Hao only gave himself one minute to catch his breath, hungry, tired, and with an ache passing through his body. He was still holding the saber on the beast’s neck. Not a drop of blood other than the slight trickle from the beast’s hanging mouth. His thrill from the battle dying.

  Lost in thought, he dreamed; dreaming of a quick breakfast, dried bread slathered in Meiqi’s homemade jam. Zhengqi would finish her meal sooner than him just to get hot water ready. Together, the mother and daughter would force Hao into the tub filled halfway with hot water, “You’re a person, not a cat,” Meiqi would say, cornering him. He would hear a few strange teases and whatever lesson they felt like teaching for that morning.

  They woke before the sun rose. Just so they could bathe and have the food ready when he woke. Yet their freshly clean robes, white and without label, got dirtied, taking care of him before the sun was round, just a bright curve on the horizon.

  They sacrifice too much… It was longer than just the days he had been in the secret realm since he saw them. He was just starting to remember how many days he spent away from home. Only coming back the day he carried Grandma He up to them, a burden he left upon them. Alongside Grandpa He’s corpse. And once again he left, leaving them nothing, only food to get stolen away because they were mortals on a Cultivator mountain.

  Hao listened, watching closely as the beast’s throat made a final hollow roar. His saber disappeared with the giant feline beast’s final breath. Its belly was flat, and its lungs deflated. Never to rise again.

  Hao went back and forth performing all that remaining to do like they were chores, not lazily, with precision and care.

  He knew the anatomy of other beasts. But this specific one was an unknown among documented beasts. The description that would fit best was feline. However, none were ever brought to the butcher's hall.

  Hao didn’t dare to carve the beast down. He had a little experience and knowledge from working alongside Li Tuzai, but a little experience, no matter how many hours of practice, was still little. He did harvest what he could; What was most precious and accessible, dragging the rest of the enormous body to the cave’s mouth to drain the giant of its blood.

  The Yellow-Yellow grass, or Noon-Bright grass too, took a good chunk of the afternoon. Most of the time was just pacing around it. His leg grew more sore with each step, any bumps or scraps he wrapped with spare cloth for now while looking at the flower.

  He knew what it was, but found it unbelievable to find such a precious plant. Well, the compass found it, and the one guarding it. The compass has stopped all movements. The silver bead inside dissipated. Hao didn’t know if the trade-off was worthwhile. An Artifact that could find treasures and living creatures, people included dying for one treasure.

  That depends on if the herb is as useful as what was written.

  The grass and its flower had pages of documentation, so much so that there were two translations of its name. It was on the first floor of the library, free for anyone who could find it. The sect likely kept the information well-known, wanting it turned into the sect if ever found.

  Hao didn’t harvest the grass, its most potent hour already passed on the day. More than that, one could prolong its yield. At every noon during the summer, the flower produced both the sap and pollen, and a tiny amount would burn away in the night.

  It was beautiful as well. He wants to admire it before harvesting its sap and sending it to hide away until next summer’s wake. Yet, he had to harvest it. Hao would not have it any other way. He would let anyone else have a whiff of it, not anyone who was or could be his enemy.

  He watched the grass sway. Flower petals catching wind, while falling blood dripped, tapping away, filling jar after jar, jars he kept for this exact purpose. There was more blood than he had jars for. He let the Drinking-Stone have the rest, storing the body in the Spirit-Holding bag which he was certain stopped rot and decay. From what little blood was remaining, a Vital Crystal, fist-sized, shining as gold and pure as any other.

  The World Energy inside the bag got heavier than the World Energy that came off the Saber-Wielding man, who was stronger than both Hao and the slain beast.

  Along with the growing abundance of heavy world energy, the Vital Crystals were piling up, making leaving the flower alone all the harder. He knew the effects of the crystal on plants.

  In the end, Hao did not truly leave the grass alone. He went back and forth from the cave mouth to the grass while clouds were gathering in the sky. His stomach shouting at him to eat.

  Hao collected what pollen had escaped the grass’s influence, falling to the ground and floating away. He gathered it, pushing it back; helping any possible pollination along.

  I could take an unreasonably large chunk of dirt, everything around the flower into the Spirit-Holding bag. He shook his head at the thought. Even knowing he could keep the plant barely alive, he worried about its well-being. If I take just a few pieces of grass… Hao gulped. Not taking all of it was a matter of respect and the plant itself. A piece of help to all those who came after him, and if they cause him or the grass harm, may karma take them.

  Hao broke down a few Vital Crystals, creating a soft gold powder. If there was any water other than the coming and going rain, he would mix the gold powder in, throwing it directly on the plant. But the rain would arrive soon. He took a handful, several crystals’ worth and threw a fair amount of the powder on the yellow grass. If he did not use the powder to feed such a treasure, he would be a fool among fools.

