Over the days that followed, Yunxi could only continue absorbing nutrients from the soil so she could grow new leaves. After enduring wind, sun, rain, and the pecking of small animals, she finally grew new leaves. This time, there were two more than before, filling her with a sense of accomplishment.
After that, she began growing even more diligently. Scattered motes of light in the air, nutrients in the soil, rain falling from the sky—even the winter snow became the quilt that carried her through the harsh cold. Thus, year after year and day after day, when Yunxi opened her eyes again, she had grown into a great tree. Beneath her canopy were the small plants and grasses sheltered by her protection.
Occasionally, large animals came to rest or enjoy the shade beneath her canopy. The scraps they left behind and the droppings they expelled became new nutrients for her. She continued to grow like this. Sometimes, heavenly lightning struck and broke her branches, but she always persevered, growing the broken branches back again, until humans appeared.
They climbed the great tree and picked the flowers Yunxi had worked so hard to bloom. Then they called friends and family to build houses in Yunxi's branches, using them to hide from the attacks of fierce beasts at night.
And so, Yunxi welcomed new neighbors. These people used her tangled branches and leaves to build homes, bearing and raising children in cramped wooden houses, nurturing the next generation.
Yunxi watched these people multiply upon her body, occasionally revealing herself to observe them. Among them was a newborn baby who seemed able to see her. Whenever Yunxi appeared, the child would always give her a toothless smile.
This piqued Yunxi's interest. Whenever she woke, she would go see the little baby. But when