The Flowing Cloud Shuttle docked at Hidden-Mist Bay on Hundred Herb Island. Carrying a Storage Bag containing the Void Sky Space-Locking Formation Flags, Han Li stepped onto the bluestone path beside Zi Ling.
The festive air of the New Year still lingered on the island. Apothecary apprentices carried freshly gathered spiritual herbs through the corridors, while the hiss of pill furnaces being quenched mingled with the clear cries of spirit cranes. Zi Ling had changed back into the moon-white robes of a Pill Pavilion steward. The resonance between her plain silver hairpin and the Star-Water Token gradually faded, leaving only the Star-Illusion Maze Formation Flags at her waist swaying gently in the breeze.
"Han Li, you spent half a month in seclusion. Did your cultivation improve?" Zi Ling turned to look at him, concern in her eyes.
Han Li tapped the Water Sword with a fingertip, sending ripples across its blade. "The bottleneck to the foundation establishment middle stage has loosened. Another three hundred Spirit Stones, and I can break through." He paused, then pointed toward the west of town. "It's time to gather the Concealment Grass in the Lost-Trace Forest."
The Lost-Trace Forest lay at the western edge of Hundred Herb Island, named for the Concealment Mist that shrouded it year-round. Spiritual herbs flourished within, but deadly dangers lurked beneath that abundance-the mist could obscure spiritual sense, the miasma could corrode meridians, and demon beasts such as Shadow Martens and Mist Pythons made their lairs there.
When Han Li and Zi Ling reached the forest entrance, more than a dozen cultivators had already gathered. Their leader was a middle-aged man with a hooked nose, dressed in the crimson robes of the Flame Cloud Sect. A Blazing Sun Sword tassel hung at his waist, and he was arguing with a