in her cultivation and care of the hidden soil. Her grasp of Wood Spirit Qi had refined beautifully, her flow more precise, her presence calmer. She was now nearing the Third Layer of Qi Refinement. With every session, she began to perceive things even Lu Chenyuan could not—shifts in the earth, murmurs of potential within the seedbed. Her Spiritual Root awakening reached 48%.
And then, one pale pre-dawn, nearly six weeks after the planting, it happened.
Shen Yue knelt, eyes shut, hands hovering over the soil. Lu Chenyuan watched her in silence, heart pounding with the brittle edge of exhausted hope.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes flew open—wide, shining. A gasp escaped her, equal parts joy and disbelief.
"Chenyuan!" she whispered, pointing. "There—under the clover—look!"
He dropped beside her, eyes searching the patch where she pointed.
And then he saw it.
A sprout. Incredibly fine—no thicker than a hair, silvery-green, almost glowing. It pierced the earth like a moonlit needle, quivering faintly with the pulse of pure Wood Qi. Ethereal. Alive. A Moonpetal Leaf. Not a dream. Not a theory.
Real.
One. One of six had taken root.
Lu Chenyuan's breath shuddered in his chest. He reached out, fingertips trembling, and touched the soil beside the sprout. It thrummed with vitality—concentrated, focused, pure in a way that made his skin tingle.
[System Notification: First Moonpetal Leaf successfully sprouted due to Host's strategic planning and Wife Shen Yue's dedicated nurturing. Unique Grade Two Spiritual Herb cultivation initiated. Clan Resources (Potential) +50. Clan Vitality +5. Host receives significant insight into rare herb germination and specialized geomantic enrichment. Wife Shen Yue's affinity with Moonpetal Leaf established; nurturing effectiveness +20%. Clan Prosperity Meter: 35/100.]
A flood of insight rushed through him—patterns of Qi flow, the fine balance of moisture and spiritual resonance required, the rare geomantic harmonies that made it possible. It was the largest jump in their Clan Prosperity Meter to date.
Lu Chenyuan let out a slow, incredulous laugh, half-choked with emotion.
"One is enough," he said softly. "One proves it's possible. You did it, Shen Yue. We did it."
She was staring at the sprout, tears glittering in her eyes. "It's… beautiful," she whispered. "So fragile. But so full of life."
It was more than a plant. More than a resource. It was proof that their efforts, their sacrifices, meant something. That from the shadows they were forced to dwell in, something bright could still grow. It was a secret bloom in a garden surrounded by threat. A sign that they weren't merely surviving—they were beginning, cautiously, to hope.
But hope is rarely left to blossom in peace.
Just as the quiet joy settled between them, the sudden, piercing clang of their Qi Disturbance Array split the air.
It was sharper this time. Urgent.
Lu Chenyuan and Shen Yue froze.
Another visitor. This early, and with such an aggressive signal?
Their eyes met, alarm unspoken but mutual. Had their deception failed? Had the seed of misdirection not grown fast enough?
Or had a different predator, drawn by Li Jian's lingering bounty, finally arrived at their door?
The Moonpetal sprout shimmered quietly between them, unaware. Hope had bloomed—but the shadow that surrounded it had not yet lifted.