Chapter Five: The Wood Spirit Blossom

Chapter Five: The Wood Spirit Flower

For the next few weeks, Ye Bai went out almost every morning to hunt mature Earthgold Mice. During this time, he also found a few clumps of green artemisia, which, truth be told, worked wonders for external wounds—his chest had scabbed over and was nearly healed in just a few days.

But the past few weeks weren’t entirely uneventful. Once, while out hunting Earthgold Mice, Ye Bai spotted one seemingly alone, its soft belly exposed. He thought if he was quick enough, he could kill it in an instant. But before he could make his move, the Earthgold Mouse noticed him and let out a call like nothing Ye Bai had ever heard before.

Then things got ugly. The mouse’s call set off a chorus, and it seemed as if Ye Bai was suddenly surrounded by Earthgold Mice from every direction. As soon as he heard all those calls, he realized he’d made the mistake of provoking a mother Earthgold Mouse—a mistake with immediate consequences.

Ye Bai turned and fled, but was still bitten a few times by the mice darting out from all sides. Fortunately, only one of them was fully grown; the others, restless and impatient, soon lost interest. Ye Bai managed to escape by climbing into a tree, though his clothes were shredded in the process. He tore off his ruined shirt and made his way back. When he entered the guard station, the receptionist at the front desk gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

Today, Ye Bai was lucky—he found an Earthgold Mouse quickly, dispatched it, and returned to the guard station. Weeks of training had honed his combat skills, and several times he’d felt on the verge of a breakthrough, his vitality surging. He followed the methods outlined in the “Body Integration Record” to push himself further, but each time he fell just short, the boiling energy within him settling back down. It frustrated him no end.

Sitting alone by the window in the station’s dining hall, eating his simple meal, Ye Bai mulled over the problem of his stalled progress.

“Hey, have you heard? There’s a Wood Spirit Flower in the Dust Serpent Zone. I hear several peak-level Body Forgers have already gone over, and in a day or two it’ll be fully mature,” said a burly man at a nearby table, raising his cup in conversation.

A young man, mouth full, mumbled, “Wood Spirit Flower? What’s that?”

The burly man gave him a meaningful glance, sighed, shook his head, and returned to his meal in silence.

Wood Spirit Flower. At this, Ye Bai’s eyes lit up. According to “The Study of Bodily Structures,” the Wood Spirit Flower is initially blue-green, camouflaged among grass and shadows. Before maturity, it’s indistinguishable from other plants, but during its final days, its color shifts from green to yellow and it emits a fragrant aroma. The book specifically noted that this flower greatly enhances animals—it could very well create an entry-level mutant beast.

The Dust Serpent Zone is essentially contiguous with the mid-levels of the Ghostwood Mountains, where even the weakest are advanced Body Forgers, and peak Body Forgers are common. Most alarming is the likely presence of supernatural beasts. Ye Bai himself was only an advanced Body Forger—should he even consider going?

After dinner, Ye Bai wrestled with the decision while lying in bed. If he went, he’d be risking his life, but if he didn’t, who knew when he’d reach the peak of Body Forging? Normally, he wouldn’t consider it, but with entrance exams looming, his current strength would never get him into the Purple Star Academy. That meant no hope of a better life for his mother and sister.

After tossing and turning for what seemed like an eternity, Ye Bai gritted his teeth and resolved to take the risk. Fortune favors the bold, after all. Having made up his mind, he closed his eyes to rest, intending to set out for the Dust Serpent Zone at dawn.

Ye Bai rose early the next morning, packed simply, and set off. As he ventured deeper into the Ghostwood Mountains, the trees grew ever taller, and he even spotted a few rare species.

One such tree stood before him now—the House King Tree. It was so thick that it would take twenty or thirty people holding hands to encircle it, its massive crown blotting out the sky above Ye Bai, seeming to hold up the heavens. On its gigantic branches hung clusters of fruit known as House Fruits, each the size of the houses from before the Age of Darkness.

Before ripening, these fruits are hard as iron, nearly impervious to force, but once mature, their own secretions soften them. Birds and beasts eat the fruit and spread its seeds, after which the husks harden again, becoming homes for mutant beasts.

Ye Bai checked his map—the destination was only another half hour away. As he approached, the previously quiet Dust Serpent Zone grew lively, with people passing him by, all discussing the Wood Spirit Flower. Mingling with the crowd, Ye Bai drew ever closer to his goal.

Even before laying eyes on the flower, Ye Bai caught a faint, distinctive fragrance in the air—proof that it was nearly mature. But the scene before him was startling.

He’d expected a crowd, but not for people to have encircled the area so completely. To the west, north, and east stood three peak Body Forgers. To the empty south lay the border with the mid-levels of the Ghostwood Mountains, from which low growls occasionally drifted—mutant beasts also waited for the Wood Spirit Flower to mature.

Yet Ye Bai was relieved to see that no entry-level Starcore Fighters had come to snatch the flower. That meant he might have a chance.

After much maneuvering through the throng, Ye Bai finally saw the Wood Spirit Flower for himself. It matched the book’s description almost perfectly.

The flower grew in a low-lying area, entwined with a Spirit-Eater Grass. The Spirit-Eater Grass towered over the Wood Spirit Flower, its stalks leaning protectively over the blossom like an umbrella. Normally, the Spirit-Eater Grass released acrid odors to deter herbivorous mutant beasts, but some sharp-nosed creatures, drawn by the Wood Spirit Flower, would still try to approach. At such times, the Spirit-Eater Grass would envelop the flower and secrete toxins, the two plants living and dying together.

They were symbiotic—the Wood Spirit Flower provided abundant nutrients, while the Spirit-Eater Grass offered shelter. Wherever there was a Wood Spirit Flower, there would always be Spirit-Eater Grass, though the reverse was not true.

Beside this particular flower grew a Spirit-Eater Grass, the two entwined as if savoring their final moments together. The grass exuded a black substance that shimmered in the dappled forest light, as if pleading with the onlookers for mercy. Yet the people, blinded by the enormous value of the Wood Spirit Flower, were unmoved. The reason the flower hadn’t yet been plucked was simply that it wasn’t mature.

The fragrance around the flower grew thicker, and the golden petals began to part, revealing a delicate, pale yellow pistil swaying gently in the breeze, as graceful as a maiden’s slender waist.

But Ye Bai noticed that the base of the pistil remained green. And with the sun already slanting westward, the flower would not reach maturity today.

Seeing this, Ye Bai quietly withdrew from the crowd and returned to the guard station.