Father Luo

"What is this? This is actually a first-grade, low-tier spirit herb! I never thought I'd encounter a legendary spirit herb here!"

Inside a cave, a middle-aged man with a basket on his back and a battered sickle in his hand gazed at a small herb glowing faintly before him. His voice was dreamy, yet carried a note of certainty.

At first he could hardly believe it. Then delight flooded his face, and the trembling of his whole body made clear just how excited he was.

His heart pounding, the middle-aged man started toward the spirit herb. His emotions in turmoil, he couldn't help tightening his grip on the sickle.

He had only just drawn near when, before he could react, a gray blur darted out from a crack in the rocks and shot straight at him!

"Ah!" The gray blur sank its teeth into the man's arm. He cried out in pain. Looking closely, he saw that it was a mouse about the size of his fist.

The mouse seemed timid. After biting the man, it darted back into the crack and disappeared from sight. But its two little eyes stared coldly at him through the gap. If he approached the spirit herb again, it would bite his arm without hesitation!

After all, it had guarded this spirit herb for years. How could it let someone simply pick it and leave?

"A... a first-level, low-tier demon beast... a Fire Poison Rat!" The middle-aged man gaped when he recognized the gray blur. Then, as if remembering something, his face turned pale as paper.

The pain in his arm reminded him that the Fire Poison Rat had just sunk its teeth into him. That was why his face had gone so pale.

Though he was only a mortal, the man was a physician in a nearby small town, renowned for his medical skills. Everyone in town knew of him, and anyone suffering from an illness, great or small, came to him for help. He had lived up to his reputation, curing nearly every ailment with a dose of medicine. There were few illnesses he couldn't treat.

Over time, even people from the neighboring towns had heard that Dragon Gate Town was home to a miracle-working physician.

But now, this skilled physician wore a look of panic as he hurriedly stuffed pill after pill into his mouth.

"What do I do? I don't have the ability to cure a demon beast's poison!" Despair filled the middle-aged physician's voice.

As its name suggested, the Fire Poison Rat was a mouse that carried fire poison. It was no bigger than an ordinary mouse, but it was a genuine demon beast. Though timid and not much of a fighter, it carried a terribly troublesome poison. Anyone bitten by one would be infected with fire poison. If the poison couldn't be purged, the victim's body would eventually rot away, leaving a revolting mess. Cultivators could purge it with ease, but the middle-aged man was clearly just an ordinary person. He had no way of doing that.

Though the middle-aged man was a skilled physician, his mortal body left him helpless before a demon beast. Fortunately, he was capable enough to keep the fire poison at bay with pills he had made himself. He couldn't purge it quickly, but at least he had managed to save his life for the moment.

Still, his skin had turned red all over, making it plain that he was in agony!

Suppressing the waves of burning pain that swept through his body, the middle-aged man looked away from his bitten arm and back at the first-grade, low-tier spirit herb. A conflicted look crossed his face. After a short while, resolve replaced it. He held the sickle across his chest and edged toward the herb, on guard.

His eyes swept constantly over his surroundings, wary of another attack from the Fire Poison Rat. The fire poison had already reached his heart. If not for the pills temporarily suppressing it, the middle-aged man would have rotted away and died. One careless move, and if the rat bit him again, he might well meet his end right here.

Even with the fire poison in his body, the middle-aged man resolutely moved toward the spirit herb, completely disregarding his own life. He did it for one reason only: to claim the herb for himself.

"This Qi Gathering Grass doesn't look very old, but if Luo Mu takes it, perhaps it can do something to improve his body," the middle-aged man thought.

It turned out that the middle-aged man was risking his life to reach the spirit herb not for himself, but for his son, Luo Mu. He had already put his own life aside for his son. He was determined to claim this first-grade, low-tier spirit herb, even if it cost him his life!

Luo Mu was the middle-aged man's beloved son, and in just a few months he would turn eighteen. By local custom, boys were considered adults at eighteen. They were expected to marry, have children, support their households, and stand on their own. Girls of eighteen, meanwhile, were expected to marry and take on the duties of a wife.

Luo Mu was clever and quick-witted. Like his father, he had loved medicine since childhood, and he had a great talent for it. Though he wasn't yet eighteen, he had already learned most of his father's medical knowledge. He was a prodigy in the field.

