The sound of the morning bell gradually faded, and the various disciples in the square dispersed in turn. Those with Metal Spirit Roots and superior aptitudes were led to the halls to hear lectures on the scriptures and the Dao, receiving personal guidance from their teachers, while the Gray Spirit Root disciples were led by a duty disciple to a corner of the outer courtyard to receive the most ordinary work assignments.
The duty disciple announced coldly, "Gray Spirit Roots have inferior aptitude, making it difficult to cultivate spiritual arts right away. You must begin with menial work to discipline your bodies and temper your dispositions. You will sweep the bamboo grove, carry water and stones, and tend the lamps on night watch. Only by completing your work properly can you earn Spirit Stones and books, and gradually begin your studies."
As soon as he finished, many Gray Spirit Root disciples hung their heads in dejection. Some even could not help grumbling under their breath, "How is this cultivating the Dao? How is it any different from ordinary labor...?"
But none dared resist, and they all dispersed in silence.
Qin Yu and Yang Zheng were assigned to the same group. Their tasks were to sweep fallen leaves from the bamboo grove every day, carry spring water to the stone troughs in the outer courtyard, and move heavy stones to repair the courtyard walls.
Under the blazing sun, Qin Yu bent over, gathering the fallen leaves again and again, sweat soaking his gray cloth clothes. Carrying stones had rubbed red marks into his small hands, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered. Yang Zheng helped carry water nearby. The skin on his shoulders had been rubbed raw, yet he was still smiling. "Ha, what's a little hardship like this? Back home in Northern Cold, I had to go hunting in the mountains every day. Going hungry for two days was nothing unusual. Being able to survive here is already better than before."
Qin Yu looked up, his young face covered in beads of sweat, and said softly, "Mm, I... I'm not afraid either."
Yang Zheng paused. Looking at his thin but stubborn figure, he could not help breaking into a broad laugh. "That's the spirit! Even with Gray Spirit Roots, the two of us will stand tall between heaven and earth! We may yet carve out a path someday!"
Qin Yu's eyes gradually brightened, as though a tiny flame had been kindled in his heart. He remembered his mother's tearful reminders and silently answered deep inside, No matter what, I won't disappoint her.
The two worked side by side, and laughter gradually rose through the bamboo grove. A hunter's son from Northern Cold and an amnesiac boy from an ordinary village began their friendship in the lowliest corner of this immortal sect.
They might have been humble, but deep within the bamboo grove, they strove to grow upward like two newly sprouted bamboo shoots.
The sun set, stretching the bamboo grove's shadows long, and the Gray Spirit Root disciples dragged their weary bodies toward the outer courtyard's stone dining hall.
The dining hall was extremely crude, no more than a spacious stone building with mottled walls and rows of stone tables. The food was plain as well: wooden tubs held coarse mixed-grain rice, alongside a pot of wild vegetable soup with barely any oil in it. The smell of firewood and grass roots filled the air, far inferior to the fragrant spiritual meals served to the inner courtyard disciples.
The disciples sat down in twos and threes with wooden bowls in their hands. Some remained silent, while others grumbled softly, "Hmph, we're nothing but the lowest servants."
"If I'd known it would be like this, I might as well have stayed back home."
Qin Yu and Yang Zheng sat side by side in a corner, with only a bowl of mixed-grain rice and a bowl of clear soup before them.
Yang Zheng wolfed down half his bowl of rice in one go, then smiled at Qin Yu. "The taste isn't great, but it's much better than what I had at home. Heavy snow often seals off the mountains in Northern Cold. Going hungry for three or four days is common. Where would we get hot soup?"
Qin Yu ate in small bites, his eyes sparkling. "Mm, I think... it's delicious."
Yang Zheng froze for a moment, then burst out laughing and patted his shoulder. "You really are an optimist!"
As his laughter faded, Yang Zheng gazed at the palace lanterns lighting up in the distance, his eyes suddenly turning serious. "Yuzi, do you think... those of us with Gray Spirit Roots are destined to be looked down on?"
