At Mao hour, the valley was still wrapped in morning fog. Dew on the cliff dripped down the vines, hitting the stone slabs in front of the wooden house with a soft “tick-tock.”
Wen Yinyue was already awake. She sat on a mat in front of the wooden house — made from reeds in the valley, soft and moisture-resistant.
Her clothes were no longer the moon-white silk dress she wore when she arrived. She had cut the torn skirt above her knees and made a short tunic. She used rabbit skins from small animals she caught after the bear attack to make knee guards, wrapping them around her legs to stay warm and to make training easier.
The scars on her wrist had faded to light pink. Only when she moved them could she see a fine line.
“It’s time to start.”
She formed hand seals and, following the Nine Heavens Profound Spirit Technique, slowly closed her eyes. The scent of grass and plants in the morning fog entered her nose with each breath, calming her mind instantly.
During the first ten days, as her inner power moved through her meridians, it felt like sandpaper brushing her veins — especially near her old wrist injury. The “Qianji Yin” toxin seemed to hide in the folds of her meridians, occasionally “provoking” her.
But she didn’t give up. She practiced at Mao hour every day, even if her tunic got soaked with sweat or her lower belly felt a little heavy pain. She rested briefly, then continued guiding her inner power.
“Push another inch forward…” This Mao hour, when her inner power reached the “Dan Zhong” point, it felt smoother than before.
A thin barrier that had always blocked her seemed to loosen slightly.
Holding her breath, she slowly pushed the accumulated inner power from her dantian toward the barrier — once, twice, and on the third push, the inner power seemed to break through. A low “hum” spread through her meridians, flowing down the Hand Taiyin Lung Meridian and back to the dantian, completing a full cycle.
Wen Yinyue suddenly opened her eyes. Her fingertips glowed faintly — a sign she had broken through the first layer of the Nine Heavens Profound Spirit Technique!
She placed her hand on her lower belly. The inner power flowed through her palm, and she clearly felt the “Qianji Yin” toxin, which had been circulating in her meridians, now pushed to the outer layer of her dantian like a thin black shell, unable to spread freely.
“I did it… I really did it!” Her voice trembled, not from exhaustion, but from excitement.
A month of persistence had paid off. Her inner power could now circulate on its own, meaning she didn’t need to consciously guide it anymore. It could even nourish her body while she worked. With the toxin suppressed, her body would improve, and her child inside would be safer.
The sun at Chen hour dispersed the morning fog. Wen Yinyue carried her self-made wooden hoe — made from a thick tree trunk, with vines wrapped on the handle for grip — toward the open area by the hot spring.
She had chosen this space a few days ago — close to the spring, with soft soil and sunlight, perfect for planting herbs. She bent down to clear small stones. When the hoe dug into the soil, she could feel its looseness. Occasionally, she picked up small rocks and stacked them at the edge, planning to use them for herb field ridges later.
“I’ll plant Ice Skin Grass here. The dampness by the spring suits it,” she whispered to her belly while digging. “Blood Ginseng goes on the sunny slope, so it will grow stronger. Detoxifying herbs and Pregnancy Nourishing Flowers go in the middle, for easy harvesting later.”
Her movements were light, careful not to disturb her child. Yet digging and turning the soil was practiced — memories of working in her master’s herb garden in the modern world came in handy now.
Half an hour later, neat rows of soil ridges appeared.
She brought seedlings she had transplanted from the cave — the pale blue leaves of Ice Skin Grass glimmered in sunlight. The dark red roots of Blood Ginseng were wrapped in soil. She carefully planted each seedling, pressed the soil around the roots, and scooped warm water from the hot spring to water them slowly.
“Grow well, you’ll help suppress toxins for me later,” she whispered.
She touched the Ice Skin Grass leaves gently, like greeting old friends.
Sunlight fell on her body. The tunic’s hem lifted in the breeze, revealing forearms smeared with soil but showing healthy color — the result of a month of regular work and training, much better than when she first arrived pale in the valley.
