Chapter 7: First Nourishment
Lin Daofeng slept well that night.
The environment of the spiritual field was calm, and the qi was richer than within the clan grounds. His mind remained clear, and his body relaxed more easily than usual. Even in sleep, his breathing unconsciously aligned with the rhythm of the surrounding qi, steady and natural.
More subtly, deep within his spiritual roots, the vine remained silent. It did not move or expand, yet it continued absorbing that faint, almost imperceptible essence from the surroundings, slowly and constantly, like a hidden root drawing nourishment from an unseen world. At its center, a single droplet quietly existed.
Early morning, Daofeng opened his eyes. For a moment, he remained still, sensing the air, the qi, and beneath it—that deeper layer.
"…It's still there."
The connection had not faded. If anything, it felt clearer, more natural, as if his body had already begun adapting to it.
He stepped outside. A thin mist lingered over the fields as the rising sun cast a soft golden glow across rows of spiritual plants. The area felt calm, almost deceptively so.
His gaze swept across the surroundings. Clan members were already working—some checking plant conditions, others adjusting soil or guiding qi. Their actions were steady and practiced. Routine. Normal.
Yet as Daofeng observed them, a subtle difference became apparent. They could only sense qi, but he could feel something deeper—a faint layer beneath it. The essence released by the plants. Weak, scattered, but real.
His heartbeat quickened slightly. "…So this is the difference."
He exhaled slowly, suppressing the rising excitement. Too early. Too dangerous. Nothing about this could be exposed.
Lin Daoxin was already outside. "You're up," he said casually.
Daofeng nodded. "Mm."
Daoxin stretched lightly. "I'll show you what needs to be done. The tasks here are simple, but they require patience."
As they walked through the field, Daoxin explained, "Your main responsibilities are daily chores—clearing weeds, checking plant conditions, and maintaining the soil. Nothing complicated." He bent down, removing a patch of weeds. "But don't underestimate it. Carelessness ruins more plants than lack of skill."
He stood and added, "And the most important part—Spiritual Rain Technique."
Daofeng listened quietly. "If you can learn that, your work becomes much easier. Otherwise, you'll just be doing basic labor."
They continued walking. Now that he was aware, everything felt different. Each plant released faint traces of essence—some stronger, some weaker. The differences were subtle, but clear.
"…Not the same," he thought.
Daoxin spoke again. "This task usually lasts six months. Enough time to learn the basics. If you're interested in becoming a spiritual plant master, this is the best place to start."
Daofeng nodded. "I understand." Outwardly calm, inwardly focused. Six months… more than enough.
After greeting Lin Yunyi, he began his work. The tasks were simple but precise. Each plant required attention—soil, moisture, qi flow—all needed balance.
Time passed quietly. As he worked, Daofeng occasionally extended his perception, carefully and subtly. He did not force it. He simply observed. The faint essence drifting beneath qi, like an invisible current—weak, but everywhere. And when he stood among the plants, the vine responded. Not actively, but subtly—it absorbed, maintaining a steady, continuous flow.
His expression remained calm, but inside, excitement slowly grew. Energy of creation… He suppressed the thought immediately. Dangerous.
By noon, Daofeng returned to his residence. The courtyard was quiet. A single plant stood apart—a spiritual peach tree, first-order medium-grade. But its condition was poor. Its leaves had dulled, and its qi flow was unstable.
Daoxin noticed his gaze. "That one? It was already like that when you came." He walked closer. "Aunt tried restoring it, but nothing really worked."
Daofeng observed it carefully. The vitality was fading slowly. Beneath that, its essence was scattered and weak.
"…I see."
He didn't linger, but the thought remained.
The afternoon passed in routine—work, observation, understanding.
Night fell, and the field quieted as most disciples returned.
Daofeng stood again before the peach tree. Silence surrounded him. The connection returned—clearer, stronger. He closed his eyes and sank his awareness inward. The vine remained silent, coiled, absorbing, and at its center, the droplet quietly rested—clear, pure, and stable.
For a moment, he hesitated. "…If this is wasted…" This was his only one, accumulated slowly, not easily replaced.
But his gaze steadied. "No risk, no progress."
He guided it carefully. The droplet trembled slightly as it moved along the vine, then separated. A faint emptiness appeared within him, but he ignored it. The droplet moved through his meridians toward his hand, stable and far more controlled than the earlier thread.
He extended his hand toward the peach tree and released it.
The droplet sank into the plant silently.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the leaves trembled. A ripple spread through the tree.
"…It's reacting."
The qi flow shifted. The unstable currents aligned. The scattered essence gathered. The fading vitality stopped declining, then surged. The leaves regained their luster, brighter than before, and the aura strengthened.
It didn't stop. The surrounding qi gathered, absorption increased, and the internal structure stabilized before improving further.
Then a clear transformation occurred.
Its grade rose—from first-order medium to first-order late.
Daofeng's heartbeat quickened. This was beyond expectation. Not just recovery, but advancement.
"…So this is the droplet's effect."
His voice was low, but the excitement was real.
He didn't act again. The droplet was completely consumed, and pushing further would be reckless.
He stepped back. The courtyard returned to silence.
But the peach tree stood transformed—leaves vibrant, aura stable, qi flowing smoothly. No longer declining. It had advanced, crossing a limit it should not have been able to reach under normal conditions.
Daofeng looked at it quietly. If one droplet can do this… then what about more… He stopped himself.
"No rush."
That thought grounded him.
Deep within, the vine remained silent—empty, but still absorbing, slowly refilling. The faint flow of essence had already begun to gather again, subtle yet continuous, hinting that this ability was not temporary, but something that could grow alongside him.
Under the night sky, nothing seemed different.
But in truth, a path that should not exist had just been confirmed.
And Lin Daofeng had taken his first true step upon it.