Yangchen City,
In the vast and bustling Yangchen City of the Shungchi Realm, a young man — barely in his twenties — tended to a modest little shop nestled between towering sect-run establishments and crowded marketplaces. Shelves lined with gleaming cultivation pills, fragrant healing potions, and vibrant Qi-replenishing elixirs surrounded him, the quiet hum of spiritual energy filling the air.
His name was Wei Chen, a humble cultivator who lived a quiet, solitary life. To passing mortals and wandering cultivators, he was nothing more than a small-time alchemist — a pill and elixir maker scraping by in the shadow of powerhouses and sect prodigies. No sect claimed him. No clan protected him. He stood alone.
What no one knew — and what Wei Chen himself kept well-hidden — was the truth of his spiritual root: the Holy Sage Spiritual Root, a rare but near-useless affinity for combat. Weak in martial prowess, and unfit for the battlefield, it was deemed a support-type root at best. And so, he accepted his fate in this new life — not as a warrior, but as a quiet craftsman, surviving off the coin he earned through hard work and alchemical skill.
"Another quiet day..."
Wei Chen sighed, leaning back in his worn wooden chair as he watched a few passersby meander along the quiet street. Occasionally, someone glanced toward his humble shop, but none stepped inside.
The streets of Yangchen City were unusually empty. Most of the city's cultivators and merchants had already departed for the Imperial Kai Realm, where the annual gathering of sects, clans, and empires was taking place. It was a time for high-level negotiations over the distribution of Spirit Stone mines — followed by the grand Festival of the New Lunar Year.
Wei Chen had no interest in such events.
Not only did he lack the influence to attend, but the long, expensive journey to the central realm was something he wasn't willing to make — especially after his most recent financial struggles. He preferred to save what little he earned. Besides, his wasn't the only business suffering from the current drought of customers.
Just a few buildings down were the famed pavilions and brothels run by the Lotus Leaf Sect — a sect comprised almost entirely of young, beautiful female cultivators. By day, they sold their arts, performed poetry, and entertained nobles and scholars. By night, they offered more intimate "services" to those who could afford them. Yet even their business was slowing; with the city emptying, fewer young men remained to seek their company.
Wei Chen, however, rarely visited the pleasure district.
He kept to himself, focusing on potion-making and herb gathering. He was no lecher — just a man working to survive. Ironically, many of the pavilion girls often came to his store, buying stamina-recovery elixirs that he crafted better than anyone else in the city. Their frequent visits brought him a modest fortune in low-grade spirit stones — a valuable commodity to someone like him.
Suddenly, a soft voice broke the stillness.
"Um... excuse me?"
A young woman, dressed in simple but elegant cultivator's robes, stepped timidly into Wei Chen's shop.
"Huh? Oh — how may I help you?"
Wei Chen stood and offered a calm, polite smile.
"I'm looking for some herbs… Do you happen to have any Immortal Jade Grass?"
Wei Chen blinked, visibly puzzled.
"Immortal Jade Grass...? Alright, I believe I have some in the back. Let me fetch it for you."
He moved behind the counter and disappeared into the storeroom. After rummaging for a moment, he returned holding a wooden box filled with fresh Immortal Jade Grass — more than most herbalists would ever keep in stock.
The girl's eyes widened in surprise.
She hadn't expected to find so much.
"Is that all?" Wei Chen asked respectfully.
"That's all, Senior," the girl replied with a cheerful smile.
She placed two medium-grade Spirit Stones on the counter. Wei Chen's eyes widened slightly — that was far more than the herb's worth — but he accepted them with a grateful nod.
With a small bow, the young cultivator stepped outside, mounted her flying sword, and shot into the skies at lightning speed — a common sight for sword cultivators, yet one that always left Wei Chen a little in awe.
Still, one thing lingered in his mind:
Why would anyone need Immortal Jade Grass?
To him, it was a near-useless herb — one he had found by accident on a remote mountain during a routine forage. He hadn't even bothered to refine it into anything yet.
Shrugging, he sat back down.
"Strange… but I won't complain."
Wei Chen continued cleaning up his small shop, carefully checking his inventory one last time before closing for the day. Tomorrow, as usual, he planned to head out for herb gathering — his primary source of ingredients and income.
