The three levels of the way of plants

The tea entered your mouth, crisp and clear with a hint of bitterness, before giving way to a lingering sweetness.

You closed your eyes to savor it, then opened them a moment later and said sincerely, "Your skill is excellent, Senior. Clear without being bland, fragrant without being cloying."

The corners of Chrysanthemum Douluo's lips lifted slightly, and an almost imperceptible smile rippled through his pale golden eyes. He said nothing, merely refilling your cup halfway with slow, gentle movements.

Morning light filtered through the gaps in the bamboo blinds, casting fine bars of light across the table. Outside the window, the occasional chirping of birds made this little courtyard feel all the more quiet and secluded.

"That pure aura of plants about you could only have come from immersing yourself in them day after day, over many years." He set down the teapot and looked up at you. "With attainments like these, little one, have you studied under a master?"

You answered frankly, "I have no formal master."

"Oh?" Chrysanthemum Douluo raised an eyebrow. "Self-taught?"

"More or less." You smiled. "I've loved reading since childhood. After finishing all the books at home, I searched everywhere for texts to study on my own. Later... I studied for a time with an older sister. Her understanding of the way of plants was extremely profound, and I benefited greatly."

"An older sister?" Chrysanthemum Douluo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his eyes. "Was she also a plant-type Soul Master?"

"Yes." You paused. "Her Martial Soul was Blue Silver Grass, just like mine."

Chrysanthemum Douluo nodded slightly and asked no more.

"Half a year ago, I went to Heaven Dou City and imposed on Senior Dugu's hospitality for several months, reading through the books in his residence."

"Dugu Bo? That old poison fiend?" Chrysanthemum Douluo's voice rose slightly, a hint of amusement flashing through his eyes. "He let you touch his books?"

You smiled. "Senior Dugu may be rather solitary by nature, but he wasn't stingy with me. Before I left, he said that when it came to studying and obsessing over flowers and plants, there was probably no one in the world who could compare to you, Senior Chrysanthemum."

Chrysanthemum Douluo's hand paused in midair with his teacup for an instant before he scoffed. "That old poison fiend would say something good about me?"

You rubbed your nose awkwardly. "Well... although Senior Dugu doesn't quite get along with you, he truly does hold your talent and character in very high regard."

The bamboo cottage fell silent for a moment.

The chrysanthemum petal in the cup slowly sank, spiraling through the jade-green tea before finally coming to rest.

Chrysanthemum Douluo looked down at the tea, the corners of his mouth softening almost imperceptibly. After a long while, he gave a quiet scoff. "For once, that old poison fiend said something fit for human ears."

He returned the teacup to the table, his movements a little gentler than before. His pale golden eyes lifted once more, and as they settled on your face, some of his customary reserve and distance had faded.

"Since you've come to the Chrysanthemum Garden, there must be some affinity between us." He interlaced his fingers on the table, his expression turning more serious. "Tell me, then. What is the way of plants?"

You set down your teacup and straightened up. After a moment's thought, you began, "I believe the way of plants can be divided into three levels-"

"The first is identification." Your voice was steady and unhurried. "Knowing the countless varieties, distinguishing whether their medicinal properties are cold or hot, recognizing which are poisonous and which are edible. This level relies on keen eyes and memory. With enough observation and reading, it comes naturally."

Chrysanthemum Douluo nodded slightly.

"The second is combination." You paused. "Understanding how medicinal properties support and counteract one another, turning poison into medicine and using medicine to nourish the soul. This level relies on insight. Understand their nature and principles, draw three inferences from one example and see connections between related things, and you can use the plants of a single patch of land to meet ten thousand changes."

"And the third?"

"The third-" Your voice unconsciously softened. "I believe it should be feeling."

Chrysanthemum Douluo raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised. "Tell me more."

"Identification uses the eyes, and combination uses the mind." You pointed to your chest. "But feeling uses the heart."

Chrysanthemum Douluo motioned for you to continue.

"My sister once said that all things have spirits, and plants are no exception. Truly understanding them isn't about how many kinds of flowers and herbs you recognize, or how complex a potion you can concoct. It's about bending down and listening with your heart."

"If you place yourself above them as a Soul Master, they are merely medicinal ingredients and tools. Only by setting aside your status and befriending plants will they truly open their essence to you, telling you what they need and seek, their own characteristics, the flow of their vitality..."

You opened your hand, palm upward, and a stalk of Blue Silver Grass quietly appeared.

The veins on its leaves shimmered faintly in the sunlight. A mild, gentle aura of plants spread from your body, silently mingling with the winter chrysanthemums in the room-

As though an invisible breeze had brushed across a flower bed, the petals of the winter chrysanthemums in the vase trembled lightly. Their stems slowly stretched, turning subtly toward you, as if responding, or perhaps listening.