But that was far from enough for Luo Mu. What he truly wanted was to become a cultivator who could summon wind and rain, soar through the clouds, and stand far above ordinary mortals!

What made Luo Mu envy cultivators most was their lifespan, many times longer than that of ordinary people. Their lifespans varied according to their cultivation levels. Mortals, on the other hand, lived a mere few decades. Those in poor health might not even reach fifty.

Who wouldn't want to live longer? Luo Mu was only a mortal, but he shared that same desire.

In this world, where mortals and cultivators coexisted, mortals were like ants, while cultivators were beyond reach. There was a clear rule forbidding cultivators from attacking mortals at will. Anyone caught doing so would be slaughtered by other cultivators.

But what if no one found out?

Before cultivators, mortals were so very weak!

So Luo Mu refused to live as a mortal whom cultivators could bully at will. He, too, wanted to cultivate and change the course of his life. But fate had played a cruel trick on him: Luo Mu's body simply couldn't gather spiritual energy. Though he had expected this result, neither he nor his father could keep from feeling crushed.

Luo Mu's mother had died when he was young. His father—this very middle-aged man—had raised him alone. Because of the man's remarkable medical skills, mortals seeking treatment came in an endless stream, and the Luo household had managed to build up a considerable fortune.

The small town had a school for all its children. Its main subject was the fundamentals of cultivation. Luo Mu had begun studying there at eight, and now ten years had passed!

Ten years might mean little to a cultivator, but for a mortal like Luo Mu, they were impossible to dismiss. How many ten-year stretches did an ordinary person get in a lifetime?

Time was precious, of course, but if he had been lucky enough to go from an ordinary person to the lowest level of cultivation, Qi Refining, in those ten years, that would have been something. But fate had other plans. Over the course of those ten years, Luo Mu and his father had reached one conclusion: Luo Mu had no "immortal affinity," because his dantian could not gather spiritual energy!

That conclusion left both Luo Mu and Father Luo despondent.

Father Luo understood what his precious son wanted and secretly swore that he would do everything possible to help him. Over the years, he had spent all the household savings buying spirit herbs for Luo Mu to take, hoping they might change the fact that his son's dantian could not gather spiritual energy.

Spirit herbs were treasures of heaven and earth. Their spiritual energy varied greatly according to their quality and age. But no matter what kind of spirit herb it was—even the lowest-grade, first-grade, low-tier variety—it sold for a terrifying price, usually several to a dozen low-grade spirit stones.

A spirit stone was only about the size of a palm. One could support a household of three for a month. Only cultivators had the means to trade in whole spirit stones; ordinary people couldn't afford to. Instead, they cut each stone into a hundred small pieces and used those for everyday purchases and exchanges.

Over the years, Father Luo had earned hundreds of low-grade spirit stones practicing medicine, making him one of the few wealthy people in town.

For his beloved son, Luo Mu, Father Luo had spent all their savings on spirit herbs in less than a year. But to the despair of both father and son, the herbs had done nothing to change Luo Mu's constitution. His dantian remained as lifeless as ever, unable to gather spiritual energy.

Still, Father Luo didn't give up. Their savings were gone, but he still had two hands and two feet. So, in addition to treating patients, he went up the mountain alone with his herb basket, hoping to get lucky and find spirit herbs himself.

Luo Mu saw everything his father did. He was deeply moved, and secretly vowed not to disappoint him or let all his efforts go to waste.

So Luo Mu continued attending school as usual. Since his dantian couldn't gather spiritual energy, he spent his days poring over books on the fundamentals of cultivation. The town school was small, and its collection held only the most basic books, but even so, Luo Mu read them with rapt attention.

After ten years, he could recite every one of those books by heart!

Luo Mu firmly believed that the cultivation world was vast, and that there had to be a way to solve the problem with his body. The sad part was that he didn't know whether he would find it in his lifetime!

??

Inside the cave, the middle-aged man—Luo Mu's father—was cautiously making his way toward the spirit herb when he suddenly spotted a small, exquisite cloth pouch beside it.

First came confusion. Then, in an instant, undisguised delight welled up in Father Luo's eyes!