"Damn, this is indeed very bitter." Zhi Xuan grunted softly, clenching his teeth to suppress a retch. The incredible bitterness of the root he swallowed spread, followed by a sudden wave of warmth. The warmth was not like the fire that saved them, but like the sun suddenly appearing inside his chest.

  Mingling and Tang, who were busy gathering Ginseng and tying it into their cut robes, immediately stopped and stared at Zhi Xuan.

  "Zhi Xuan? What's wrong?" Tang asked, his expression anxious. "You look like you just ate spoiled bread. Was the Ginseng too strong?"

  "I... I'm fine," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice slightly choked.

  Zhi Xuan immediately sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began to assimilate the Ginseng.

  He didn't have time to explain. As soon as he closed his eyes, the sudden wave of heat turned into an internal storm. The essence of the Pure Forest Ginseng—an extremely potent and pure essence that could only be produced in hidden places—collided with his mortal wheel.

  BOOM!

  It was a soundless internal explosion, but Zhi Xuan felt it as if his eardrums had burst. The energy, instead of flowing gently into the meridians, slammed into the newly patched wheel with brutal force. The patched cracks shook violently. Zhi Xuan's body trembled fiercely, his teeth chattering from the pain.

  Outside, Mingling shouted. "Tang, look! Zhi Xuan!"

  From Zhi Xuan's chest, thick white steam began to billow out. The steam was not ordinary water vapor; it carried a strong medicinal scent, and when it made contact with the air, it briefly froze, resembling disappearing snowflakes.

  Tang staggered backward. "He... he's burning from the inside! That Ginseng is too hot!"

  Mingling immediately grabbed Tang's dry robe. "We have to pour water on him! Or he'll explode!"

  "Don't!" Tang exclaimed, his eyes widening as he saw an even stranger phenomenon.

  Zhi Xuan shook his head from side to side, his eyes still closed and his expression pained. Tang immediately stopped Mingling, who was about to douse Zhi Xuan.

  "Don't, Ming! Look! That's not ordinary fire! That's energy steam!" Tang, though not smart about spiritual matters, had sharp hunting instincts. He could sense danger, but also a faint majesty from the vapor.

  Mingling, still hysterical, stared at Zhi Xuan. Zhi Xuan's skin was now flushed red, as if he were genuinely inside an extreme sauna. The blood vessels in his neck and temples bulged, and the steam was now billowing thicker, like a swirling morning mist concentrated only around his body.

  "But he's in pain, Tang! We have to do something!" Mingling screamed.

  Zhi Xuan, still in agony, slowly heard a buzzing in his eardrums, a melodious and very subtle sound. The sound was so soft, like a tranquil bamboo melody, yet it contained something he did not understand, as if he had heard it in a very distant past.

  The sound was a melody without an instrument, but it touched every vibration in his soul.

  Mmm... Hmm...

  That sound again! The same sound he heard in his lost memory flashes, in the pastures, in the jade valley... Everything was that sound! "Who... who is speaking?" The thought in his head churned with cold fear.

  Just as the Ginseng's heat wave peaked, the melodious sound broke through, becoming a whisper that resonated in the core of his consciousness. The whisper did not form words, only a subtle hum like the sound of a guqin in the night.

  In an instant, Zhi Xuan felt a piercing coldness rush through him, as if a wave of ice suddenly followed the wave of lava. This was not essence from outside, but something originating from within his own mortal wheel. For a moment, he felt his bitterness and pain disappear, replaced by absolute tranquility.

  When Zhi Xuan slowly opened his eyes, he saw Mingling and Tang in front of him, crouching anxiously, staring at him. "Zhi! You're crazy! We just survived and you almost died again!" Mingling was the first to approach Zhi Xuan and hug him.

  Zhi Xuan just held his breath for a moment, letting Mingling's embrace calm his internal turmoil. He pulled away and smiled—a smile that reached his sapphire eyes, but now contained a new calmness and steadfastness.

  "I'm fine, Ming," he said, his voice clear and slightly deeper than before. "This Ginseng is indeed strong. I just... purified it a bit so it wouldn't damage my mortal wheel. We can't be greedy like Tang."

  Tang, who had just managed to stand up, looked at Zhi Xuan with a mixture of respect and suspicion. He observed Zhi Xuan's skin, which had returned to its normal color, but his eyes glowed with unusual intensity.

  "Purified it?" Tang asked. "What the hell is purifying? It looked like you were going to explode, Zhi! And that steam... it wasn't ordinary water vapor! It was like heated jade!"

  "I just did Bashan's breathing technique with more focus," Zhi Xuan replied, shrugging casually. He lied easily; the lie was delivered with convincing composure. "I thought of the cold essence and the water in the river. It helped. Try it next time, Tang. Don't just hit the grain sack."

