At dawn, Lian Yue pushed open the door and entered, intending to wake Wen Qiao, only to find the bed empty, the bedding cold.
Lian Yue was stunned for a moment. Thinking her young mistress had risen early while she was in the kitchen preparing breakfast—something that had happened before—she went out to search for her.
The Jishui Courtyard was not large. Though neatly kept and clean, it was somewhat old and dilapidated. Due to Wen Qiao’s low status in the Wen family, no one had cared for it over the years, and naturally, no one had come to repair it.
The flowers and plants in the courtyard grew wildly, as they pleased, but today, they seemed especially vibrant.
Lian Yue walked through the courtyard, past the hanging flower gate, and arrived at a bamboo grove.
The Jishui Courtyard was located in the easternmost corner of the Wen estate, adjacent to a bamboo forest. The bamboo forest was just an ordinary one, with winding paths and a tranquil atmosphere. After making her way through the dense grove, Lian Yue finally found someone deep within it.
A young girl, dressed in crescent-moon-colored sleepwear, stood in the faint morning light deep in the bamboo grove. The wind blowing through the forest lifted her garments, outlining her frail figure—so delicate it seemed as though she might be carried away by the breeze.
Lian Yue hurried over, exclaiming anxiously, “Miss, why are you here? The morning dew is heavy. What if you fall ill again?”
As she spoke, she grabbed Wen Qiao’s hand without waiting for a response, only to find it icy cold. Lian Yue shivered, both angry and worried. “When did you come out? Why didn’t you put on more clothes?”
Wen Qiao said nothing, her gaze lowered. She let her maidservant fuss and hurriedly lead her back to the Jishui Courtyard.
Once back, Lian Yue quickly fetched warm water to help her wash and change out of her thin sleepwear.
Although etiquette in Dongling Kingdom was not overly strict, it was still somewhat improper for a young lady to wander outside her room in sleepwear. Fortunately, few people visited the bamboo grove, or it could have caused quite a stir.
Half an hour later, Wen Qiao, dressed in clean, warm clothes, curled up on a large grandmaster’s chair, holding a bowl of hot soup that she sipped slowly. Her gaze was slightly lowered, her long, thick lashes half-concealing her cool, ink-black eyes.
After taking the clothes Wen Qiao had just changed out of, Lian Yue stepped outside. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the lush vegetation in the courtyard, and she blinked.
When breakfast was served, Lian Yue remarked, “Miss, the flowers and plants in the courtyard are growing especially well today. Even that old peach tree has started blooming.”
Wen Qiao sat calmly, eating her porridge slowly, and said nothing.
Lian Yue was just an ordinary person, unfamiliar with the matters of cultivation. Other than noticing the plants in the courtyard had grown even more wildly overnight, she didn’t sense anything unusual. She merely sighed a bit before moving on.
After breakfast, Lian Yue assumed Wen Qiao would, as usual, find a book and a quiet place to read. Unexpectedly, Wen Qiao got up and returned to her room.
“I’m going to rest for a while,” Wen Qiao instructed. “Don’t let anyone in unless it’s important.”
Lian Yue agreed, thinking her mistress was tired from waking up too early and needed to catch up on sleep. She didn’t disturb her and ensured no one else would either.
When Wen Xian arrived with several of the Wen family’s concubine-born daughters, they were stopped at the door by Lian Yue.
Wen Xian was renowned in the Wen family for her gentle demeanor and considerate nature, known for her kindness to her siblings and servants alike. Though inwardly annoyed by Lian Yue’s boldness, she didn’t show it outwardly.
“Is Third Sister unwell again?” Wen Xian asked with apparent concern. “I heard that Third Sister has always been frail, frequently falling ill, and rarely visiting the martial training grounds. I haven’t seen her in ages. Today, being a day off, I came to visit her.”
Though Lian Yue was somewhat intimidated by martial artists, she had a stubborn streak when it came to matters concerning her mistress. She would risk her life rather than back down.
Like now.
Though everyone in the Wen family praised Fifth Miss for her virtuousness, she had never once visited Jishui Courtyard before. Her sudden appearance today could only mean one thing—the imperial edict of marriage bestowed by Emperor Chenghao.
Lian Yue understood perfectly and naturally refused to let someone who hadn’t visited in years disturb her mistress’s rest.
“Miss didn’t sleep well last night and is still resting,” Lian Yue replied, her face showing worry. “Her medicine only arrived yesterday, and because she didn’t take it in time, she’s been unwell for several days.”
Wen Xian was secretly delighted upon hearing this.
The Wen family’s household affairs were managed by the Second Madam. In the past, if a servant withheld medicine from an unappreciated young lady, it would hardly matter. But now that Wen Qiao was engaged to the Seventh Prince, her status was no longer ordinary.
If a servant dared to withhold her medicine, wouldn’t that imply the Second Madam was negligent in her management? This could harm the reputation of the Second Branch.
As thoughts churned in her mind, Wen Xian outwardly showed concern, gently saying, “If Third Sister wakes up, let her know that I’ll visit her another day.”
“This servant will do so.”
