The Resource Dilemma

Lu Yuan's heart did not beat any faster, but his fingertips felt a little warm. He did not move. Then he got up and carefully looked over the whole patch of wasteland. There was more than one clump; several shady spots had them.

He memorized their locations and climbed back over the wall. On the way home, his face was expressionless.

At dinner, Lin Xiu sighed and said that Old Chen's son from the north of town had been gored by a Thorn Boar on the low hill. He had been badly frightened, and there had been medicine to pay for, too. "Those Soul Beast brutes are coming farther and farther out."

Lu Yuan listened quietly and finished his rice. "Dad, Mom, I want to go look around the wasteland south of town tomorrow, learn to recognize some plants."

Lu Qinghe frowned. "What for? There's nothing but wilderness there."

"Just a look. It's not far."

Lin Xiu did not object. "Be back before noon."

"Mm."

The next day, Lu Yuan went out with a chipped clay bowl, a small wooden knife he had washed clean, and a few pieces of clean coarse cloth.

He found the clump of Starlight Dew Vine, selected a tender stem, and peeled it, exposing the pale green flesh. With the blunt side of the wooden knife, he slowly pressed along its length.

There was very little juice. It was pale green and slightly astringent. He squeezed patiently, collecting almost half a bowl of cloudy liquid. He covered the bowl with coarse cloth and set it at the base of a wall in the shade.

When he was done, he clapped his hands clean and went home.

The rest of the day passed as usual. Practice, meals, conversation. Only his gaze occasionally drifted south.

It needed to sit overnight.

Lu Yuan woke at the first hint of dawn. He slipped out quietly. The morning mist had yet to clear, and the streets were empty.

The clay bowl was still there. He lifted the coarse cloth, and sure enough, the liquid had separated into layers. The upper layer was a finger's depth of pale green liquid, clear and slightly thick. The lower layer was cloudy.

It worked.

He carefully poured the clear liquid into a smaller, clean clay saucer. There was only a mouthful. He buried the cloudy residue.

He carried the saucer of clear liquid home and waited until both his parents had gone out before sitting down in his room.

The liquid in the saucer lay in a thin layer, as though a single breath could dry it up.

The knowledge said its nature was exceptionally mild and its effect weak.

But this was the first thing containing energy related to Soul Power that he had extracted from weeds with his own hands.

Without hesitation, he raised the saucer and drank. The liquid was cool and astringent. After it went down his throat, a thread of extremely faint coolness slipped into his stomach. Soon, a faint warmth bloomed in his abdomen, gentle as warm water, and slowly spread to his limbs. It lasted a quarter of an hour before fading.

There was no discomfort.

Lu Yuan quietly felt the effects. They were indeed weak; that bit of energy was not enough to cover what his father used up in half a day of practice. But it confirmed two things: the knowledge in his memory bank worked, and a low-cost path existed.

Starlight Dew Vine was not the answer, only a beginning. It was a crude chisel, but it could chip into the iron wall of his resource dilemma.

The door sounded, and Lu Qinghe came in, dusty and smelling of sweat. When he saw his son by the window, he grinned. His smile was weary, but it held a glimmer of light.

"Little Yuan, you're up? That 'whirlpool' spun a little longer today."

Lu Yuan turned and nodded. "Mm. Dad, have some water first."

He went to the stove to scoop some water, his gaze passing over the clay bowl, washed and put away in the corner.

The road was still long. But he had planted the first step firmly.

Over the next few days, Lu Yuan did not mention Starlight Dew Vine again. It was too conspicuous. He needed a safer approach.

His father came home from work too tired to lift his eyelids. Now that his Soul Power was more active, he used up more of it, and coarse rice and pickled vegetables alone could not make up for it.

That evening, Lu Qinghe sat on the doorstep, catching his breath. Lu Yuan sat down beside him, fiddling with a few grass stems.

"Dad, are you so tired after work that you can hardly lift your arms?"

"Mm," Lu Qinghe replied in a muffled voice.

Lu Yuan held out the stems. "Do you recognize this?"

"Earth sinew grass. It's everywhere." Lu Qinghe took a look. "Not worth anything."

