Chapter 8: The Stirring of the Spirit Herb’s Ailment

Yunyao’s heart suddenly sank, her fingertips lightly touching the withered, yellowed leaves of the spirit herbs, a chill spreading from her fingertips throughout her entire body.

In the spirit herb garden, herbs that had just begun to show signs of vitality now appeared wilted and listless, their leaf edges curling and taking on a sickly dark brown hue.

The surrounding air seemed to grow heavy, permeated with a faint scent of decay.

A gentle breeze swept by, carrying a faint earthy smell that deepened the oppressive atmosphere.

“How could this be...” Yunyao murmured softly, her voice so low it was barely audible.

Her brows furrowed tightly, anxiety etched across her face, and her once bright eyes were now clouded with shadows.

Sweat seeped from her forehead, tracing down her cheeks and dripping onto the withered herbs, as if silent sighs of despair.

“Yunyao,” came a slightly worried voice. She looked up to see Elder Zhao standing not far away, his brows knitted as he gazed at her.

Elder Zhao’s expression was grave, his gaze fixed on the diseased herbs. “The condition of the spirit herbs is not looking good.”

Yunyao took a deep breath, struggling to quell the panic rising within her. “Elder Zhao, I will find the cause as soon as possible. I won’t let all the hard work in the spirit herb garden be for nothing.” Her eyes shone with determination and resolve as she met his gaze, a clear testament to the burden she bore.

Elder Zhao sighed, patting her shoulder. “I know you’re doing your best, but this matter is serious. Don’t rush and make mistakes.” He paused, then added, “If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Yunyao nodded, her gaze returning to the diseased herbs, a strong sense of unease swelling within her.

Bending down, she carefully examined the soil at the roots of the herbs. Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of a faint trace of white powder…

“What is this?”

She pinched the white powder, bringing it to her nose to sniff. A faint musty smell crept into her nostrils.

“Looks like some kind of fungus...” she thought, quickly collecting the powder, intent on studying it thoroughly once she returned.

Over the next few days, Yunyao spent almost all her time in the library, poring over various pharmacopoeias, trying to find information about this fungus and possible remedies.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she found nothing.

Day by day, the spirit herbs deteriorated further, the area of blight expanding, and with it, Yunyao’s heart grew heavier.

She tried every method she could think of—from adjusting the soil’s pH to modifying the garden’s light and humidity, even attempting to nourish the herbs with her spiritual energy—but all to no avail.

The leaves remained curled and yellowed, exuding a chilling scent of decay.

Despair wrapped around Yunyao like creeping vines, suffocating her.

At night, she sat alone in the spirit herb garden, moonlight spilling like water and stretching her shadow long.

The surroundings were silent save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze, amplifying her solitude and helplessness.

She stroked the withered herbs, the dry, rough texture beneath her fingertips silently telling the story of fading life.

Bitterness of failure spread in her mouth; her eyes reddened slightly, but stubbornly, she refused to shed tears.

“Miss Yunyao...” a timid voice broke the silence.

She looked up to see Xiaodie standing not far off, holding a small bundle, hesitation flickering in her eyes.

“Xiaodie? Why are you still here so late?” Yunyao asked.

Taking a deep breath, Xiaodie mustered courage. “Miss Yunyao, I... I have an idea, maybe it could help...” She extended the bundle to Yunyao. “These were left by my grandmother. She said... they can be used to treat plant diseases...”

Inside the bundle were stones of various colors, emanating a faint earthy scent.

Other disciples nearby whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with ridicule and disdain.

Chen Xuan snorted coldly. “What nonsense are you bringing out to embarrass yourself?”

But Yunyao did not mock Xiaodie as the others did. She took the bundle seriously, carefully examining the stones, her eyes sparkling with thoughtful curiosity.

“Your grandmother is...?”

Xiaodie had expected rejection but was surprised by Yunyao’s earnest attitude.

Yunyao nodded. “Thank you, Xiaodie. I will try.” Her tone was resolute, as if grasping the last straw of salvation.

Xiaodie looked at Yunyao with hope shining in her eyes. “Miss Yunyao, I believe you can do it!”

“These stones...” Yunyao rubbed the rough surfaces, feeling the residual warmth. “They seem unusual...”

Under the moonlight, Yunyao laid out the stones, scrutinizing them carefully. Her fingertips traced their coarse textures.

These were no ordinary stones; they emitted a faint, warm earthy aroma, starkly different from the cold air around them.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply as a fresh scent of grass and wood filled her nostrils, mingled with a faint, elusive sweetness.

She vaguely sensed that these stones held some hidden secret.

In the following days, besides consulting the pharmacopoeias, Yunyao began investigating the stones.

Using her spiritual energy, she probed their internal structure, discovering a special energy within—gentle and pure, closely resembling the life force that nurtured the spirit herbs.

She boldly hypothesized that these stones might neutralize the herbs’ affliction.

Crushing one stone into powder, she cautiously sprinkled it onto the diseased soil.

Half a day later, a miracle unfolded. A faint azure glow emanated from the soil, and the wilting herbs gradually regained vitality; the dark brown on their leaves faded, and the curled edges began to unfold.

“How... how is this possible!” Chen Xuan’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched.

Other disciples gathered, their faces full of astonishment.

Watching the herbs’ revival, a surge of indescribable joy welled up in Yunyao’s heart.

She knew she had found a solution to the spirit herbs’ blight; she had not disappointed everyone’s hopes.

At that moment, a familiar figure appeared in her sight—Jun Mohan.

He walked over slowly, eyes reflecting admiration and respect. Raising his hand, he gently patted Yunyao’s shoulder.

His touch was warm and strong, passing through his clothes to her skin, making her heart flutter.

Yunyao’s cheeks flushed as she lifted her gaze to meet Jun Mohan’s deep eyes, shimmering like stars, reflecting her figure. The atmosphere between them grew charged with a delicate intimacy.

The spirit herb garden’s vitality was restored, radiating vigor once more, shaking the entire sect.

Yunyao’s name spread to every corner of the cultivation sect, her prestige reaching unprecedented heights.

Yet, just as everyone indulged in joy, a sudden announcement arrived from the sect—the Heart Demon Trial was about to begin.

When Yunyao heard the news, her hand paused on the ancient book she was reading. Slowly, she lifted her head to gaze out the window; the sky was dark and overcast, mirroring the mood in her heart.