The town's herbal registry office was a simple building. Whitewashed walls. A tiled roof with moss along the corners. No guards.
Yuhao stood outside, cloak wrapped tightly, and read the faded plaque three times before walking in.
There was no ceremony. Just a tired old clerk, a wooden counter, and a stack of blank examination scrolls.
"Name?"
"Hao."
"Age?"
"Fourteen." He paused. "Self-taught."
The clerk looked up. One brow arched.
But said nothing.
Yuhao handed over a small bundle—proof of residence, dried samples of tier-one herbs, and three basic compound recipes he'd written himself. Neat, exact script. No flourish.
The clerk gave a quiet grunt. "Sit. You'll be called."
---
The written exam was simple.
Identification of forty herbs.
Matching ten symptoms to ingredients.
Final section: open theory question.
Yuhao finished in half the allotted time.
Then waited.
At dusk, the clerk returned with a slip of parchment.
> "Provisional License – Local Grade. Restrictions: No poisoncraft. No combat salves. Authorized to brew and sell tier-one healing agents and consult on minor ailments."
He tucked it into his sleeve and left without a word.
---
Back at the cottage, Yun'er was tending the evening stew.
"You're back early," she said without turning.
"I passed."
He placed the slip on the table.
She smiled—but only a little. Not the wide, bright smiles of her old days. Just the kind she gave now. Real. Quiet.
"Does this mean you'll be busier?"
"A little."
She nodded. "I'll finish the herb sorting while you're gone."
"No need."
"I want to." Her voice was firm. "I can sit. Use the cloth gloves. Sort slowly."
Yuhao considered it. "Only if you rest afterward."
"Deal."
---
Over the next month, Yuhao made short visits into town, never more than an hour at a time.
He avoided attention. Sold basic poultices to hunters and farmers. Refused all questions about his age or origin.
People began calling him Hao the Quiet Healer.
No one asked if he lived alone.
And that was best.
Because while he kept the town at arm's length, Yun'er remained hidden.
Her strength was improving, but her beauty would draw eyes eventually. It wasn't worth the risk—not until he was strong enough to protect her fully.
He focused his nights on preparation.
Then opened the sealed section of the novice package.
The last unopened piece.
> [Ice Dragon Bloodline: Fusion Pending]
[Fuse Now? Y/N]
He didn't click Yes.
Not yet.
Not until Yun'er was fully stable.
And not until he mastered the breathing technique that could reinforce his core.
Each step needed time.
And time was something he had earned.