Somewhere atop XiaQi Mountain Peak,
XiaQi Mountain was a vast region of towering peaks, home to one of the most prestigious sects in the Shungchi Realm — the Heavenly Holy Sword Sect, a major sect revered for its centuries-old sword arts and heavenly techniques.
At that moment, the same young cultivator who had recently purchased the Immortal Jade Grass landed gracefully in the grand courtyard of the sect. Without pause, she made her way toward the Fairy Pavilion, the residence of none other than the sect's famed prodigy — the Holy Sword Saintess.
Arriving before the ornate twin doors of the pavilion, she was about to knock when the doors unexpectedly opened. To her surprise, the Patriarch of the Sect, Yang Sung, stood waiting.
"Eep! My lord!" the girl exclaimed, quickly bowing in respect.
Yang Sung raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the errand girl his daughter had sent to return so soon.
"You have the Immortal Jade Grass?" he asked politely.
"Yes, my lord. I have it here," she replied, opening the wooden box to reveal the vibrant herbs inside.
Yang Sung nodded and allowed her to enter, then turned and quietly stepped away, closing the doors behind him. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he gazed at the fading sky.
He couldn't help but recall the ancient scrolls he had studied — texts that spoke of Immortal Jade Grass, a rare herb believed to restore a female cultivator's ability to conceive. According to legend, even a virgin who had long since lost the capacity for childbirth due to reaching too high a cultivation realm could regain a chance — albeit slim — through this herb.
In the case of his daughter, Sung Liuwa, it was desperation.
She had dedicated her entire life to cultivation, achieving the peak of the Soul God Transformation Stage. But in doing so, she had unknowingly crossed the threshold — her body had become too refined, too spiritually dense to bear life. Now, at over five thousand years old, she faced the reality that her womb could no longer respond to even the strongest dual cultivation methods.
Yet the scrolls claimed that with Immortal Jade Grass, there was still a ninety percent chance of conception — if properly prepared and consumed.
But now, a full day had passed.
There was no sign. No change.
No life.
"Poor daughter…" Yang Sung murmured from a lonely cliff edge, gazing at the moonlight shimmering over the peaks.
"If only… there was another way."
In the world of high cultivation, for female cultivators, bearing a child wasn't just about legacy — it was a symbol of ultimate balance: power and life-giving potential in one. But when a woman's cultivation surpassed certain limits, conception became nearly impossible. For many, this led to a tragic mental collapse known as Mindless Heart Syndrome — a spiritual breakdown where the cultivator lost all passion, morality, and connection to the world.
To lose the ability to conceive was, to some, like losing the essence of being a woman.
Yang Sung clenched his fists.
"Hmm… wait… who sold the Immortal Jade Grass?" he asked aloud, his eyes narrowing.
He remembered the herb clearly. Its quality was exceptional — far beyond anything grown or harvested by casual gatherers. This was the work of someone with great care and knowledge in herb cultivation. And yet… the Immortal Jade Grass was said to be extinct in most known regions. Finding it in this state was like discovering a pearl in a thunderstorm.
Curious and concerned, Yang Sung summoned the young girl again and asked her to explain where she had acquired the herbs.
With a respectful bow, she responded, "I heard a rumor, my lord… about a young, unaffiliated cultivator living in Yangchen City. Apparently, he had been selling the grass briefly before storing the rest in his shop. I visited personally — and the rumors were true. I bought them immediately for two medium-grade Spirit Stones."
Yang Sung was intrigued.
A lone, unaffiliated cultivator with no ties to any sect… possessing high-quality Immortal Jade Grass? This was no coincidence.
"If this young man truly harvested and preserved such a rare herb on his own," Yang Sung thought, "then even if he has no skill in swordsmanship, his knowledge and care for spiritual herbs is more than enough for our sect's support division."
Without delay, he turned to the girl.
"Find him. Bring him here. I would like to speak with him personally."
"Yes, my lord," the girl replied with a deep bow before mounting her sword and flying off into the night — bound once again for Yangchen City.
While this occurred…
The Holy Sword Saintess, Sung Liuwa, stood atop her pavilion balcony, her thoughts clouded by disappointment. Clad in her crimson Phoenix Cultivator Robes, bearing the emblem of the Holy Sword Sect, she looked like an immortal descended to the mortal world. Her long snow-white hair flowed freely in the breeze, and her piercing ice-blue pupils reflected the calm after her storm of emotion.