"Mm." Lu Yuan drew out two other plants. "Grayleaf vine and three-toothed wormwood."

They were all weeds that could not have been more common around Maple Leaf Town. Lu Qinghe was puzzled.

Lu Yuan gathered the three plants together. "I worked out a folk remedy. Boil them together in water in the right proportions, and drinking it can ease fatigue a little and make you feel better. It can ward off tiredness for almost half an hour."

Lu Qinghe stared. "What?"

"It just makes you feel less tired when you drink it," Lu Yuan explained simply. "I've tested the proportions. It's not poisonous. It tastes bitter."

"How did you work that out?"

"That old book I used to learn my characters had a few damaged pages at the back, with pictures of plants and leaves and some strange things written on them." Lu Yuan's expression did not change. "I guessed and fumbled my way through it, and I thought it looked like it was talking about using these weeds together. You were so tired a while back, Dad, so I tried it in secret." He paused. "I tasted it myself first. I was fine."

The real principles behind the proportions came from an obscure case in the memory bank from his previous life. When several ordinary plants that appeared to have no Soul Power fluctuations were boiled together in specific proportions, their trace soothing components could produce a synergistic effect.

The principles were complicated, but the finished product was simple. It was just a bowl of bitter water.

Lu Qinghe was skeptical. "It really works?"

"It works," Lu Yuan said with certainty. "But the effect isn't strong. It only helps with purely physical fatigue." He looked at his father. "Dad, could you take a small jar and try it tomorrow? Just say it's a folk remedy you cobbled together yourself. If you really do feel better, could you ask your coworkers whether they'd be willing to trade something for it?"

Lu Qinghe understood. His son wanted to trade these unremarkable leaves for things.

"Trade for what?"

"Anything," Lu Yuan said. "One Copper Soul Coin, a handful of coarse rice, a few pieces of dried meat. But make it clear that I 'guessed' my way to this recipe, and there's only a little of it, so we can't supply much."

Lu Qinghe fell silent. He looked into his son's calm eyes. There was no childlike innocence in them, only earnest calculation.

"What if it doesn't work? Wouldn't that be cheating people?"

"It works," Lu Yuan emphasized again. "Dad, try it first. If it doesn't work, forget I ever mentioned it."

Lu Qinghe gritted his teeth. "All right."

That night, Lu Yuan got busy by the stove. The three weeds had long since been dried in the sun, and he measured out the proportions by feel. He simmered them over a low flame until the liquid turned a cloudy dark brown and gave off a bitter smell.

When it was done, he strained out the dregs and poured it into an old bamboo tube. There was not much, only two or three mouthfuls.

The next day, Lu Qinghe came home at dusk. His steps were lighter than usual.

He gulped down a large bowl of cool water and wiped his mouth. His dark face was alight with excitement. "It seems... it really does help a little." He lowered his voice. "I had two mouthfuls at noon. In the afternoon, while I was working with the axe, that weariness seeping out of my bones eased up quite a bit. When work ended, Old Chen was so tired he couldn't straighten his back, but I could still walk home."

The stone in Lu Yuan's heart fell to the ground. The theory had been verified once again.

"Dad, did you tell anyone else?"

"I did." Lu Qinghe pulled something from his shirt: a small strip of dark dried meat wrapped in a leaf. "Old Chen gave me this. He had a taste and said his body felt a little warmer, and the aching eased."

The piece of dried meat was small, but meat was a rare treat.

"Uncle Li and the others asked about it too," Lu Qinghe went on. "I told them everything just as you taught me. They want some to try, and said they could trade something for it." He licked his cracked lips. "Little Yuan, can we really trade it?"

"We can." Lu Yuan picked up the dried meat and handed it to his mother. "Mom, put this away." He looked at his father again. "I'll make more tomorrow. Whoever wants it can trade something for it. Copper Soul Coins are best, but food or useful things are fine too. But don't give them too much at once. Just say I'm young and can't gather that many herbs."

He set the rules: one small bamboo tube for one Copper Soul Coin or food of equal value. No haggling. Five tubes at most each day.

Control production and maintain scarcity.

Lu Qinghe only half understood, but his son's tone was certain. "All right."

The business began without a sound.