  When the first drop of water fell from the curtain of clouds, Hao went deep into the cave. He held a hand above his nose, losing the fresh air that was coming from outside. The smell just a few steps in was oppressive. Hao didn’t have a hound’s nose, but its strength was undeniable.

  He was used to the fresh air of the forest, or the earthy smell of stone, outside of those natures he knew only the cleanliness of the sect. The best comparison was the butcher's hall. But even the butcher hall was clean.

  The beast was young, tough-skinned, without the intellect to think beyond itself, but it was not entirely indecent. The source of the smell was the remains of his hunts. Piles of bones, scatter skin and hide, chunks of flesh beneath the notice of the well-fed beast. The air was sour with rot.

  The cave was large, it had been a house to the beast. The width of the cave was obvious from the outside by the mouth. Its depths were much more than Hao expected. A welcome inconvenience.

  Bones lay in stacks and heaps, licked clean and gnawed, the largest of them on display by themselves around the only spot that was clean and dry. They had what seemed like spots of fur but were just fuzzy mold.

  In a corner, a loud dripping was picking up pace—Water! Hao held himself back, gulping air. His hands were already dirty, and any bones worth displaying for a beast would have some value. Hao began to clean and store them, they were of no use to him, but he could exchange them for Sect points.

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  Hao leaped back after lifting a few bones, a disturbing feeling following his footsteps from under the resting place. It was a haunting feeling. He knew resentment; he had felt it himself but not from the dead, a mystical power far above his own. A power of another realm beyond the living. He had knowledge of monk methods, and calming arts from his studies before being rejected by the Temple. Luckily, the resentment felt weak.

  Strength was not a fuel for resentment, emotion was, rage and hatred, a rejection of reality. There were no human bones to be found. But such feelings were beyond the bones of the beasts in the cave.

  A certain level of spirituality was required for resentment to form unless it was a grudge formed from years of battle in the same location. But that was unlikely. The purpose of the beast that lived in this cave was to guard the grass. A grass that only flowered at summer’s start, which was only weeks ago.

  Hao used the knowledge of the Water Temple Monks, his great uncle’s teachings, to his advantage. A bright and clear ring should calm resentment before it forms into a spirit. If there was a spirit already, Hao and the feline beast would have never battled. Both would have died the moment they entered the cave.

  He summoned both the spear and saber from the spirit-holding bag, striking the two together. The loud ring shook the cave. The world fell into silence, the resentment quiet, leaving just the soothing sound of quickly dripping water.

  Hao did his search and clean with curiosity peaked, dangerously so. He peeled mold from the bones that were displayed, removing any sort of possible contamination before storing them in the bag when clean.

  But he did not find the thing he was most interested in, inside the pile of bones. Underneath at the very bottom, he found the most unusual set. Slightly beaked with canine teeth, upright thumbed and pristine from toe to horn. The oldest set of bones based on position in the pile, but the cleanest, like they were just scrubbed down in a spring.

  Humanoid, but beastly, viciously so. A member of the Monster race?

  More myth and legend than immortals themselves, even Immortals did not speak of such things outside of stories. Hao thought he knew where to draw the line between myth and reality now. Once again, he was humbled.

  What children’s story is going to jump out next? If the Monster race exists, then monsters beasts? Spirit beasts? Divine Spirits? Hao nearly fell backward.

  Humanity was born with great spirituality, not even a year ago, he thought it was impossible to pursue it further. But all things had the opportunity to seek it out or ignore it. Aim for immortality, or remain a mortal. But if such things, godlike from birth, like the one in his hand, existed, the Human Race would have long been oppressed. Yet the evidence was shaking in his stiff fingers.

  Hao tried turning his head, but it was hard to pretend he did not see what was in front of him. It was harder to believe that if such a creature existed, it would lose to the one he killed. Hao didn’t have to clean the monster’s skeleton. They were pristine, nearly shining. He placed them alone, isolated into the bag as best he could, next to the Drinking-Stone.

  A renovation of the cave was necessary next, he had to release the World Energy in the bag. It would be a hindrance soon. He didn’t dare go forward towards the mountains with extra weight burdening him. A disadvantage for him would be an advantage for everyone else. A shortcut to dying.

  Hao didn’t have time to alter the whole cave. Only digging a small tunnel to the side with a stone hatch to seal it.