Qin Yu looked up, thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Mother said that no matter what other people think, as long as you work hard, it won't... it won't be wasted."
Yang Zheng paused, then gave an honest smile. "That's right! Even with a Gray Spirit Root, I, Yang Zheng, will carve out a path. Even if I can't soar through the heavens and burrow through the earth someday, I'll still be able to protect my family!"
Qin Yu's eyes brightened slightly, and a sense of kinship arose in his heart. He repeated softly, "Protect... family."
They exchanged a smile, and even the crude meal seemed to become delicious.
The bamboo grove swayed in the wind, and the lamps in the stone building were dim, yet this simple exchange brought a trace of warmth and hope.
The Gray Spirit Root disciples might have been humble, but the dreams and convictions planted in their hearts had already begun taking root and sprouting.
Night lay heavy, and insect calls and the sound of wind drifted through the bamboo grove. The Gray Spirit Root disciples' quarters gradually fell quiet, with many collapsing into sleep after a day of labor.
Yet in one crude bamboo hut, a small oil lamp still flickered.
Qin Yu sat cross-legged before the wooden bed, the writing copybook and simple cultivation instructions the teacher had taught them during the day spread open in his lap. His gaze was focused, nothing like that of a thirteen-year-old boy; instead, he seemed to be becoming one with the books.
His fingertips brushed gently across the pages, and wherever his gaze fell, the words seemed to engrave themselves into the sea of his mind.
"Qi moves with the breath, and breath unites with the heart... In cultivating the Dao, single-minded focus is paramount..."
After silently reciting it once, he could repeat it in full.
Even when some phrases in the book were complex, he could remember them through intuition and silently compare them with what he had witnessed during the day's labor.
The shifting center of balance he had felt while carrying water and the steady application of strength he had grasped while moving stones quietly corresponded now to the words on the page: "Qi circulates throughout the body, the roots firm as a mountain."
In the flickering lamplight, determination shone on his small face. Sweat slid down his forehead, but did nothing to diminish his focus.
A night passed, and he had turned through dozens of pages. Qin Yu repeated softly, "The first volume of the Breath-Nurturing Chapter... I've memorized all of it."
He closed his eyes, his mind lingering among those words, as though the entire bamboo hut quietly echoed with his youthful reading voice.
Outside the window, the wind rustled through the bamboo grove, as if accompanying this unremarkable boy with a Gray Spirit Root.
He might have occupied the lowliest position in the immortal sect, but in this dim bamboo hut, the purest light shone.
Mother, I won't disappoint you. The boy silently swore in his heart.
The east had only just turned fish-belly white when the morning bell of Cloud-Leveling Hall boomed like startling thunder, its echoes shaking the mountain forests. One by one, the Gray Spirit Root disciples crawled out of their bamboo huts, bleary-eyed, and dragged their heavy bodies to assemble. Some were still yawning, while others rubbed their aching shoulders and quietly complained about yesterday's labor.
Qin Yu alone showed no sign of fatigue. Instead, he was full of vigor, his eyes clear and bright. He neatly put away his books and coarse cloth clothes, and when he stepped out of the bamboo hut, his strides were steady, his eyes carrying a rare confidence and composure.
"Yuzi, didn't you sleep last night? How are you still so lively?" Yang Zheng approached with a yawn, his face full of surprise.
Qin Yu smiled, his voice young but clear. "I... read until very late, but... I don't feel tired."
Yang Zheng froze, then laughed. "You really are a strange one!"
By the time they reached the training ground side by side, the duty disciple was already waiting there. His gaze swept over the crowd, initially making only a casual inspection, but when his eyes landed on Qin Yu, they could not help pausing for a moment.
Among the dusty, dispirited children, Qin Yu's vigor made him stand out like a crane among chickens.
The duty disciple narrowed his eyes and thought, This boy may have a Gray Spirit Root, but there's something unusual about him.
