Blossoming Path
Chapter 200: The Path Between

The next two days pass in a blur.

My hands move on instinct now, measuring out doses, adjusting needle placements, refining the Blood Purifying Tonic batch by batch. I don’t hesitate when I press the vial against a trembling convert’s lips, nor when I wipe away the thick, blackened blood that seeps from their pores. The scent of medicine and corruption has clung to me so long it feels like it’s seeped into my skin.

But it’s working.

The converts no longer whisper praises to the Heavenly Demon. Their lips don’t move in fervent prayer. Their eyes no longer hold that vacant, mindless devotion. They are still silent, still largely unresponsive, but they are here.

Then, a sound. Soft, so quiet I almost miss it.

A hoarse whisper.

I glance over sharply, my gaze locking onto one of the converts. A man, thin and sunken, his skin ashen from prolonged corruption. He stares at nothing, his lips barely moving.

I kneel beside him, heart pounding as I strain to hear.

His voice is weak, dry, cracking with disuse. But I recognize it.

A single word. A single piece of a life stolen from him.

My fingers tighten around the edge of the cot.

It’s the first word any of them have spoken.

It takes me a second before I murmur back, voice softer than I intend, "You’ll see her again."

I don’t know if he hears me. His eyes slide shut, exhaustion taking him once more.

It will take time for them to find themselves again.

And time is something we don’t have.

Between treatments, I prepare the Silent Moon disciple's supplies.

Rows of elixirs line my workbench. Strengthening tonics to sustain stamina over long travel. Potent healing draughts for injuries we can’t predict. Warming potions to stave off the oppressive winter cold. Not just for them, but for whatever Pingyao needed. It wouldn't surprise me if they were suffering from the effects of the long winter. I label them all carefully, explaining their effects to Xu Ziqing and Ping Hai.

Ping Hai listens with the focus of a man determined not to fail. Xu Ziqing, ever composed, nods along, though I can tell he’s filing away only the most critical information.

They understand the weight of these supplies. That’s enough.

I don’t notice when the others start gathering.

By the time I finish explaining the last elixir, there’s a small crowd to bid them farewell.

Wang Jun, arms crossed, watching intently. Lan-Yin, frowning slightly as she listens. Elder Ming, his usual quiet presence at the back. Even a handful of Verdant Lotus disciples have come, their expressions unreadable. The moment was approaching. And despite having made up my mind, I still felt that familiar spike of anxiety. Of doubt.

I could stay. I could convince myself that the village needs me. That I am more useful here, where I can control the outcome. But isn't that what the Silent Moon Sect did?

Withdrawing. Waiting. Consolidating.

And in the end, it changed nothing. It made everything worse.

If I stay here forever, what changes?

Nothing.

I close the final box, stacking it with the others. Then, without preamble, I say it.

"But it's okay. Even if you forget, it won't matter because I’m coming with you."

Silence.

Then—

"You what?!"

The look on Ping Hai and Xu Ziqing’s faces will forever be etched into my memory.

Lan-Yin's eyes widen. "You're joking. You have to be joking."

"I'm not," I say simply.

Jian Feng exhales, shaking his head. "Kai, think about this. You're still recovering from your injuries. Are you seriously suggesting you leave the village to march straight into another conflict?"

Wang Jun, usually the more reserved of my friends, scowls outright. "That bandage on your arm? Not for decoration. The fact that you aren’t limping doesn’t mean you should be fighting."

"I'm not just going to fight," I say evenly. "I'm going to help. I can stabilize the wounded, supply medicine, reinforce whatever defenses Pingyao has left. If things turn bad, I’ll make sure we have the resources to fall back."

"You are the resource," a voice interjects.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I blink, glancing over—Li Wei.

I hadn’t expected him to speak up. The young carpenter stood near the back of the group, his arms crossed tightly, brow furrowed in an expression I haven’t seen on him before.

"The village has no other alchemist of your caliber," he continues. "No other healer, no one else who can do what you do. If you leave and something happens—"

"Then I’ll make sure nothing happens before I go," I say, my voice firmer now.

Li Wei clenches his fists. "You think you can just ‘make sure’ of that? You’re not a god, Kai. What if someone gets sick? What if an attack happens while you're gone? If someone like me gets injured, what then? Who'll build the houses?"

I hesitate. He’s not just speaking as a friend, he’s speaking as someone who depends on me.