  Tang narrowed his eyes, staring at Zhi Xuan for signs of falsehood. He snorted, but slowly nodded in understanding. Although he chose to accept the excuse, a doubt hung in the air, a doubt he couldn't express in words. Tang knew for certain something had happened to Zhi Xuan, something that went beyond ordinary mortal training.

  "Alright," Tang finally said, shifting his gaze from Zhi Xuan to the pile of Ginseng. "I don't care if you purified or exploded. What matters is that we got thirteen clusters of these roots. We have to get out of here immediately. If the Northern Village hunters realize we escaped the river, they will return to search the banks."

  Mingling, who was still hugging Zhi Xuan tightly, now let go. His face was once again filled with adventurous spirit, fueled by the abundant Ginseng discovery.

  "Tang is right," Mingling exclaimed. "We shouldn't waste time. We have to wrap up this treasure. Zhi Xuan, you are the most meticulous. We'll cut our wet robes to wrap each of these roots. We can't lose a single strand!"

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  Zhi Xuan nodded. The new tranquility he gained made his mind clear and logical. He looked at the remaining Pure Forest Ginseng, which now appeared to fade slightly as the sun rose higher. Its essence was slowly disappearing into the air.

  "We can't let its essence disappear," Zhi Xuan said. "Ming, use the wide leaves you gathered for Tang. Wrap the Ginseng in those leaves first, then tie it with pieces of Tang's robe. The leaves will help retain its moist essence."

  The three worked in focused silence. Zhi Xuan cut their unusable robes, while Mingling carefully cleaned each root, and Tang, although his arm was still bruised, acted as the supervisor and tier. The sweet and bitter scent of the Pure Forest Ginseng filled the air in the rock alcove, blending with the burnt aroma of their remaining fire.

  While working, Zhi Xuan felt the wheel in his chest spinning with a smoother and more controlled speed than before. The Ginseng consumption and the forced purification had stabilized his crack. The wheel now felt like a deep river, no longer a wild whirlpool.

  More importantly, every time he exhaled, he felt the remnants of the Ginseng essence that hadn't been fully absorbed by his mortal wheel circulating in his meridians. The sensation was no longer painful; it felt like a flow of cold, healing fluid soothing the bruises on his body, the result of being battered in the river.

  Zhi Xuan knew he had just taken a massive step. He had taken a cultivation treasure that should only be accessible to masters, and he had managed to process it with only instinct and the melodious hum that emerged in his core.

  "Done!" Mingling exclaimed proudly. They successfully collected thirteen clusters of Pure Forest Ginseng, neatly and compactly wrapped, divided into three portions in their leather bags.

  "Alright," Tang said, standing straight. He tested his arm. Although it still ached, his movements were much smoother. "The wound barely hurts anymore. This Ginseng is truly a miracle! Come on, we have to find the way home. We have to be careful, but we have to move fast. The longer we stay here, the greater the chance those hunters will return."

  Zhi Xuan nodded. "We move downstream. Villages always follow the river. We just need to find a familiar bridge or path."

  They left the rock alcove, the place that had saved and blessed them, and returned to the riverbank. Walking on the pebbles and mud felt much more difficult than Zhi Xuan's quick crossing yesterday. They had to move slowly, as Tang was still bruised and Mingling was still traumatized.

  They followed the riverbank for almost two hours. The river slowly slowed down and widened. The scenery of threatening cliffs and dense forests began to change to lower shrubs and more familiar trees, the kind that grew near mortal villages.

  "I... I know this place!" Mingling exclaimed, his face beaming. He pointed to a large tree whose roots formed a niche at the riverbank. "That's the Deciduous Leaf Tree! I used to fish here with Bashan! We just have to climb that small hill, and we'll see the wheat fields on the village outskirts!"

  A tremendous sense of relief enveloped all three of them. They had survived, and they returned with a treasure.

  "Come on!" Zhi Xuan said, his spirit blazing again. They climbed the small hill, through bushes and thick tree roots. Finally, they reached the peak.

  Below them lay the familiar sight of their village—the ironwood palisade, the thatched roofs, and most importantly, the vast, golden-yellow wheat fields.

  However, something felt wrong. In the middle of the wheat field, stood Grandfather Wu.

  Grandfather Wu was not standing at the edge of the field as usual, but he stood in the middle of it, with his ironwood staff in his hand. He was not observing the harvest, but staring directly at the hill where the three of them stood.

  Beside Grandfather Wu, stood Bashan and Zhuwei. Their faces did not show relief, but deep tension and clear disappointment.

  "Damn!" Tang whispered, his face pale.

  "Grandfather Wu knows! He must know we left!"

  "He has been waiting for us," Zhi Xuan muttered, feeling a colder chill than the river water enveloping his chest. He was not afraid of Grandfather Wu's staff, but he was afraid of the disappointment in the old man's eyes.