  With all that done, his worries disappeared as he approached the water. Finally, seeing water after days of sweating and freezing with only a few droplets to steal in the morning made a big grin grow on his face. He used one of the many cauldrons that he purchased for cooking to gather some and wash himself, and drank madly after he tasted it. He gathered more from the pool. Slowly filling up again from the ceiling’s drip. Keeping some for himself and watering the plants in the Spirit-Holding bag, they needed it more than him. He didn’t stop until the pool was just a slick stone.

  The Drinking-Stone, as of recently, seemed to have less interest in rainwater, it would absorb it if it was close. But now, it was interested in richer things. Any sort of soup that had a relation to life. Its frequent diet of demonic beast blood left it spoiled for anything weaker.

  The rest of what was in the bag was materials. If someone were to see the inside of the bag, they would be stunned with confusion, then concern. Sticks and stones, soil, plants, bones, books, other holding bags, blood, and a half-dissect monstrous beast body. Isolated blades clanged together; one for nearly every profession, work, or for various forms of killing.

  Not to mention the more important and precious things he kept a little more hidden. A pretty ocean-blue stone that feasted endlessly on death, emitting a holy white light. A complete skeleton from a legendary species nearby.

  The only thing that was missing was water and prepared food. Most of it traded away for a compass that broke after a few days of use. Now there were just shriveled berries and fruit, and meat raw or rotten.

  *

  The water above was falling from an unknown spot, but where it would land was obvious. A puddle reformed as the drip turned into a full flow. Thunder tearing through the sky could be heard in the cave.

  Hao collected what he could in a cauldron, drinking as he pleased. He left his waterskin for his next trip. A lesson well learned in recent days. He had little time to eat in the past days too. Little time for anything except moving, collecting, and Cultivating. Even his thoughts of solitude left him. Until he felled the beast guarding the cave, then he found relief for but a moment.

  He was embracing a new kind of life, but food was a lacking necessity and tension was constantly high.

  Right now, he had plenty of water and a freshly slain beast, the one he just battled. Of course, he would need a fire, and one more pot, a bigger cauldron to cook it. Hao already had a plan. He had been thinking about it; he would boil the bones of lesser value he had access to, long and slow. Once he had the broth, he would drink it down, and boil the bones again, this time in the fat of the same beast. Once the bones were nice and soft, he would have them too. Taste and appearance were second to the benefits and survival.

  It is safe to cook right, nothing will sniff me out… The only thing he had to worry about was animals. Humans didn’t have beast noses. They were more eager to find treasure in the mountains than to find food. Most of the beasts were already timid enough. He doubted they would approach the territory of the one being cooked because of his smell.

  I could use a warm night either way. I would prefer sleeping under a sheet of ice to choking myself in that cloak again. Now the cloak was becoming as beat up as his robes. The cold was a bother less than the ice, but he was getting used to it. He often threw the cloak aside during moments of Cultivation. That did not mean a bit of warm comfort was unwelcome for a night of sleep.

  Hao got a fire going. It was quick to rage, taking its fair share of dry wood as it smoked up the cave. The cauldron was the opposite. It was massive. The cauldron could fit six people inside if they were fit in snugly, standing up to Hao’s ribs. It took a while to fill. He put it over the fire once it was halfway.

  It took only a moment to get the bones he would use, cleaning them of anything that wanted to stay attached. The less important bones with almost no value. Usually used for trophies or left behind waste and disrespected. The Skull and jaw, removing the teeth. Paw bones, claws gathered and set aside, and a few vertebrae, just the ones he could reach without taking the hide off fully.

  They were as fresh as life, only marrow and bone remaining as Hao began throwing bits into the pot.

  The water was boiling by the time lightning was streaming down. Hao rushed outside to make a few ‘insights’. The lightning rejected Hao, but failed to kill him each time. Each time, he got closer and closer to the source of the lightning, no longer absorbing it indirectly.

  Hao was running out of time to play with the extreme form of Energy. The storms in this region of the Secret Realm were getting weaker. Outside Storm Season would end soon, the same to a lesser effect would happen in the Secret Realm. Then the first stiff wind of fall would come after the Summer weeks of Yin, described by Zhengqi as: When Summer Daughters are born.

  The Yellow-Yellow Grass was unfazed by both rain and lighting, most of it curving away from the plant. If lightning struck it, no change. Steam and vapor floated around the grass from the rain, boiling away before landing. The same happened when giant balls of rain turn to ice. Melting as the wind ripped the world apart. The Flower alone was left untouched.

  Hao waited for the winds to stop and the arrival of the great Yin, eating a hunk of neck meat from the feline beast. He watched the water boil, resting before the blazing fire. An unpleasant taste and feeling. Even dead, the beast had an ice-cold aura. Its meat, fresh from the flames, felt like snow in his stomach.