"Alright," Senior Brother Duan said, "Wu Shuan and I will keep watch first. Han Yu, Kui—you two go ahead."
Fatty Kui looked like he had been waiting for that command his entire life. He immediately picked a glossy Radiant Ember Pears, its skin veined like molten fire.
"Finally!" he declared dramatically, like a starving man given his last meal.
He bit down, juice staining his chin. "Mmmh—sweet, spicy, and tingly! Oh heavens, this is better than roasted pork belly!"
Han Yu rolled his eyes but quietly consumed a Verdant Horn Melon of his own. The fruit burst cool and crisp in his mouth, sending a wave of refreshing Qi through his meridians like spring rain.
He closed his eyes, calmly guiding the energy into his cores, circulating it to avoid any waste.
For the next half hour, the two sat cross-legged, expressions solemn as they refined the influx of spiritual essence. Kui's stomach grumbled twice, but remarkably, he managed to keep still.
Once the glow of Qi around them dimmed, Duan and Wu Shuan exchanged a nod, then sat down themselves. Han Yu and Kui took up guard duty. Kui kept licking his lips, eyes occasionally sneaking toward the pile of yet-to-be-eaten fruits.
"You're supposed to guard, not drool," Han Yu muttered.
"I am guarding," Kui whispered back indignantly. "Guarding the fruits from being wasted. My eyes are weapons against temptation!"
Han Yu pinched the bridge of his nose.
The cycle continued.
Each pair refined the fruits, switching after their session was complete. Five hours passed like this, the faint hum of Qi fluctuations echoing across the garden. By the end, the fruits were gone, their medicinal essence safely circulating within their bodies.
Han Yu carefully tucked away his notes, marking down the directions they had taken and the garden's coordinates on his parchment map.
Every detail was written cleanly; paths, distances, landmarks. He knew that when reported, the Herb Division would dispatch disciples to transplant the spirit trees properly. For the group, that meant additional merit points.
By the time they finished, the air in the garden felt lighter, calmer. The shimmering illumination arrays above cast a perpetual false-sunlight, but none of them felt like lingering any longer.
"So…" Fatty Kui finally broke the silence, "two more paths, huh? Who's feeling lucky?"
Wu Shuan folded his arms. "Luck has nothing to do with it. We'll check both."
Duan straightened his robes, serious as ever. "Indeed. We've already secured a harvest here. But leaving other routes unexplored could mean missing further opportunities... or dangers waiting to catch us unprepared."
Han Yu simply tucked Chitterfang back into his robe. "Either way, we'll find out. Let's move."
And so, with the spirit garden behind them, the four cultivators turned back into the shadowed corridor, ready to test their fortune with the other two paths.
The group soon found themselves once again standing at the same three-way split they had discovered earlier. The garden had been left behind, their bellies filled with spirit fruits and their pouches heavier with herbs.
Yet now, staring at the three paths, the mood was less one of satisfaction and more of cautious anticipation.
The same faint glow of Wu Shuan's illumination talisman hung above them, its light pooling into three distinct tongues of shadow that stretched down the left, center, and right corridors. The air was still, the silence only broken by the sound of their own breathing.
"Alright," Fatty Kui said, scratching his head, "last time right turned out to be lucky. This time, I say left. Left never fails me."
Han Yu gave him a flat look. "If left never fails you, why is it that every time you go left in board games you somehow end up broke and in debt to me?"
"That's because you cheat!" Fatty Kui declared with an offended snort.
Wu Shuan chuckled softly, but Duan raised a hand before they could start bickering further. "There is no need for guesswork. The rat shall scout again."
At that, Han Yu unceremoniously poked the lump inside his robes.
A disgruntled chitter followed, and a moment later Chitterfang wriggled out, blinking in the dim light. His fur was slightly puffed, as if he still hadn't forgiven his master for making him miss out on feasting more in the garden.
While Chitterfang did have his share of tender stems and roots, he still wished to eat more of the fruits. Though Han Yu told him he'll give them later, as he was sure the Rat would fall into coma after eating it. The fruits were very rich in energy after all.
For a rat that size, even a couple bites would last a few days.
"Alright, you little gourmand," Han Yu said, lowering him to the ground, "pick a path. Left, or middle."
The rat sniffed, whiskers twitching as he turned his head toward the leftmost path. Then, without hesitation, he scampered forward.
"There we have it," Wu Shuan said, adjusting his robe and following.
The others fell into step, Senior Brother Duan at the front behind the rat, Han Yu and Wu Shuan in the middle, and Fatty Kui taking up the rear with all the subtlety of a noisy ox.
The corridor was narrower than the others, walls lined with uneven stone that made the shadows dance strangely. They had not gone far when Chitterfang stopped suddenly, nose pressed to the ground. He gave a squeak, pawing at a certain tile. Follow current novᴇls on novel•fire.net
Han Yu narrowed his eyes. "Trap here."
They bent lower, and under the faint talisman light, they could see the very slight misalignment of the stone tile. Senior Brother Duan pressed his palm lightly above it, then immediately withdrew.
"Poison gas vents," he said grimly, pointing at the small circular holes lining the walls further ahead. "Step on this trigger, and the vents will flood the corridor. Even a Core Condensation cultivator would find their senses dulled within moments if lucky, or dead if unlucky."
Even Chitterfang's whiskers drooped at that revelation. He might be safe from spikes, but poison gas was a very different story.