  "What are we going to do?" Mingling whispered, his body trembling. He tried to hide the leather bag containing the Ginseng behind Tang's back.

  "Too late to hide," Zhi Xuan said, taking a deep breath. He took the first step down the hill, towards their inevitable fate.

  "Run, Zhi Xuan! At least you should run!" Tang whispered.

  Zhi Xuan just shook his head. He couldn't run from responsibility, and he wouldn't run from Grandfather Wu.

  He walked on, followed by Tang and Mingling who seemed to shrink behind his shadow. Three exhausted and dirty figures, returning from a journey they should never have taken.

  When they arrived at the edge of the field, Grandfather Wu was still standing still. His staff was held horizontally in front of him, a dividing line between their world of crazy adventure and the discipline they had abandoned.

  "You're back," Grandfather Wu said, his voice calm, but containing a resonance that made Mingling flinch.

  "Grandfather Wu..." Tang tried to speak, but his voice choked.

  Grandfather Wu raised his staff slightly, stopping Tang. His sharp eyes swept over the three of them, stopping briefly at Tang's injured shoulder, then moving to the wet and pale Mingling. And finally, those eyes rested long on Zhi Xuan.

  "I have been waiting since sunrise," Grandfather Wu said. "Bashan told me that you would go looking for Pure Forest Ginseng. He also told me that he set a clear boundary: the Twin Pine Trees. I know, you never reached there."

  Grandfather Wu slowly dropped his staff to the ground, creating a 'Thud!' sound that echoed in the quiet field.

  "I don't care about your Ginseng. I care about the boundaries you crossed," Grandfather Wu continued. "Zhi Xuan. You led this, didn't you? I saw the fire in your eyes yesterday. I warned you about that wild speed."

  Zhi Xuan raised his chin, not trying to hide his gaze. He would accept his punishment.

  "Yes, Grandfather Wu," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice steady although slightly trembling. "I led it. We took a risk. But we returned with Pure Forest Ginseng."

  Mingling, seeing Zhi Xuan admit his mistake, took courage. He immediately pulled out his leather bag and handed the leaf-wrapped Ginseng to Grandfather Wu.

  Grandfather Wu did not take the Ginseng. He merely glanced at it briefly, his eyes filled with deep wrinkles.

  "Thirteen clusters," Grandfather Wu said, his voice almost a whisper. "You never reached the lower hills. You must have been stranded in a place unknown to the hunters."

  Grandfather Wu turned to Bashan. "Bashan, take my staff. They will be punished. Run fifty laps around the village without stopping. And without water."

  Bashan stepped forward, taking the staff, his face tense.

  "But, Grandfather Wu," Tang protested. "We brought Ginseng! It's valuable!"

  "Obtaining Ginseng without my permission is greed. Greed is poison to the foundation," Grandfather Wu countered flatly. "Zhuwei, you watch over them."

  Grandfather Wu then turned to Zhi Xuan, his gaze now gentle, but more piercing than his anger.

  "Zhi Xuan," Grandfather Wu called. "You did not run. That is good. But you lied about your reason. You were not just looking for Ginseng. You were looking for what you lost. Your mortal wheel is now denser, and I can smell a cold aura surrounding you."

  Grandfather Wu leaned in slightly, just enough for Zhi Xuan to hear. "I don't know what you found, sapphire-eyed boy. But if you want to maintain that wild speed, you must bear the consequences alone. Take the Ginseng. Use it wisely. But remember, the punishment is to remind you: You are mortal. The mortal limit is still your guardian."

  Zhi Xuan felt a chilling stab in his chest. Grandfather Wu knew. He didn't know the details, but he knew that Zhi Xuan had changed. Zhi Xuan merely nodded, taking back the Ginseng that Mingling had offered.

  "Go. Carry out your punishment," Grandfather Wu commanded, his voice returning to a firm tone.

  Zhi Xuan turned, followed by Tang and Mingling. They began the agonizing fifty-lap run around the village under the hot sun, ignoring their remaining pain and bruises. The punishment felt cruel, but Zhi Xuan knew it was Grandfather Wu's final form of protection.

  As they ran, Mingling whispered breathlessly, "Grandfather Wu... he wasn't angry. He was just disappointed. But he knows, Zhi! He knows we came back with Ginseng! It worked!"

  Tang, although breathing heavily, smiled proudly. "I told you! Courage pays off! These fifty laps will cleanse our sins!"

  Zhi Xuan just ran, focusing on his breath. The coldness in his chest now pulsed, resonating with the Pure Forest Ginseng in his bag. He had violated a boundary, and Grandfather Wu, instead of destroying him, had blessed him with a chance.

  "You are mortal. The mortal limit is still your guardian."

  Zhi Xuan smiled. Mortal limit? Perhaps. But within him, the patched wheel spun with a power that was not mortal. He had received a gift, and he would use it.