Kai, the alchemist. The healer. The one who has always been here.

My gaze flickers to him, seeing the tension in his frame, the sharp concern in his voice. We haven’t talked much lately. I’d been too busy. Too caught up in my work, my training, the encroaching threat of the demonic cult.

And yet, he had still been here. Building. Helping. Holding the village together in his own way.

I exhale. "Li Wei..."

"Kai," Elder Ming says, watching me closely. "You have made up your mind. I can see that. But answer me this; what will you do when you fail?"

"I—" The question catches me off guard. "I won't fail."

"No." His voice is gentle, but firm. "You will. Not because you are weak, but because you are human. There will come a day when all your strength and all your knowledge will not be enough. When someone dies because of a mistake you made."

My breath stills.

"When that happens," Elder Ming continues, "will you still believe you made the right choice?"

I swallow hard. Because deep down, I already know the answer. My back straightens as I answered his question.

"Yes," I say, voice steady. "Because the alternative is doing nothing."

Elder Ming looked me in my eyes, as if testing my resolve. It was like when I first asked him to train me all over again.

I think back to my conversation with Ping Hai. To the quiet realization of what my role in all this is meant to be; not a warrior at the front, not a hermit behind safe walls, but something in between. Staying in the village forever, isolated from the larger conflict, would be as much a mistake as running straight into battle.

Something that bridges the gap.

Between sects and villages.

Between cultivators and common people.

Between the present world and the Interface’s lost history.

I can’t stay here while the rest of the region is under threat. I won’t. Not when I had the power to make a difference.

I sigh, gesturing toward the two figures at my side. "Yes, Elder Ming. Besides, do you really think Tianyi and Windy would let me go alone? It's not like I'm going there unarmed. I have two powerful and immensely capable spirit beasts by my side."

Tianyi tilts her head, then nods firmly.

Windy preens at my words, letting out a small hint of pride leak through our bond.

There’s a brief pause as everyone absorbs that information.

Elder Ming steps in then, placing a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder.

"Kai has made up his mind," the elder says, voice calm but steady. "And I trust him to know his own limits."

Li Wei looks like he wants to argue, his jaw clenching. But then, with a sharp exhale, he takes a step back, shoulders tight with frustration.

Wang Jun lets out an aggravated huff. "If I didn't know how much stronger you were than me, I'd beat some sense into you."

Lan-Yin mutters something under her breath, crossing her arms but offering no more protest. She wore a sad smile, but there was some resignation in her eyes.

Jian Feng, after a long silence, sighs heavily. "Then I’ll join as well."

I turn to him, startled.

So do a few of the Verdant Lotus disciples.

They step forward without hesitation.

I had expected arguments. Expected protests. But instead, they agree. Just like that.

I shake my head. "No. This is my risk. You don’t have to follow. Stay here and protect the village."

Jian Feng meets my gaze evenly. "I cannot, in good conscience, let someone I am indebted to go into battle alone." His voice softens. "And I am not doing this as a disciple of the Verdant Lotus Sect. I am doing this as a friend."

"What sort of taoist lets a villager do their job?" Miao Hu protested from further in the back.

My breath catches slightly.

Still, I protest. "The village will be defenseless. I did this on the assumption you would all be here, keeping Gentle Wind Village safe."

Elder Ming looks at me.

"We have more than a dozen disciples staying behind to protect this place. We’ll be fine. I trust you, Kai. If you want to go, then go. But don’t refuse the help that is given to you."

His eyes hold certainty. A quiet, unwavering confidence.

And for some reason, it makes me pause.

Why does he sound so sure?

The Verdant Lotus disciples are strong, yes, but they aren’t an army. If I—who trained alongside them, who has fought against the same threats—still felt uncertain about leaving, then how can Elder Ming be so at ease?

Does he know something I don’t?

I study him carefully, searching for the answer. But all I see is quiet assurance. A belief in something he hasn’t said aloud.

Something shifts in my chest.

He trusts that this place will be safe. That much is clear.

And though I don’t understand why, I trust him.

I let out a breath. "Alright."

Then the two Silent Moon disciples stepped forward, their expressions drawn tight.

"You shouldn’t," Xu Ziqing says immediately. "This is where your favor to me ends. There is no need to put yourself at risk when you have your own village to protect."

I lift an eyebrow. "Oh? Do you even remember everything I just told you about these elixirs? How to use them? When to take them? How to mix them?"

