Chen Yang's life as a servant in the Herb Garden of Greenwood Gate had already passed by in a flash for more than a month.
Every day, just as the sky began to lighten, while the sect was still silent and the echoes of the morning bell from the distant mountain peak lingered, he would rise from his hard wooden bed.
He dressed quietly, picked up his well-worn wooden bucket and hoe, and walked through the cool morning dew toward the herb fields that spanned dozens of acres.
The work here was no different from his past labor in the fields, except that what was planted were not ordinary rice and wheat, but various Immortal Herbs and exotic plants infused with spiritual energy.
The air was perpetually filled with a blend of bitter and sweet herbal fragrance, with each breath seeming to draw a trace of spiritual energy into his lungs.
What comforted him slightly was his natural understanding of plants, gained from a childhood spent working with soil and crops.
In less than half a month, he had become familiar with the appearance, preferences, and cultivation techniques of nearly a hundred types of herbs in the garden.
Even Steward Wang, who usually looked down on servants, had once stopped and nodded slightly when he saw the vigorous growth of the Blood Clotting Herb that Chen Yang had grafted, which was noticeably superior.
"Didn't expect you to have such a knack for farming," Steward Wang had said that day, his voice flat and without much emotion.
Chen Yang merely bowed his head and continued tending to the plants, not responding.
He was clear-headed, knowing that no matter how well he did as a servant in this cultivation sect, he could never shed his coarse cloth attire or change his humble situation.
The hardest to endure was his longing for Zhao Yanran.
Though they were in the same sect, they rarely saw each other.
Occasionally, when he caught a glimpse of her from afar, she was always surrounded by three dashing senior brothers, her silken robes shimmering, making her look like an immortal, a stark contrast to his dusty servant's garb.
Once, when he delivered herbs to the Inner Sect disciples' area, paved with white jade and filled with spiritual energy, he happened to see Zhao Yanran walking out arm in arm with Senior Brother Yang from a vermilion gate.
Senior Brother Yang's hand naturally rested on her slender waist as he whispered in her ear, making her cover her mouth and laugh, her eyes filled with a charm Chen Yang had never seen before.
At that moment, his chest felt as if it had been struck, a sharp pain rising, and he quickly bowed his head and stepped aside.
Zhao Yanran's gaze seemed to sweep over him, her smile freezing for a moment, but before she could react, she was led away by Senior Brother Yang, and from beginning to end, no one spared him a glance.
In the quiet of the night, Chen Yang often caressed the warm jade token in his bosom, unable to sleep.
The token had once been a token of promise, but now it felt like a branding iron burning his heart.
His desire for power had never been so intense, yearning to break free from this humble identity and no longer watch helplessly as the woman who had once married him became someone else's Dao Companion.
***
That morning, with the mist still lingering, Steward Wang instructed Chen Yang to go to the Rear Mountain to collect some wild herbs for grafting in the garden.
These herbs had peculiar habits and grew in remote places.
Chen Yang took the herb basket and tools and set off alone on the winding path to the Rear Mountain.
The Rear Mountain of Greenwood Gate was vast, with layers of peaks and ridges. Besides some frequently traveled herb-picking areas, most were deep, deserted valleys where demonic beasts roamed and humans rarely ventured.
To find those rare herbs, he followed their preference for shady, moist, cliff-side habitats, unknowingly venturing deeper.
The surroundings grew increasingly silent, with only the rustle of fallen leaves underfoot and the occasional distant, muffled howl of an unknown beast.
Just as he was fully focused, climbing a steep slope covered in slippery moss, a suppressed cry of pain from a woman suddenly came from below.
"Ouch!"
Chen Yang immediately stopped and looked in the direction of the sound, seeing a young woman in green sitting on the ground a dozen steps away, clutching her ankle in pain.
"Did you sprain your ankle, miss?" Chen Yang put down his herb basket and quickly approached.