She had just left her chambers after confirming what she already suspected — the Immortal Jade Grass had failed. It did not help her conceive, despite the scrolls' promises. Now, with five thousand years behind her, her dream of motherhood seemed as distant as the stars.
But she refused to wallow in self-pity.
Grabbing her Extreme Grade Spiritual Sword, she soared into the skies. She had no destination — only the need to release her frustration. Somewhere deep in the wilderness, she would find demonic beasts to cut down and let her blade scream in place of her heart.
Meanwhile…
Wei Chen wandered through the dense forest near a remote mountain ridge. His backpack was half-filled with low-grade herbs, though his eyes were set on something far more valuable.
Kneeling beside a clear, serene pond, he carefully harvested Holy Water Lily Lotus Flowers — their luminous petals floating like sacred relics. These herbs were rare, and their value soared when collected in pristine condition. Using Paper Talisman Seals, he secured each bloom with practiced hands and placed them safely into his pack.
"All done here," Wei Chen muttered to himself. "Time for the next spot."
He began walking again, weaving through the brush in search of more rare flora. For a time, peace followed him. But soon, the sound of combat echoed through the trees.
Curious, Wei Chen approached cautiously and hid behind a thick tree. Peering around the trunk, he was stunned to see a female cultivator in fierce battle with several monstrous demonic beasts.
Her blade danced like lightning.
Her strikes were merciless.
Wei Chen could only watch in awe — scenes like this were rare for someone like him. Though he was a cultivator, his Holy Sage Spiritual Root was deemed the weakest, suitable only for support roles. Recently, however, he had refined it into the Holy White Sage Spiritual Root, which enhanced his ability to harvest herbs without damaging their purity or grade.
As the final beast fell, Wei Chen turned to leave quietly — only to have a sword stab into the tree beside him.
His heart skipped a beat.
He looked up to see the female cultivator staring directly at him, her glowing blue pupils alight with a terrifying aura — she was in a state of Flaming Rage. It was a rare and dangerous condition in which a cultivator's accumulated frustration, pressure, and emotional distress exploded into violent fury.
Most wisely retreated to beast-infested lands during this state, to avoid harming mortals or fellow cultivators.
Wei Chen had no such luck.
"H-Hey! I'm not a demonic beast!" he shouted, trembling under the weight of her killing intent.
But she didn't care. The rage had consumed her judgment. She began walking toward him, her sword still dripping with blood.
Wei Chen backed away, only to bump into a massive boulder hidden among the trees — his escape route blocked.
Panicked, he reached into his backpack and pulled out what he thought was a Sleeping Potion — but the liquid inside was pink.
His face turned pale. "Oh no… not that one."
He had accidentally thrown a Heat Potion — an aphrodisiac commonly sold to the Lotus Leaf Sect for their… night activities.
"I–I'm sorry!" he yelped as the potion shattered on the ground, its scent spreading like incense.
The woman's fiery aura began to change. Her Flame Rage state subsided — only to be replaced by something far more dangerous: a Heat-Induced Spiritual Instability.
Her breathing grew ragged.
Her face flushed red.
With a sudden flash, she vanished from sight — then reappeared right in front of Wei Chen, pinning him between herself and the boulder.
"You…" she whispered, her voice shaky, her restraint vanishing.
No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the potion had overpowered her focus.
From that moment until midnight…
Wei Chen, despite all protests and attempts to escape, found himself caught in a situation he had never imagined. It was less a night of passion and more a test of survival.
He swore, once again, never to visit the pleasure districts — this was the very reason he preferred books and potions over women and swords.
Three weeks later — Holy Sword Sect
Sung Liuwa sat hunched over a golden basin, vomiting.
Several healer cultivators stood by, looking both astonished and delighted.
"My lord," one said to Patriarch Yang Sung, "your daughter is with child!"
Yang Sung stared at the healer in disbelief.
"…Pregnant?"
"Yes, my lord! Her pulse confirms it. Whatever method she used, it worked."
Joy filled his heart — but also confusion.
Who could possibly be the father?