Xu Ziqing’s mouth opens. He hesitates. His gaze flickers to the neatly labeled boxes, and I see the exact moment the realization sets in.

He remembers some—but not enough.

"We’ll figure it out. We’ve managed on our own this long." His voice was gruff, as he tried to inject some coldness into his words. But now, the longer I interacted with him, the more I could tell it was just a facade.

"Then tell me—what happens when one of you falls in battle? When you don’t have time to ‘figure it out?’ Will you waste precious moments debating which elixir to use while someone bleeds out?"

That was met with silence, and he couldn't seem to find an answer.

"Exactly." I press on. "If you plan on protecting Pingyao, we do it together. It'll maximize our chances."

I glance at the gathered figures, my voice steady. "And in the worst-case scenario, if the village is too dangerous to defend, we bring its people here. It’s easier to protect something when we have numbers on our side."

I smile.

"Well, that’s about how it’s going to go. Any questions? Concerns?"

Xu Ziqing just stares at me, then at the gathered disciples, then back at me.

"You… you’re all just deciding this so casually?" His voice is filled with something between disbelief and exhaustion.

Ping Hai, however, reacts differently. His hands tremble at his sides, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the sheer number of people standing with them. His gaze flickers over each face, each person who had, without hesitation, chosen to join this journey.

His throat bobs as he swallows hard. He blinks rapidly, as if trying to hold back something he doesn’t want to show.

"Thank you," he says, voice thick with emotion.

I clap him on the shoulder, firm but light. "Before we go, I need to make a quick stop."

SCENE BREAK

The banyan tree loomed before me, ancient and unmoving, its roots twisting through the frostbitten ground. My breath curled in the cold air, dissipating into the sky.

I flex my right hand, rolling my fingers, feeling the stiffness that still lingers from my injury. It’s healed enough. Enough that I can fight, enough that I can move without pain, but not enough that I can afford recklessness.

I exhale slowly.

Although I wish I could have carried the weight of the Black Tortoise Shell for longer, I know now that unnecessary burdens only slow me down. A single moment of hesitation could mean death—not just for me, but for those I need to protect.

I won’t make the same mistake I did against the Envoy.

My fingers curl into a fist.

Then, I punched.

The impact shudders through the tree. Brittle leaves shake loose from the branches, drifting to the ground like silent snowflakes. A clear indentation is left on the bark—not enough to break it, but enough to fulfill the quest’s requirement.

A series of notifications swarms my vision.

Sub-quest: The Black Tortoise's Tribulation has been completed.

Quest: Body Refinement (Breakthrough) has been completed.

Due to your status as Interface Manipulator, your rewards will be adjusted accordingly.

The Interface recognizes not only perseverance but the will to surpass limitations. Where others would have ended, you endured. Where strength was demanded, you forged mastery. You have gone beyond. Your rewards shall reflect it.

The weight I'd been carrying. It didn’t fade away gently. It was just gone.

For the first time in months, the crushing force that had settled into my bones, wrapped around my limbs, pressing into every motion... it ceased to exist.

I inhaled sharply, my balance shifting in an instant.

I felt light. Too light.

The ground beneath me felt distant, unfamiliar, as though my body had forgotten what it was like to exist without restraint. I steadied myself with the banyan, as though I were going to float away without something anchoring me.

A disorienting sensation swept through me. My breath hitched. It was like the dull, unrelenting ache I had carried for so long had become a part of me.

And now, without warning, it had been ripped away.

My feet adjusted instinctively, compensating for a weight that no longer existed.

I clenched and unclenched my fists. Then, experimentally, I threw a punch into the air.

The force of it rippled outward, raw strength bursting forth. I hadn’t even infused qi into the strike, and yet wind howled in the wake of my movement.

I blinked.

Then, I laughed.

It was soft at first, just a breath of realization. But then it grew.

Because this was real.

I took one last look at the banyan tree before rolling my shoulders, shaking off the last traces of restraint. It seemed the Interface was taking a while to calculate my reward. I couldn't waste any more time here.

"Let’s go."

With a slight bend of my knees, qi surged through my legs with more ease than ever before—

Then I launched forward.

The ground cracked beneath my takeoff, frost shattering as I blurred forward, catching up with the others in an instant.

My heart pounded, my blood thrumming with anticipation.

The journey to Pingyao has begun.