At noon, the sun was strong. Wen Yinyue moved a flat stone into the shade of the wooden house to serve as a “herbal research table.”
On it were the herbs she had collected over the month: dried detox herbs, powdered pregnancy nourishing flowers, and freshly picked mosquito-repelling herbs (she discovered these burned well to drive away insects in the valley). She also had a hollow bamboo tube as a “medicine jar,” filled with hot spring water and placed over a small fire to heat.
“Let’s test Detox Herb with Mosquito-Repelling Herb…” She added a small amount of powdered Detox Herb into the bamboo tube, watching the water’s changes. Her master had said in modern times, “Detox Herb is cold, and if paired with warm herbs, it balances the cold.” Mosquito-Repelling Herb had a mild warmth.
She stirred the water with a wooden spoon. The scent of herbs rose to her nose. Over this month, she had done this daily at noon — not only to find the best formula to suppress toxins but also to master using the valley’s herbs.
“Right, add some Blood Ginseng powder too, to nourish qi and blood.” She sprinkled a little into the water, thinking of her child.
The water slowly boiled, releasing mixed herbal scents. She scooped a spoon, cooled it, and tasted — bitter with a hint of sweetness, milder than the pure Detox Herb juice.
“This will not only suppress toxins but also nourish the child. Perfect.” She smiled, pouring the rest into a clay jar to drink later during the Shen hour at the hot spring.
At Shen hour, steam rose from the hot spring. Wen Yinyue sat in the water, just covering her waist. The warmth embraced her, and she sighed in comfort.
Her inner power circulated on its own, mixing with the hot spring’s warmth, flowing into her lower belly. She suddenly felt a light kick — not the weak fetal movement before, but a clear push, like tiny fists tapping her belly.
“Child… are you saying hello to mommy?” she said joyfully, hands lightly resting on her belly.
Soon, another movement came, stronger this time, like little feet kicking. Wen Yinyue’s eyes watered — after betrayal, falling off cliffs, and poisoning, she had never felt such pure joy. This child was the closest person she had in this strange world.
“I will protect you, let you be born safely, and give you a peaceful home.” She whispered, pressing close to her belly. The steam blurred her side, but her eyes shone.
A month passed quietly with this routine.
That evening, she sat in front of the wooden house, holding a charcoal stick (sharpened from collected firewood), drawing on a flat tree bark.
She drew a map of the valley: the hot spring and herb fields in the center, wooden house on the left, cave on the right, and near the only entrance (behind the waterfall), she marked circles with “vine trap” and “falling rock trap.”
“The entrance is hidden, but if someone finds it, there’s still danger,” she thought while drawing. “Vine traps can be made from strong vines — anyone stepping in will be trapped. Falling rock traps can be set above the cave with stones tied by vines; if triggered, cut the vines and the rocks block the entrance.”
In a corner, she drew the character “Pavilion” — her first clear thought of creating her own power. The valley was safe, but alone she was weak. To take revenge, protect her child, and survive in this chaotic world, she needed followers.
She remembered her modern world Wens’ Martial Hall — loyal disciples, comrades in battle. Perhaps she could build something similar here, a place to protect herself and those worth protecting.
“Let’s call it ‘Xiaoyao Pavilion.’” She whispered the name, eyes firm. “Free and unbound, helping people and punishing evil.”
She finished the last stroke on the bark. Sunset light fell on the map, the lines sketching a blueprint for the future.
Wen Yinyue looked deep into the valley. The evening breeze rustled the leaves, like cheering for her decision. Her belly nudged gently — as if answering her thoughts.
“Child, I will give you not just a safe home, but a world where you can grow safely.”
She stood, brushed off the dirt, and looked toward the waterfall — the valley’s entrance, the starting point for leaving despair and achieving her goals.
Moonlight climbed the cliffs, shining on the wooden house, herb fields, and hot spring. The valley was quiet and warm.