Morning training began. The disciples were required to carry stones, sit in meditation and practice breathing, repeatedly performing basic exercises. Many were left panting with exhaustion, but Qin Yu gritted his teeth and persisted. His movements were clumsy, yet exceptionally earnest. He even quietly repeated the mnemonic verses he had memorized the night before during breaks in his labor, continually combining the words with his physical experiences.
Watching from a distance, the duty disciple felt a rare flicker of approval.
The Gray Spirit Root disciples might have been destined for lowliness, but this boy seemed to be taking a different step in his own way.
The morning bell gradually fell silent, and the basic labor on the training ground came to an end as well. The children collapsed onto the stone ground one after another, panting heavily.
"That's all for today. Dismissed." The duty disciple put away the command token at his waist, his voice cold and clear, but as he swept his gaze over the crowd one last time, he suddenly spoke. "Qin Yu, stay."
A wave of whispers immediately rose through the crowd.
"Why did he call him out?"
"Did he get into trouble?"
"What's there to see in a Gray Spirit Root disciple?"
Qin Yu paused, instinctively looking toward Yang Zheng. Yang Zheng winked at him and whispered, "Don't be afraid. You're more diligent than any of them. It definitely won't be anything bad."
Once the crowd had dispersed, the duty disciple clasped his hands behind his back and looked at Qin Yu, asking evenly, "Did you read last night?"
Qin Yu nodded cautiously. "Mm... I read the Breath-Nurturing Chapter."
A meaningful gleam flashed through the duty disciple's eyes. He casually traced several mnemonic hand gestures in the air. "Recite it for me."
The boy blinked, then recited the entire passage word for word with almost no pause. His voice was young, but not a single word was wrong.
The duty disciple raised an eyebrow, though he could still contain his surprise. He nodded. "A good memory. But merely memorizing it doesn't amount to much. Tell me, what do these mnemonic verses mean?"
By rights, Gray Spirit Root disciples who had only just entered the sect and were not even familiar with spiritual breathing could not possibly understand their true meaning. Yet Qin Yu thought earnestly for a moment, then answered slowly, "Qi... moves with breathing. When breathing is steady, Qi flows smoothly. Qi travels through the whole body, like... like how you have to hold the buckets steady when carrying water, so the water won't spill."
The duty disciple froze.
He had not expected this child not only to memorize it, but also to connect it with the simplest analogy on his own. That instinct for naturally combining mnemonic verses with everyday experience was precisely the mark of someone with exceptional comprehension.
An unexpected surge of excitement rose in his heart, but his expression remained stern as he said evenly, "Very good. You may go. Study diligently every day from now on, and never slack off."
Qin Yu nodded earnestly, his eyes clear, his voice young but firm. "Mm, I'll work hard."
The duty disciple watched that small figure disappear into the bamboo grove. After a long silence, he murmured, "Gray Spirit Roots... may not truly be useless roots after all. This boy might be an uncut jade."
Toward evening, dusk deepened within the bamboo grove, and insect calls rose and fell. Having finished their labor, the Gray Spirit Root disciples returned to their bamboo huts one after another.
Qin Yu pushed open the wooden door and had only just put down his books when Yang Zheng strode inside, his face brimming with excitement. "Yuzi! Tell me, why did the duty disciple call you out today? Did he catch you secretly doing something wrong?"
Then he scratched his head and grinned again. "No, that's not right. You're so honest, how could you get into trouble? It must have been something good, right?"
Qin Yu paused, then answered softly, "The duty disciple... had me recite the Breath-Nurturing Chapter. I remembered all of it."
Yang Zheng's eyes went round. "You remembered all of it? After one reading?"
Qin Yu nodded, his expression earnest. "Mm, he also asked what it meant. I... said it was like keeping the buckets steady when carrying water."
Yang Zheng stared for a long while, then suddenly burst out laughing, slapping his thigh as he exclaimed, "Haha, no wonder! You really do have something in you! No wonder the duty disciple noticed you."
