I sat on a large rock, one hand still resting on my knee, my breathing steady. A breeze blew from deep within the forest, carrying a crisp chill. The wounds from that battle still lingered, and my shoulder burned with pain. Every time I lifted my arm, it felt as though fine needles were pricking me. I did not move. I merely closed my eyes and focused my attention on my sea of consciousness.
The information the system had just sent still echoed in my mind. The fragment of the Beginner Spirit Beast Taming Guide did not contain much, but every point was crucial. As I recalled it, I reached into my sleeve, took out the jade slip, and opened it to the last page. A few words had already been written there: "Fast, intelligent, dislikes ambushes." Below that was another line: "Must not be forcibly taken."
Now, I needed to add new information.
I dipped the brush tip in some water and wrote, "Wind-attributed juvenile." After a pause, I continued, "Averse to pressure, prefers pure spiritual energy." Further down, I wrote, "Strong territorial instincts, non-aggressive, wariness can be reduced through long-term displays of goodwill." The final line was the most important: "Its senses are sharpest, and it is most relaxed, before the morning dew disperses. Suitable time for friendly contact."
After writing that, I set down the brush and gently rubbed the page with my fingers. This information had not come easily. If I had not answered that question correctly, I might still have been thinking of ways to subdue it with a stronger technique. But now I knew that would only drive it completely away.
I looked toward the edge of the forest. Layer upon layer of tree shadows stood there, and the mist had yet to fully disperse. It should still be nearby. The spirit crystal I had set down earlier had not been touched so far. It glimmered faintly atop the rock, like a tiny star someone had forgotten.
But that was not important. What mattered was that I now understood what I needed to do.
Not rely on strength, not rely on speed, but on time, steadiness, and repeated silent gestures of goodwill. If it was wary, I would keep my distance. If it was sensitive, I would reduce my fluctuations. If it liked peace and quiet, I would do nothing at all but sit there.
This was the right way.
I withdrew my gaze and looked down at the jade slip. There was not much to prepare next, but everything had to be precise. First, I needed some pure spirit food. The morning dew crystals I had used earlier were clean, but there was too little of them, and they were not noticeable enough. It would be best to find naturally gathered spirit dew, or condense the pure qi of heaven and earth drawn in during meditation into fresh crystals.
Second, I had to grasp the timing. The guide mentioned "before the morning dew disperses," meaning dawn was the most suitable time. Its senses would be at their strongest then, but it would also be most relaxed. If I appeared during that period and brought the same thing every time, perhaps I could gradually establish a habitual understanding—this person will not hurt me; the aura this person brings is safe.
I also had to watch my movements. I could not suddenly raise my hand, could not gather spiritual power, and could not even look at it too directly. The guide said that wind-attributed spirit beasts were extremely sensitive to being fixed in someone's gaze. They would see it as a sign of an impending hunt. I had to learn to lower my eyes and walk slowly, as naturally as an ordinary person walking through the mountains.
At that thought, I gently moved my shoulder. The pain was still there, but it had eased somewhat. This injury was a reminder, one that would make me remember the price of impulsiveness. I took out the ruined spirit stone from my robes and held it in my palm. Its icy sensation spread up from my fingertips, just as it had before.
The difference was that this time, I no longer felt ashamed.
Failure was not frightening. What was frightening was not knowing why one had failed. Now I knew. I had not lost because my cultivation was too weak, nor because my techniques were not strong enough. I had lost because of my attitude. I had treated the spirit beast as something to conquer rather than an independent living being.
That way of thinking had to change.
I put the spirit stone away against my body again, then closed the jade slip and tucked it into my robes. Outside, the sky had already brightened. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and spilled onto the ground, while the sound of the stream never stopped. I could hear birds calling in the distance and insects chirping nearby. Everything was peaceful.
But I could not rush.
The true beginning was not charging in and catching it. It was slowly paving the road to trust where it could not see me.
I rose to my feet and stretched. My limbs had grown somewhat stiff from sitting still for so long, but I did not immediately start walking. Instead, I stood where I was and slowly circulated my spiritual power through one cycle. This time, I did not pursue speed or attempt to heal my injuries. I merely let the current flow naturally through my meridians and felt its rhythm.
The system remained quietly in the depths of my sea of consciousness, offering no prompt. But it had just completed an important transfer of information, which meant it was also adjusting its responses according to my state. In the past, it would only present questions at critical moments. Now, it could provide supplementary materials without me actively asking for them. That was progress, and also recognition of my growth.
I took a deep breath, turned, and headed toward the cultivation grounds.
I did not need to go far. On an open patch of ground on the western side of the valley stood a flat bluestone beside several spirit herbs. It was a small spirit-gathering formation I had discovered a few days ago. Though weak, it was enough to condense spirit dew. Every dawn, I could meditate there and gather pure qi along the way, turning it into new spirit crystals.
The plan was already in place. All that remained was to carry it out.
I arrived beside the bluestone and sat down cross-legged. With both hands resting on my knees, palms facing upward, I began regulating my breathing. The spiritual energy in the air was far denser than at the outskirts. With a light inhale, I could feel coolness slipping into my lungs and viscera. I closed my eyes and stopped thinking about that silver-white spirit beast. Nor did I speculate about where it might be at that moment.
I simply waited.
I waited for the first ray of tomorrow's dawn to pierce the forest. I waited for the moment before the dew evaporated. Then I would appear once more at the place where it might show up, carrying a larger, purer spirit crystal and quietly placing it where it had lingered last time.
I would not speak, would not make a move, and would do nothing unnecessary.
I would simply be there.
By the time I opened my eyes for the third time, the sun had already tilted westward. I had sat on the bluestone for an entire day. The spiritual power within me flowed far more smoothly, and the pain in my shoulder had lessened by more than half. I slowly stood, brushed the dust from my clothes, and headed back toward the large rock.
As I passed the rock where I had left the spirit crystal, I stopped.
The spirit crystal was gone.
The surface of the rock was spotless, without even a single fragment left behind. It was as though someone had carefully taken it away rather than knocking or kicking it aside.
I stared at that rock for a long time.
Then the corners of my lips lifted slightly.
I knew it had returned.
And I knew it had seen what I left behind.
That was enough.
I turned and continued walking back. My steps were lighter than they had been on the way here. The night wind brushed past my ears, carrying the rustle of leaves. I entered the cultivation grounds, took out the jade slip, and opened it to the final page.
I picked up the brush and wrote a new line: "First contact successful. Target took the spirit crystal."
At that point, I paused.
Then I wrote the final sentence: "Continue placing offerings tomorrow morning."
The brush left its final dot. I blew the ink dry and put away the jade slip.
Pale moonlight shone through the window and fell upon the corner of the table. I sat beneath the lamp without lighting a candle or circulating my spiritual power. I simply sat in silence, listening to the wind outside and waiting for tomorrow to arrive.
Tomorrow, I would bring more spirit crystals.