The blue sky stretched endlessly, bathed in the blazing sunlight. Among the mountain ranges surrounding the valley, a breeze blew down, bringing a faint coolness, rustling the leaves and blooming flowers in the medicinal garden belonging to Medicine Valley, part of the Dao Sect.
In the center of the garden stood a young man named Hun Yan. Sweat beaded on his face, but his eyes were clear and calm. He gazed at the rows of colorful spiritual flowers flourishing in the sunlight, as if their beauty ignited his passion.
Two other young disciples stood to his left and right. Their faces were flushed from the heat, their hands busy wiping away sweat. Unlike Hun Yan, they appeared restless and uninterested in this first day of training.
Before them, a young man dressed in simple attire stood with a straight posture. His gaze was calm yet sharp, and although he lacked any arrogance, his aura made others instinctively respect him. He was Zhang Li, the senior brother who had guided them that day.
"You must be careful," Zhang Li said in a clear voice that rang clear through the heat. "The spiritual herbs here are all highly valued. When picking them, don't pull them from the roots. Just cut them from the base of the stem. Afterward, wrap them in Spirit-Protecting Paper to prevent the Qi from evaporating."
The other two disciples listened halfheartedly, but Hun Yan stood still, listening intently to every word. In his hands were already clutching a pair of small scissors and a piece of white paper. He didn't want to miss a single detail.
For some in the sect, working in this valley was merely a menial task. Many ridiculed his choice, considering him lazy and unambitious. But Hun Yan knew this was his first step. He didn't choose the path of the sword or the arts because he believed that true strength could grow from an understanding of nature, the body, and life itself.
Zhang Li finally nodded lightly. "Now it's your turn. Choose a plant and pick it according to my method. I will judge the results."
Hun Yan lowered his head and slowly crouched down. In front of him grew a soft purple spiritual flower, its petals emitting a subtle light. Carefully, he regulated his breathing, then raised the scissors in his hand. Each movement was slow, almost soundless—as if he were conversing with the plant through careful consideration.
In the silence of the valley, bathed in the midday light, a stalk of spiritual flower was cleanly severed. As Hun Yan wrapped it in the Spirit Protection Paper, a faint smile appeared on his face.
Hun Yan placed the Spirit Protection Paper in his hand and slowly reached for the red flower stalk in front of him. His fingertips paused for a moment, as if calming his breathing before acting.
"Brother, you seem too tense," a light voice sounded beside him. The lavishly dressed youth in a silver-embroidered robe smiled faintly. "There's no need to be so careful. Even if you cut it wrong, it's fine. It's just a first-rate medicinal herb. In my house, even the servants wouldn't dare touch such a plant."
The person was Ren Yan, one of the new disciples standing to Hun Yan's right. His attire alone made it clear that he came from a distinguished family.
Indeed, of the three, only Hun Yan came from a humble background. The other two had great family bloodlines, but despite their wealth, their spiritual roots were the same—ordinary Five Element Roots, without the slightest distinction. That was why they were only accepted into the Dao Sect as Utility Disciples, just like him.
However, unlike Ren Yan, who appeared indifferent, Hun Yan remained calm. He didn't respond to the taunt, not even sparing a glance. His focus was completely focused on the red flower trembling lightly before his eyes.
His hand moved slowly—he gently pinched the stem, then cut it right at the base. Once cut, he quickly wrapped the bottom with Spirit Protection Paper, ensuring that not a single trace of Spiritual Qi evaporated.
He took a deep breath, stared at his work for a moment, then stepped forward and handed it to Zhang Li.
Zhang Li accepted the flower, examined the cut closely, and nodded slightly.
"Good," he said, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "You are meticulous and careful—that's an important trait for a medicine valley disciple."
Hun Yan bowed slightly in respect, but didn't answer. He returned his gaze to the red flower in his teacher's hand, his eyes glinting faintly. There was something inside him—an indescribable tension, as if he were waiting for something to happen.
And just then, a thin light flashed across the edge of his vision.
A line of text invisible to anyone but himself appeared in the air, faint but clear:
[You have successfully absorbed 1 year of lifespan from the Red Spirit Flower (Grade 1)]
In an instant, his heart beat faster. But immediately after, her lips curved into a small, hard-to-hide smile. A subtle sense of relief crept into her chest—a feeling only she could understand.
Hun Yan knew that this strange power within him didn't come from a technique or elixir, but from his ability to rob the lifespan of beings possessing Spiritual Qi.
He still clearly remembered the first time this power emerged at the age of ten. He had accidentally stepped on a spirit flower growing in the backyard of the servants' quarters. As its petals shattered, his body was suddenly filled with warmth—and he had aged twelve years.
From that day on, he understood… that even the smallest life of a flower had value—and that its power, however mysterious and dangerous, was the only reason he was still alive today.
Under the sunlight, Hun Yan gazed at the red flower, which had now lost some of its radiance.
He gently clasped his fingers together, then smiled faintly.
"This path may be dirty, but for me… it's the only way to survive and become strong.
While Hun Yan was still staring at the flower in his hand with a faint smile, the other two disciples—Ren Yan and a slender young man named Murong Xuan—had also finished their work.
Zhang Li stared at the three of them for a moment, then nodded slightly. He tucked the Red Spirit Flower into the Storage Pouch at his waist, his voice calm yet authoritative.
"Today, your task is to pick fifty Red Spirit Flowers together. You may only work within this garden. Once you're done, bring your results to the pavilion on the east side and report to me."
His words ended with a light step as he turned to leave, leaving the three disciples in the blazing sun.
As soon as his figure disappeared among the trees, Ren Yan immediately pumped his fist in the air and snorted.
"So much talk about such a trivial matter," he muttered in annoyance. "Does he think we're little kids just learning to pull weeds?"
Murong Xuan, who had been out of breath for a while, immediately slumped to the ground. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shabby robe, his face pale from the heat.
Meanwhile, Hun Yan stood silently, gazing at the garden full of spiritual flowers. After confirming that Zhang Li had truly left, he turned to his two companions.
"You two come from prosperous families, aren't you? Your clothes alone are much nicer than the entire contents of my room," he said in a light but sincere tone. "You must be unaccustomed to this kind of work. If you'd like, I'll take care of today's task. In return… I just hope we can look after each other in the future."
Hearing that, Ren Yan's eyes lit up, and a wide smile appeared without hesitation.
"Brother, you sure know how to talk!" he said, patting Hun Yan on the shoulder. "Okay, if you say so, I won't refuse. If you ever have any difficulties, come to me—I'll make sure you have a comfortable life in this valley!"
Murong Xuan didn't say much. He simply raised his head, nodded slowly, and smiled tiredly.
"Then, I'll entrust some of my belongings to you," he said hoarsely.
The two of them handed over their Spirit Protection Papers and slowly left, seeking shade under a small pavilion not far from the garden.
Now only Hun Yan remained among the field of red flowers glistening in the midday light. He clutched the paper tightly in his hand, and within his calm eyes was a burning gleam—hotter than the sun overhead.
"To them, this is just a small task…" he thought to himself. "But to me, this is an opportunity—each flower here might be a step toward longevity."