Chrysanthemum Douluo said nothing.

He quietly watched the stalk of Blue Silver Grass in your palm, a very faint, almost wistful look rising in his pale golden eyes.

Only after a long while did he speak, his voice softer than before. "That sister of yours... truly is a remarkable person."

He looked up at you, more genuine feeling in his gaze, as though he were looking through you and speaking across the distance with someone he had never met, yet who shared his interests.

"Eight or nine out of ten plant-type Soul Masters in this world spend their time thinking about how to refine medicine, make poisons, and kill enemies. In all my years, your sister is the only person I've ever heard of who could say, 'feel with your heart.'"

"Having the chance to know her truly was one of life's great joys."

You lowered your head, pressing your surging thoughts deep into your heart, and said only softly, "She... truly is a very gentle person."

Chrysanthemum Douluo asked no further questions.

He rose, his plain white robe brushing the corner of the table in the morning light and stirring a few dried petals.

"Come with me."

You dispersed the wisp of Soul Power at your fingertips and followed him through several flower beds, around a jade-green lotus pond, and into the depths of the courtyard.

Amid the sheltering bamboo, a three-story pavilion stood quietly. Its sweeping eaves curled upward at the corners beneath a roof of blue-green tiles, and several glazed lanterns hung under the eaves, swaying gently in the breeze.

The entire pavilion was built from thousand-year-old timber. A faint golden sheen glimmered within the grain, evidently steeped in Soul Power for years, preserving it against decay for a thousand years.

A red sandalwood plaque hung above the main entrance, bearing the words "Fragrant Collection Pavilion" in elegant, flowing calligraphy, written by the same hand as the "Chrysanthemum Garden" plaque at the courtyard gate.

Chrysanthemums of every color surrounded the pavilion: golden thread chrysanthemums, ink chrysanthemums, green calyx chrysanthemums, purple dragon lying in snow... layer upon layer, competing in beauty and splendor.

Bluestone paths ran between the flowers, dotted along their edges with Taihu stones of various shapes. Mottled moss covered the stones, which had clearly been there for many years.

A rich floral fragrance filled the air, yet it was not overpowering. Instead, it held a mellow gentleness that soothed the mind.

"This is my library." Chrysanthemum Douluo gestured with delicately poised fingers, a barely perceptible trace of pride rising in his eyes. "It houses the texts on flowers and plants I've collected throughout my life. From ordinary illustrated herb guides to ancient secret records of immortal specimens, it has everything."

As the heavy wooden door opened, a scent of old paper, dried flowers, and ink washed over you, cool but not damp, carrying the stillness left by the passage of years.

The furnishings inside were simple, yet elegance showed in every detail.

The first floor had neither doors nor windows, standing open on all four sides. In its center stood a red sandalwood bookcase reaching from floor to ceiling, roughly thirty feet tall, with seven tiers, each densely packed with books.

A bamboo ladder leaned beside the bookcase, its joints rubbed smooth and lustrous, allowing readers to retrieve rare, unique volumes from the higher shelves.

You climbed the spiral staircase.

Twelve mottled-bamboo screens divided the second floor into several rooms, each furnished with a desk and chair. Brush, ink, paper, and inkstone were laid out on every desk, evidently making these rooms places for studying books and copying notes.

Farther up, the third floor narrowed abruptly.

There was only a single quiet chamber, its doors and windows tightly shut. Faint fluctuations of Soul Power seeped from within; it was presumably where Chrysanthemum Douluo secluded himself for contemplation.

"You may read any book here." Chrysanthemum Douluo stood before the bookcase with his hands behind his back, his pale golden eyes passing over the yellowed pages. "But you must neither damage them nor take them outside the pavilion. In this life, aside from flowers, books are what I love."

You nodded solemnly. "I understand."

Chrysanthemum Douluo took a heavy volume from the highest shelf, his movements exceedingly gentle. He first lowered his head and turned through two pages, his fingertips slowly tracing the embroidered gold-thread patterns, then turned the spine in his palm so that the cover faced you.

The book was bound in some unknown beast's hide. Its cover was dark brown, warm and smooth as jade to the touch, with six large ancient seal-script characters embroidered in gold thread: "Illustrated Catalogue of Immortal Herbs."

A small golden chrysanthemum emblem was also inlaid in its spine, its overlapping petals exactly like Chrysanthemum Douluo's Martial Soul. It was clearly a token passed down through generations.

"This Illustrated Catalogue of Immortal Herbs contains detailed illustrations and medicinal properties of the world's immortal herbs. From the proper time to harvest them to their use and combinations, nothing is missing. It is an heirloom of my family."

He held the book out to you, supporting its spine with his little finger raised, and released it only once you had a secure hold.

"You may study it here, but you must not copy it, much less pass its contents on to anyone else."