When he had laughed enough, he grew serious again and patted Qin Yu's shoulder. "Yuzi, you really are a treasure! So what if you have a Gray Spirit Root? As long as you're quicker-witted than others, you can go one step farther than them. Don't underestimate yourself."
Qin Yu's ears reddened slightly at his words, and he said softly, "I just... don't want to disappoint Mother."
Yang Zheng paused, his gaze softening. He casually slung an arm around Qin Yu's shoulders and smiled. "Brother, I understand. I joined the immortal sect to give my parents a better life too. Since we have the same goal, let's work hard together from now on. Even with Gray Spirit Roots, we can carve out a world of our own!"
Qin Yu was briefly taken aback, then raised his eyes, looked into Yang Zheng's sincere gaze, and nodded gently.
In the dim yellow lamplight, the two sat shoulder to shoulder beside the bamboo hut's wooden bed, their youthful laughter rippling into the night.
In this quiet corner of the outer courtyard, two disciples of the lowest rank quietly forged the purest friendship.
Early the next morning, after the morning bell rang, the duty disciple began assigning tasks.
Qin Yu and Yang Zheng were called by name and followed a group of Gray Spirit Root disciples to the end of the outer courtyard's stone path. There, enormous dark blue-green stones lay piled together, each weighing several hundred jin. Fine patterns were engraved across their surfaces, faintly shimmering.
The duty disciple ordered coldly, "These are Spirit Stone ore blanks. They must be carried to the spiritual pool on the rear mountain and handed over to the workshop for carving and refining. You Gray Spirit Roots aren't qualified to cultivate yet, so repay your upkeep with labor first. Even if you can't carry them, you must find a way!"
With that, he flicked his sleeve, turned, and left.
The Gray Spirit Root disciples exchanged looks, their faces turning bitter. Yang Zheng gritted his teeth, walked up to a Spirit Stone, and braced both arms beneath it, barely managing to lift it. Veins bulged on his forehead, and bloody abrasions immediately appeared on his shoulders.
"Huff... hah! Yuzi, come on, give it a try. Let's carry this one together!" Yang Zheng panted, but still grinned.
Qin Yu nodded, stepped forward, and pressed both hands against the Spirit Stone.
The instant his fingertips touched its surface, his whole body jolted-
A faint yet strange fluctuation seeped from deep within the Spirit Stone, flowing into his body along his arms like a warm current.
That force was exceedingly faint. Anyone else would have failed to notice it, but Qin Yu's mind, which never forgot anything he saw, caught it clearly.
Is this... Qi?
In an instant, he recalled the Breath-Nurturing Chapter he had recited the previous night. Its words, "Qi moves with the breath, and breath unites with the heart," actually seemed to coincide with what he was feeling now.
Qin Yu's eyes brightened slightly. His palms instinctively pressed against the Spirit Stone's patterns, and he slowly adjusted his breathing. The stone's pulse gradually synchronized with his heartbeat, and a barely perceptible glimmer seemed to flicker inside his body.
"Yuzi? Why are you spacing out? Hurry up and lift!" Yang Zheng's shout roused him from his daze.
Qin Yu immediately answered and lifted the Spirit Stone together with Yang Zheng. Though his build was slight, he actually felt much stronger than before, and carrying it was not as strenuous as he had imagined.
By the time they delivered the Spirit Stone to the spiritual pool on the rear mountain, Yang Zheng was drenched in sweat and lay flat on the ground, gasping for breath. Qin Yu was panting too, but his mind was perfectly clear, and he secretly clenched his fists.
This Spirit Stone contains the Qi of heaven and earth... I can sense it.
He did not say it aloud, only silently committing it to memory.
Deep within the bamboo grove, the morning breeze brushed gently past, and a boy of the lowest rank with a Gray Spirit Root touched the true breath of Dao cultivation for the first time through his labor.