---
A week passed.
Tian Jue's hands, once soft with youth, were now lightly calloused, stained green and brown from roots, stems, and crushed leaves.
His mother watched him closely as he identified dozens of herbs by scent alone. He moved with calm confidence, tracing moisture lines on leaves and judging spirit essence concentration just by touch. Sometimes she'd stare at him a little too long, as if trying to see through the boy in front of her.
He was only six.
But he moved like a man who had studied under great alchemists.
---
> [System Update – Herbalist Progression]
→ Minor Path: Herbalist (Tier 2 – Practitioner)
Bonuses Applied:
– Recovery Speed +10%
– Constitution Recovery from Herbal Baths +40%
Attribute Gains:
– Intelligence +5
– Wisdom +10
Note: Intelligence and Wisdom do not directly affect level.
These attributes modify insight, system interpretation, technique comprehension, and qi control efficiency.
---
Tian Jue stared at the panel that night and gave a small sigh.
> "So that's how it works. Strength and Constitution come from effort and fatigue. Wisdom and Intelligence from learning, analysis, and perception. But Level only reflects full-body integration. It's not about power—it's about balance."
He had only gained one level this week.
But his mind? Sharpened like a blade.
His planning? Precise like an alchemist's scale.
His goal? Clear.
---
The herbs of this world were stunning.
Spirit-ginseng that grew in spiraled roots with self-repairing properties. Ironleaf fern that doubled blood circulation when crushed into a paste. Floating dew flowers that pulsed with lunar qi when steeped in silver bowls.
> "At least two-thirds of these herbs are near-identical to my past world," Tian Jue thought, grinding blueleaf under a jade pestle. "But the remaining third are things I've never even heard of."
That third… held potential.
And with his mother's humble garden, paired with the rare wild herbs on the mountain, Tian Jue had already formulated a comprehensive three-month constitution enhancement cycle.
> Week 1–2: Detoxification and blood purification.
Week 3–6: Marrow tempering with fire-vein and jade-thread herbs.
Week 7–12: Bone hardening and tendon regeneration, capped with soul-rest tea nightly.
It was aggressive—far more intense than anything a six-year-old should endure.
But he wasn't just any child.
And this time, he had no nine curses dragging him into decay.
---
The only problem?
Some of the rarest herbs he needed—Cloudsilver Vine, Thunderroot, and Gold Mist Mushroom—only grew in the upper ridges of Wolfback Mountain, a half-day's journey away and rumored to have roaming spirit beasts.
He'd need protection. Not from others. From fate.
---
That night, in the dim lantern light of their shed, he opened an old crate. Inside were some rusted farming tools, bent knives, a broken short sword... and a coil of fine spirit-steel chain, wrapped around a small, glinting needle.
He held it in his hand for a long time.
The needle was long—half a foot—and forged from lightweight silver-titanium alloy, wrapped in coiled silksteel thread. Its tip was still razor-sharp. The chain extended from its base, thin enough to coil around his forearm, long enough to trail past his shoulder.
As his fingers closed around it, a chill passed through him.
A memory surfaced, unbidden—
A blood-drenched ravine.
His body shredded.
An ambush.
Him, binding his last hope to his own flesh—
This very weapon.
The only tool that let him survive that battle.
> "So it survived too…"
He wrapped the chain around his arm with slow reverence, fitting it to his tiny frame. It was awkward. Heavy. Wrong for his size.
But it felt like home.
> "I'll adapt."
He tied the chain under his sleeve, letting the needle rest under his wrist, easy to release with a flick.
The image of that death battle in his past life didn't scare him.
It anchored him.
Reminded him what waited at the peak.
What he promised to reach.
> "Wife… I haven't forgotten."
---
The next morning, his mother looked at him as he stood by the door with a small herbal satchel and the chain hidden beneath his sleeve.
"Going out again?" she asked.
He nodded. "To the mountain. Just scouting today."
She frowned, concerned. "Be careful. The higher you go, the stranger the qi gets."
"I know," he replied, voice steady. "But that's also where the best things grow."
She didn't stop him. She only handed him a piece of dried honeyroot. "Take this. If anything chases you, throw it. Sweet herb distracts low-tier beasts."
He smiled, tucked it into his pouch, and stepped outside.
The wind met him with the scent of wild sage and mist.
The mountain waited.
---
To be continued…