Wen Xian glanced at the Jishui Courtyard, marked by the passage of time. Only the wild growth of flowers and grass within radiated an unusual vitality. She mused that while this place didn’t have abundant spiritual energy, the vegetation here thrived far more than in other parts of the estate.
—
Inside the room, Wen Qiao wasn’t resting.
She sat cross-legged on the bed in meditation, fully aware of the movements outside as if they were happening right by her ear.
She opened her eyes, a sharp glint flashing through her ink-black pupils, and looked at the wildly growing plants outside the window. Suddenly, she extended her hand.
With a faint thought, a tender white sapling emerged in her palm. It was barely an inch tall, with pale green stems and two delicate leaves, fragile enough to snap at the slightest touch.
Wen Qiao stared at the sapling, which seemed fused with her flesh and blood, lost in thought.
Last night, she thought she had seen a blood-red moon. The pain had been excruciating, gnawing into her bones, and she had thought she wouldn’t survive. Then, the spiritual energy of the heavens and earth had abruptly shifted, flooding into her body. Unbeknownst to her, her body underwent a silent transformation.
Her human bone structure had quietly changed, and a yao bone had formed.
And not just any yao bone—but a half-yao bone.
A trace of panic flickered in Wen Qiao’s heart, but she quickly calmed herself.
Although she didn’t understand why her body had undergone this transformation, the fragmented memories that surfaced in her mind told her that she had awakened as a half-yao, inheriting incomplete memories of a half-yao lineage.
Perhaps because her body was so weak, even though she successfully awakened as a half-yao, the inheritance she received was fragmented and incomplete.
As a result, she didn’t even know what kind of yao bone she had inherited, let alone the identity of the delicate sapling in her palm.
Wen Qiao felt she needed some time to sort through everything that had happened to her.
Due to her frail health, she didn’t have much time for cultivation and preferred to quietly read in her room most of the time. Her interests spanned a wide range of topics—geography, travelogues, astronomy, and even basic martial arts techniques. Though she had never traveled far, her knowledge was extensive.
From what she knew, there were indeed people in this world who inherited divine bloodlines. Even the faintest trace of such bloodlines, if awakened, brought immense benefits to one’s cultivation.
Clearly, her sudden awakening last night was the manifestation of a divine bloodline.
And this bloodline belonged to some sort of demon lineage.
Her parents were both human, and she had never heard of any divine bloodline in the Wen family. The only possible connection lay with her mother’s lineage.
Wen Qiao’s mother was surnamed Min, named Min Sudi.
Min Sudi was an orphan. Gifted and talented, she had been adopted by the Wen family at a young age, growing up alongside Wen Boqing. Their childhood affection naturally developed into marriage.
Compared to the Wen family, tracing her mother’s lineage was even harder. It was said that even Min Sudi herself didn’t know her origins.
Wen Qiao had no choice but to temporarily abandon her investigation.
She stared at the sapling in her palm for a long time. With a thought, the sapling disappeared.
Then she checked her physical condition and couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
Even though she had awakened as a half-yao, she was still burdened by her illness. It seemed her half-yao body couldn’t cure her ailments, leaving her as frail as before.
Wen Qiao sighed softly but quickly suppressed her disappointment. If I gain it, I am fortunate; if I lose it, it is fate. Many things in this world cannot be forced.
Her state of mind was steady. Putting aside her doubts about the bloodline, she began to explore her awakened abilities.
From morning to evening, she delved into research. If not for Lian Yue’s concern that neglecting food and drink might harm her health, she would have likely continued without pause.
Through her exploration, she discovered some differences in herself.
For instance, she could sense the emotions of the plants around her. While they lacked sentience, she could glean their needs from simple feedback.
Over several days of repeated experiments, Wen Qiao gradually gained a better grasp of her newfound powers.
In simple terms, she could communicate with plants, understand their needs, and gather information from them. This ability was particularly well-suited for nurturing spiritual plants. If she were to become a cultivator specializing in plant cultivation, she would surely excel with minimal effort.
Meanwhile, Lian Yue squatted in the courtyard, troubled by the increasingly lush growth of the plants and flowers.
“Why are they growing so fast lately? I hope they don’t attract bugs,” she muttered worriedly.
Despite her concerns, Lian Yue fetched a hoe and scissors to remove weeds, trim the overgrown branches, and pluck a few of the most vibrant blossoms to place in a white jade vase on the table.
Wen Qiao glanced at the busy maidservant and quietly absorbed some of the vital energy the plants were feeding back to her.
Sure enough, the wildly growing plants began to behave less unnaturally.
Although the flowers, grass, and trees in Jishui Courtyard were merely ordinary plants, all living vegetation contained a spark of vitality. Their vigorous growth was a response to Wen Qiao’s presence, and in turn, they fed her with a portion of their energy.
It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
These were just common plants, but Wen Qiao couldn’t help wondering what the feedback would be like if she cultivated spiritual plants instead.
With this thought in mind, she decided to procure some spiritual plants for cultivation in the near future.
—
Footnotes:
妖 (Yāo) often refers to monsters, nature spirits, or half-demon beings. They might transform into human form after reaching a certain cultivation level. These beings often represent a fusion of spiritual energy with the essence of their original form, such as a fox spirit or tree spirit.