Chapter 5: The Hidden Garden
The Frozen Bamboo Peaks were a world away from the soot-stained trenches of the graveyard. Here, the air was so sharp it felt like breathing diamonds, and the silence was broken only by the occasional crack of a bamboo stalk bowing under the weight of the snow.
Su Yan's private residence was a minimalist structure of white stone and dark wood, perched on the edge of a precipice. She had pointed Ye Jun toward a small, detached hut at the edge of the grove. It was humble, but to him, it was a palace. It had a bed, a clean floor, and, most importantly, a heavy iron bolt on the door.
As soon as the moon rose, casting a pale, silver glow over the snow, Ye Jun locked himself inside. His body was humming with the residual energy of the day's exam.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled the rusted cauldron from his sleeve. It felt heavier now, its surface warmer. The golden spark in his heart pulsed in a slow, deep rhythm, pulling his consciousness inward.
"The first seeds have been sown," the ancient voice echoed. "Enter, Master. The earth is hungry."
Ye Jun closed his eyes and let the familiar pull of the artifact take him.
The inner space of the First Chamber had expanded. The black soil, once just a small patch of darkness in a void, now stretched out for nearly an acre. In the center, the Star-Silk herb he had planted in the graveyard was no longer a sprout. It was a mature, glowing plant, its leaves shimmering with a faint violet light.
But something was different. A small, clear spring had bubbled up from the center of the field, its water smelling of pure, unrefined Qi.
"The Field of Beginnings," the voice explained. "Any plant placed here will grow at ten times the speed of the outside world. If you feed it your Chaos Spark, it will grow a hundred times faster."
Ye Jun's heart raced. In the outside world, a Century-Glow Flower took a hundred years to reach potency. Here, with his help, he could harvest it in a year—or even months. This was the secret to true alchemical power. He wasn't just an alchemist; he was a god of time.
He reached into his robe and pulled out a small leather pouch. Inside were the seeds he had "requisitioned" from the Alchemy Hall during his exam—seeds for Bone-Strengthening Grass and Spirit-Refining Vines. To anyone else, these were common, but to a Level 3 cultivator, they were the foundation of strength.
He knelt in the rich, black soil and began to plant. As his fingers touched the earth, he felt a strange connection. The soil didn't just hold the seeds; it seemed to embrace them.
"If I'm going to stay on Su Yan's peak," Ye Jun whispered to the quiet void, "I can't just be an assistant. I need to be her equal. I need to reach the Foundation Establishment stage before the sect's annual competition."
He stood up and walked over to the Silver Pavilion in the Second Chamber. The time-dilation there was his greatest weapon. He spent the next "five days" inside the pavilion—though only five hours passed in the real world—practicing the Chaos Circulation.
The golden spark in his chest grew denser, turning from a flicker into a small, spinning orb of liquid fire. His Qi reached the peak of Level 3, then shattered the barrier into Level 4. He felt his muscles tighten, his skin becoming as tough as cured leather, and his senses expanding until he could hear the wind howling outside his hut in the real world.
When he finally emerged from the cauldron, he was drenched in sweat and covered in a thin layer of gray grime—the last of the impurities being forced from his marrow.
He stepped outside to wash in the freezing mountain stream. The cold didn't bother him anymore; the Chaos Spark kept his blood at a steady, simmering heat.
As he splashed the icy water on his face, he sensed a presence. He looked up to see Su Yan standing on a nearby ridge, her white robes billowing in the wind. She looked like a celestial being carved from the mountain itself.
"You've improved," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the distance. She didn't sound surprised, just observant. "Your Qi is stable, and your foundations are deeper than any Level 4 I have ever seen."
Ye Jun stood up, the water dripping from his chest. "Practice makes perfect, Elder Su."
She descended the slope, her feet barely touching the snow. She stopped a few paces away, her pale blue eyes scanning him with a gaze that felt like it was searching his very soul.
"Han Feng's father is the Head of the Law Hall," she said quietly. "He will not let the humiliation of his son go unpunished. The promotion exam bought you time, but it also put a target on your back."
"I knew that when I caught his sword," Ye Jun replied.
Su Yan reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small, jade-bound book. "This is the Frost-Fire Manual. It is a forbidden technique that attempts to balance extreme cold with extreme heat. Most who try it perish. But after seeing what you did to my rebound... I think you are the only one who can study it."
She handed him the book. As their fingers brushed, a small jolt of electricity—a mix of her frost and his fire—shot between them. Su Yan's breath hitched for a fraction of a second, her stoic mask flickering.
"Don't die, Ye Jun," she whispered. "The sect is a furnace. If you don't refine yourself into a diamond, you will be turned to ash."
She turned and vanished into the swirling snow, leaving him alone with the manual and the humming cauldron in his soul.
Ye Jun looked at the book, then at the moon. He felt the weight of the destiny he had claimed. He wasn't just a scavenger anymore; he was a player in a game that spanned seven planes.