A week passed.
Not swiftly, nor painlessly, but steadily.
Each morning, Shen rose before the sun crested the misty hills. The chill of Ashenreach seeped through his worn robes, and dew clung to the half-built home he'd pieced together with cracked hands. His body ached, and his qi remained unsteady—but the rhythm of work gave him purpose.
The fox cub had taken to following him now, one tail flicking lazily behind her as she padded through the fields. She stayed close, never quite touching, but always nearby. She had begun to yip softly in the mornings—short, high-pitched sounds that were more inquisitive than alarmed. Shen took it as a good sign.
He still hadn't named her.
He would wait.
The seedling at the center of Mudvale had grown taller. Its thin stalk had thickened, and small leaves now fanned out like emerald lanterns. A faint green glow lingered around its base, visible even in daylight. Shen had taken to meditating beside it each night, letting its pulse guide his breath. The first time he did so, he felt his qi settle—still rough, but no longer volatile.
He'd also begun carving narrow irrigation channels from the sluggish river, coaxing water to the dry soil. It was grueling work. His hands bled, and more than once he slipped, soaking himself to the bone. But by the fourth day, the earth began to darken—drink.
[Task Progress: "Revitalize the Land"]
Progress: 12%
The message came at night, within the sanctuary of his sleep. Silver words on black sky.
It was enough.
On the sixth day, he found charcoal.
Not just remnants of old woodfires—but rich, buried charcoal from long ago, likely from when Mudvale had suffered a cleansing burn. The blackened chunks crumbled between his fingers, light and porous. Shen's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. In the city, he had learned of old farmers mixing biochar into soil to renew it.
He began hauling it by the sackful.
The fox watched, perched atop a log like a tiny silver empress, her tail wrapped neatly around her paws.
"What?" Shen muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Not all cultivation is swordplay and explosions."
She yipped once—judgmental.
He grinned anyway.
By the seventh day, something had shifted again.
The air around the seedling was more vibrant. Spirit-insects gathered—tiny translucent things that shimmered like pearls. The soil no longer felt like ash and dust, but loam. The fields had not bloomed yet, but they no longer felt dead.
That night, Shen sat by the sprout, the fox curled tightly beside him, her breaths slow and even.
His eyes closed. The world faded.
And in the soft dream-light, a message formed:
[Progress Milestone: Spirit Soil Initiated]
Passive Qi Nourishment (Low) Increased Growth Rate for Spiritual Flora
[Task Progress: "Revitalize the Land"]
Progress: 27%
Another seed had taken root in more than just the ground.