Tao crouched near the fire, his fingers running over the golden veined leaves of the Golden Root Orchid. The flickering light made the delicate veins shimmer, a reminder of the potential locked within the plant. After bringing back the Shadowfang Lynx to the cave, he and Jian had gone out again to scavenge the surrounding area for herbs, but only a few seemed useful.

  The Sunpetal Flower had proven insufficient; it purified Qi partially but left unstable remnants behind, making absorption risky. The Golden Root Orchid, however, showed promise. Its natural properties seemed to stabilize the energy flow, smoothing the volatile currents left behind by beast cores.

  But it was painfully slow.

  Jian sat nearby, sharpening his sword with steady, practiced strokes. The rhythmic scraping of metal against whetstone filled the cave. His sharp eyes flicked to Tao’s experiment.

  “At this rate, we’ll grow old before we refine enough Qi to make a difference,” he muttered, watching as Tao extracted another minuscule amount from a beast core.

  Tao exhaled in frustration. “The Orchid works better than the others, but we don’t have time for this. If only we could accelerate the process somehow.” He turned the leaf in his hand, rolling it between his fingers, considering their options.

  Jian raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking about forcing it to grow stronger?”

  Tao nodded. He had used the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique to help plants grow before, but this was different. If he could enhance the Orchid’s properties, it might refine beast core energy faster.

  Jian leaned forward slightly. “Worth a try. But won’t it drain your Qi?”

  Tao allowed himself a small smile. “That’s why we brought back the lynx.”

  The Shadowfang Lynx lay nearby, its sleek black fur still gleaming despite its death. Although it was a low grade spirit beast, its meat still contained enough Qi to make it a valuable resource for recovery.

  Earlier, they had butchered the beast, preserving the Qi rich meat as much as possible.

  Jian sheathed his sword. “Let’s eat first. You’ll need strength before attempting anything reckless.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Tao didn’t argue. The two of them worked together, roasting the lynx meat over the fire. As the rich, savoury scent filled the cave, Tao still felt the fatigue in his limbs from their earlier battle. The fight had been short but draining, and the cost of exertion had settled deep into his bones.

  The first bite sent a warm pulse of Qi spreading through his meridians, the beast’s natural energy sinking into his body. His muscles loosened, his exhaustion fading. Across from him, Jian exhaled in relief.

  “This is better than absorbing Heaven and Earth Qi,” he admitted, leaning against the cave wall.

  Tao finished his portion, wiped his hands, and refocused on the Golden Root Orchid. Now replenished, he checked that the plant was carefully placed in the soil, then he placed both hands on the plant and began channelling his Qi.

  Tao guided his Qi with precision, splitting it into two controlled streams, one sinking into the roots, the other dispersing into the air. The cave grew still as fine droplets of Qi infused rain shimmered into existence, falling gently. Each droplet pulsed faintly before falling onto the plant and the surrounding soil, its energy spreading in measured waves. At the same time, Tao fed a steady pulse of Qi directly into the roots, stabilizing their foundation. The plant quivered under the sudden influx, its structures resisting the change.

  He adjusted the flow carefully; too much, and the delicate roots would wither; too little, and they wouldn’t strengthen. Minutes passed. The shimmering rain continued to fall. The plants trembled, golden veins pulsing as they hovered on the brink of rejection. Tao gritted his teeth, refining his control. Slowly, the resistance eased, the roots steadied, drawing in the energy instead of resisting it. The glow deepened, spreading across the stems and leaves in faint, rhythmic pulses.

  Jian watched in silence as Tao concentrated, carefully feeding the plant his Qi in slow, measured pulses. Minutes passed. Then—

  Tao withdrew his hands, exhaling sharply. A thin sheen of sweat dampened his brow, but satisfaction shone in his eyes.

  The Orchid's roots burst from the soil, writhing as if alive. The entire plant twisted and throbbed, its shape shifting as dark tendrils of Qi leaked from it.

  Jian stiffened. “That’s not normal.”

  Tao’s breath was ragged, sweat beading on his forehead. He had expected an improvement, but not this level of reaction. The plant was no longer just stabilizing Qi; it was absorbing it, transforming itself.

  Then, with a final pulse of energy, the Orchid settled, its glow stabilizing into a deep, rich gold. The air around it hummed with latent power.

  Tao withdrew his hands, his body trembling slightly from the exertion. But when he met Jian’s gaze, his eyes shone with excitement.

  “It worked.”

  Jian picked up one of the leaves, turning it between his fingers. A faint warmth radiated from it, far denser than before. “Will it refine Qi any faster now?”

  Tao grabbed a beast core, tested a small sample, and watched as the Orchid absorbed and purified the energy at triple the previous speed.