The woman looked up at his voice, revealing a delicate but pale face.
Seeing Chen Yang in servant attire, she was initially stunned, then smiled wryly and nodded, "Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother. I accidentally stepped wrong and twisted my ankle. It hurts terribly."
"I know a bit of rural massage techniques. If you don't mind, I can take a look," Chen Yang squatted at a respectful distance.
In the countryside, injuries from falls were common, and he had learned a few tricks from the village's old doctor.
The woman hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "I would appreciate it, Senior Brother."
Chen Yang carefully removed her shoe and sock, seeing that her ankle was red and swollen.
With practiced hands, he pressed and examined, gently moving the joint.
The woman bit her lip in pain, cold sweat dripping, but she did not cry out.
"Fortunately, the bone is fine, just a sprain," Chen Yang breathed a slight sigh of relief, took some fresh herbs from his basket, chewed them, and applied them to the injury, then tore a strip from his clothing to bandage it carefully.
"Thank you for your help, Senior Brother," the woman tried moving, and the pain indeed lessened, "May I know your name and which peak you belong to? Yiyi is deeply grateful."
Chen Yang shook his head, "I'm not a disciple, just a servant in the Herb Garden. My name is Chen Yang."
A flash of surprise crossed the woman's eyes, then she smiled gently, "A servant who knows herbal remedies? You are indeed surprising, Chen Senior Brother. My name is Liu Yiyi, formerly a geisha at Spring Red Mansion in Qingyun County."
Now it was Chen Yang's turn to be stunned.
Upon closer inspection, though she was plainly dressed, there was an elegance in her features not found in ordinary women.
Liu Yiyi seemed to see what he was thinking and spoke calmly, "There's no need to be surprised, Chen Senior Brother. I used to sell my art at Spring Red Mansion, hoping to find a good man to redeem me. But fate played a trick, and I contracted a venereal disease."
Chen Yang was shocked, knowing that such a disease was almost a death sentence in the pleasure quarters.
"The madam saw me as useless due to my illness and abandoned me at the Mass Grave Mound to die," Liu Yiyi continued, a hint of bitterness in her eyes, "But fate was kind, and an Elder from Greenwood Gate happened to pass by, saving my life with spiritual medicine. Not only did he cure my illness, but he also brought me back to the sect and gave me a position as a servant in Butterfly Valley's Herb Garden, allowing me to settle down."
Chen Yang couldn't help but sigh, "So Liu Miss has also had such an experience."
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"Now I manage the Herb Garden in Butterfly Valley. Although I'm still a servant, I no longer have to force a smile, and my days are peaceful, accompanied by flowers and plants, far better than the pleasure quarters," Liu Yiyi's smile held a genuine brightness, "Chen Senior Brother, for your help today, Yiyi is grateful. If you don't mind the remoteness, you can come to Butterfly Valley to find me when picking herbs. It's rarely visited, but there are many rare herbs that might be useful to you."
Chen Yang was about to thank her when he heard voices calling from the distant forest, seemingly searching for someone.
Liu Yiyi quickly stood up, "It must be my companions from the valley looking for me. Remember, Chen Senior Brother, Butterfly Valley is at the western foothills. Follow the stream upward, and there are three gnarled ancient pines at the valley entrance, easy to recognize. Just mention my name when you come."
With that, she bowed and, though her steps were still slightly limping, she was much better than before, quickly disappearing around the bend of the mountain path into the lush forest.
Chen Yang stood alone, looking in the direction she had left for a long time without moving.
The mountain wind blew, and the freshly picked herbs in the basket emitted a bitter fragrance.
He had not expected that this chance assistance would seem to open a window to the unknown for him, a servant confined to the Herb Garden.
Butterfly Valley.
Liu Yiyi.
He silently recited in his heart, a vague premonition spreading like ripples.
That deep valley, that kindred spirit of a woman, perhaps held the key to changing his fate.
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