At the hour of Yin (3-5 AM), the cave was still wrapped in darkness, with only a few specks of light filtering through cracks in the ceiling, faintly illuminating the dry grass on the ground — grass that Wen Yinyue had brought back from the creek yesterday. Though damp, it was far warmer than the cold rock.
She wrapped herself tightly in her moon-white silk dress, now so faded its original color was unrecognizable. The hem, torn all the way to her knees, left exposed skin smudged with dirt. Even her loose silver belt had been dismantled into strips of cloth and tied around her worn-out embroidered shoes, barely keeping them from slipping off.
“It’s the hour of Mao. Time to start.”
Wen Yinyue whispered to the empty air, instinctively touching her lower abdomen.
For the past few days, she had set rules for herself: rise at Mao hour to practice the Nine Heavens Profound Spirit Technique, go to the forest at Chen hour to gather herbs, return to the cave at noon to prepare medicine, and be back to rest before Shen hour. She dared not stay in the forest too late; nights at the bottom of the cliff were far more dangerous than she had imagined.
Sitting cross-legged on the pile of dry grass, she closed her eyes and followed the mantra of her cultivation technique, attempting to guide the faint internal energy within her.
On the first day of training, she had nearly fainted from pain — the moment the internal energy moved just half an inch along her meridians, the “Qianji Yin” toxin coiled around it like an agitated snake, burning along her veins. From her wrists to her chest, every meridian felt clamped by fiery pincers, and cold sweat instantly soaked her hair.
“Endure it… Wen Yinyue, you cannot stop.”
She gritted her teeth until her lower lip almost bled. In modern times, her master had said that the Nine Heavens Profound Spirit Technique forbids quitting midway. Especially when suppressing toxins, if the internal energy is interrupted, the toxin will lash back even stronger.
Forcing herself to concentrate, she followed the technique’s path, gradually guiding her internal energy to her Dantian — the root of her energy and the place where toxins accumulated the least.
The internal energy flowed like a thin stream through thorn-laden meridians. Each encounter with the toxin caused sharp pain. Yet she noticed that once the energy managed a full loop around the Dantian, the burning sensation eased slightly, as if the stream had cleared some blockage.
“So that’s it… internal energy can not only suppress toxins but also gradually unblock the meridians.” Her heart lifted. For the first time since traveling here, she felt a tangible hope of survival.
By the end of the first session, from Mao to Chen hour, she had barely managed two loops of energy around her Dantian. Cold sweat soaked her body, her fingers trembling.
But when she touched her lower abdomen, she felt no abnormal fetal movements. Her tension eased slightly. “Wait a little longer, child. Mother will protect you.”
By Chen hour, the sun finally climbed above the mountain. Morning light streamed into the cave, casting a long slanting patch of light on the ground.
Supporting herself against the cave wall, Wen Yinyue stood up, her legs numb from pain. She rubbed her knees and picked up the makeshift wooden spade she had carved from a tree branch yesterday — sharpened at one end, barely sufficient to dig up herb roots.
Following the path she had marked the day before, she walked into the forest. Dew on the grass soaked her skirt hem, and the cloth strips tied to her shoes were heavy with moisture.
Yet her eyes shone brightly as she scanned the grass along the path. Yesterday, she had only found Qingdu Grass; the Nourishing Fetus Flower was still missing. She remembered the Wen Family Medical Toxin Record noting that this flower loved sunlight, grew on sunny slopes, had pale pink petals with tiny serrations, and leaves that emitted a faint fragrance. It nourished fetal energy and could counter the cold nature of Qingdu Grass.
“I found it!”
After about half an hour, Wen Yinyue stopped in front of a sunny slope. Clusters of pale pink flowers bloomed — exactly the Nourishing Fetus Flower she sought. Dew on the petals sparkled in the morning light, and a gentle sweet fragrance confirmed it.
She squatted, carefully digging around the roots with her wooden spade. The roots were fragile; breaking them would destroy most of the herb’s potency.
“Gently… even more gently…”
She reminded herself as she worked. When her fingers touched the cool roots, she couldn’t help but curve her lips into a small smile. For the first time in three days, she felt truly relaxed.
