Kai moved through the motions of his morning routine with practiced efficiency. He dressed in his sect robes, prepared a simple breakfast, and headed to the stable area to tend to the spirit beasts. The familiar rhythm of his tasks was usually enough to keep his mind focused, but today, a heavy shadow lingered over him.
No matter how hard he tried, Kai couldn’t shake the sorrowful dream from the night. It clung to him like a persistent fog, creeping into his thoughts even as he busied himself feeding the animals and releasing them from their enclosures.
The dream had been so vivid, painfully so. Kai had felt every moment, every emotion, as though he had truly lived through it. His heart ached in a way he hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just the sadness of witnessing Mike’s grief and helplessness; it was the strange connection he felt to this foreign life, this otherworldly experience of pain and loss.
As he worked, Kai’s thoughts drifted back to the girl in the dream, to her frail form and the disease they called "cancer." It was a word he had never heard before, a sickness beyond his understanding. The frustration gnawed at him—if only he could bring the medicines of his world into Mike’s, perhaps the girl could be saved. But it was impossible. A dream, no matter how vivid, was still just a dream.
Still, the ache in his heart lingered. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts aside as he focused on brushing Snow, the ice-claw wolf who greeted him with an eager wag of its tail. Kai sighed and smiled faintly, grateful for the grounding presence of the beasts.
“This is reality,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. “The dream was just… a dream.”
But even as he spoke the words, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more to these dreams. For now, though, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and returned to his duties.
After finishing brushing Snow’s fur, Kai gently patted the ice-claw wolf’s head, earning a soft whine of protest as he put away his tools and began to leave the stable. Normally, Kai would have spent more time tending to the spirit beasts, ensuring each one received care and attention. However, he couldn't do that today.
The previous day’s events—the ordeal with Yan and the trip to the Sect’s alchemy pavilion—had thrown off his routine. He had missed his opportunity to forage for spirit herbs, and the lost time weighed heavily on him. The balance of his duties and responsibilities demanded that he make up for it, even if it meant cutting his time with the beasts short.
“Sorry, Snow,” Kai murmured over his shoulder as he walked away. The wolf let out another soft whine, its tail thumping once against the ground in acknowledgment.
Kai returned to his humble shack and grabbed his herb-collecting bag, a worn but reliable satchel that had accompanied him on countless foraging trips. He adjusted the strap over his shoulder and set off into the forest, his steps steady but purposeful.
The dense greenery of the forest greeted him with a familiar stillness, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. This was one of the few places where Kai felt truly at peace. Despite the Sect's corruption and the burdens he carried, the forest always seemed untouched by it all—a sanctuary of life and renewal.
As he ventured deeper, the sunlight filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, guiding his path toward areas where spirit herbs were known to grow. With a keen eye and practiced movements, Kai scanned the undergrowth, searching for the telltale glimmer or vibrant hues that marked the presence of these rare and precious plants.
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A sudden breeze whispered through the forest, rustling the leaves in the canopy above and carrying with it a faint, earthy aroma that Kai immediately recognized. It was the distinct scent of a spirit herb—a promising lead.
Kai turned his head, inhaling deeply to pinpoint the direction the scent had come from. Once he had his bearings, he set off, moving with quiet purpose through the dense underbrush. His steps were deliberate, weaving carefully around thorny bushes and over fallen logs that lay scattered across the forest floor.
As he navigated deeper into the woods, his sharp gaze scanned the ground, not just for signs of the sought-after herb but also for a certain hazard. Among the many plants in the forest, none was more problematic than dung weed. Its inconspicuous appearance often fooled the careless, stepping on it released a foul stench that clung to a person for days. Kai had experienced it once before, and the mockery that followed reinforced the dreaded nickname “Stinky Kai.” He had no intention of reliving that humiliation.
“Not today,” he muttered under his breath, sidestepping a suspicious clump of plants that bore a strong resemblance to the cursed weed.
The wind blew again, carrying a stronger hint of the herbal scent. Encouraged, Kai quickened his pace, his heart steady as he honed in on the source. The forest felt alive with possibility, and though his primary goal was to replenish his supplies, the act of foraging itself brought a strange comfort—a small reprieve from the day-to-day of his life.
After an hour of careful searching, Kai’s diligence bore fruit. Nestled beneath the shade of a gnarled tree, he stumbled upon a thriving patch of glowing spirit herbs. Their faint luminescence illuminated the surrounding foliage, casting a soft, ethereal light over the forest floor.
The plants he had found were butterfly clovers, aptly named for their leaves, which grew in the shape of butterfly wings with intricate vein patterns resembling those of the delicate insect. Though considered a low-tier herb, only capable of producing medicine up to tier five, the Sect still offered merit for its collection. Judging by the density of the patch, this discovery could fetch a decent amount.
Kai knelt beside the herbs, his movements practiced and deliberate. With a careful hand, he began selecting clovers for harvesting, but not indiscriminately. To the untrained eye, the glowing clovers would seem the most valuable—after all, their light was mesmerizing. However, this was a novice's mistake.
Kai's experience told him otherwise. The glowing butterfly clovers were newly sprouted and immature, their alchemical potency still undeveloped. The true prize lay in the unassuming, non-glowing clovers, which had matured and absorbed the necessary essence to make them far more effective for crafting medicine and cultivation pills.
Using a small herb knife, Kai gently harvested only the mature clovers, leaving the glowing ones undisturbed. This was a practice of sustainability. By allowing the young herbs to remain, he ensured that this patch would continue to thrive, providing a renewable source of valuable ingredients for the future.
The process took time, but Kai didn’t rush. Each herb was handled with care, its stem cut precisely at the base to preserve the plant's integrity. His herb pouch began to fill, the faint aroma of butterfly clovers wafting up with every addition.
“Not bad,” he murmured to himself, a small sense of satisfaction creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanor. Moments like this, surrounded by the quiet hum of the forest and the steady rhythm of his work, felt oddly fulfilling. It was one of the aspects of his duties that brought him a measure of peace.
Kai straightened up, brushing the loose dirt from his knees. He surveyed his now-filled herb pouch and nodded to himself, satisfied with the day’s work. Turning back toward the direction of his shack, he began his trek home. The forest around him was serene, and the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot almost lulled him into a state of calm.
That was until he heard the voice.
“Hey, Lan!” a shout rang out from the direction he had just left. “I found a whole bunch of herbs here! Enough for both of us!”
Kai froze mid-step, his mind racing. That’s not good, he thought, a twinge of irritation mixing with concern. He clenched his jaw as he turned back toward the butterfly clover patch.
His steps quickened, weaving through the trees with the ease of someone who knew the terrain well. If someone disturbed the patch he had carefully left to regrow, it would ruin the sustainability of the cluster.