Suddenly, heavy breathing came from the forest below, accompanied by the cracking of branches and a strong stench of blood.
Wen Yinyue froze, nearly dropping her spade. Slowly, she raised her head toward the sound — a massive wild bear emerged from the trees. Its brown fur was tangled with twigs and leaves. Its copper-sized eyes fixed on her, drool dripping from its mouth. Clearly, it considered her prey.
“This is bad…”
Her heart sank. The bear was larger than any black bear she had seen in modern times, nearly two meters tall when standing upright, claws sharp enough to tear bark.
Her internal energy was weak, and she had no proper weapon — only a makeshift spade. She was no match for the bear.
The bear, impatient, let out a low growl and lunged at her. Wen Yinyue instinctively rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its claw. The ground where she had been squatting erupted in dirt.
She scrambled to her feet and stumbled uphill, but the bear was much faster, closing in quickly.
“Don’t panic, Wen Yinyue. Remember the combat techniques Master taught!”
She forced herself to calm down. In modern times, her master had taught her to deal with large beasts: avoid frontal attacks and target weaknesses. A bear’s nose and eyes were the most vulnerable. A strike there could temporarily repel it.
She stopped abruptly and turned to face the bear. As its paw neared her chest, she dropped low, dodging the strike, and thrust the spade with all her strength at its nose.
“Argh —”
The bear roared in pain, staggering back. Wen Yinyue retreated, but its claw scraped her wrist, sending a sharp pain through her arm. Her moon-white sleeve was stained red.
Ignoring the pain, she knew this was her only chance. Gathering her remaining internal energy, she focused a thin aura at her fingertips and aimed for the bear’s eyes.
Though weak, the energy carried the sharpness of martial arts. The bear, still recovering, was struck in the eyes, howled again, and fled into the forest, leaving behind tufts of fur and blood on the ground.
Wen Yinyue’s legs gave out, and she collapsed on the slope.
Looking at her wrist, she saw the deep wound bleeding heavily. The pain made her grit her teeth, but her eyes shone brighter than ever, and a smile escaped her lips. “I did it… I really did it.”
That use of internal energy showed her that the past three days of training were not wasted. Though her energy was still weak, she could now control it flexibly. Even a little could make a difference in critical moments.
She tore a relatively clean strip from her skirt and wrapped it tightly around her wrist to stop the bleeding temporarily.
Then she carefully dug up the remaining Nourishing Fetus Flowers, collecting even the fallen petals into her cloth bag — all of them represented hope for her and her child, and none could be wasted.
By noon, she returned to the cave with half a bag of herbs. The wrist wound still hurt with every step, but she felt filled with strength.
At the cave entrance, she made a simple stone stove, lit it with dry branches, and ground the Qingdu Grass and Nourishing Fetus Flowers into a paste at a three-to-one ratio. Without a mortar, she used a flat stone, grinding slowly until the herbs became a dark green paste with a faint fragrance.
Pinching her nose, she swallowed a mouthful. The bitter taste made her frown, but she forced it down.
Soon, warmth traveled down her throat to her lower abdomen. The fetal energy, stirred by training and the bear attack, gradually calmed, and the burning in her meridians eased.
“It really works…” Wen Yinyue leaned against the cave wall, gently touching her abdomen. Her eyes were full of tenderness. “Child, see? We have one more chance to survive.”
Over the next two days, she continued to follow her schedule of training and herb-gathering.
On the second day, her internal energy managed three loops around her Dantian, and the toxin’s backlash was much less painful.
On the third day, deep in the forest, she found several rare “Hemostatic Herbs” and a flourishing patch of Qingdu Grass, enough for some time.
The bear attack also made her realize that the cliff bottom held not only herbs but deadly danger.
Her current strength could barely handle one bear. Against stronger beasts or anyone sent by the Liu family, she would have no chance.
“I must improve my strength faster and find a safer place.” Wen Yinyue sat on the dry grass, watching the sunset at the cave entrance, quietly speaking to herself.
“Tomorrow, I’ll explore deeper into the forest.” She made up her mind. A trace of determination flashed in her eyes. The sunset bathed her in its glow, stretching her shadow long across the cave, leaving a defiant silhouette.