The greenhouse stood at the farthest edge of the courtyard, hidden behind trees and wild shrubs that had been left to grow untamed.
Its frame was made of old wood, its glass walls dull and cloudy, with some cracked with age.
Wild grass had spread over the stone steps in front, while the wooden door stood half-open, as though it had not been properly closed for years.
The greenhouse was larger than the other structures around the estate, with a high ceiling that made the air inside feel less suffocating.
From outside, Ning Zhen could not clearly see what lay within.
Morning mist coated the glass so thickly that it created a pale, blurry illusion, making the greenhouse feel strangely isolated from the rest of the estate.
She stopped a few steps away.
The greenhouse had clearly been neglected for a long time.
It was quiet, overgrown, and thick with the scent of damp soil.
Still, traces of life lingered within.
Ning Zhen pushed the door open.
The old hinges creaked, breaking the stillness of dawn.
Dim morning light filtered through the fogged glass, casting pale shadows over the damp earthen floor.
In several corners, wild plants grew tangled among the remains of herbs once cared for by Lin Qingyu’s mother.
Qingyu’s memories of her mother felt much stronger here.
This greenhouse had been the only place where her life had ever felt peaceful.
A woman’s hands moving gently among young leaves.
A soft voice explaining the names of plants one by one.
There was a quiet laugh when Qingyu mispronounced the name of an herb.
Sometimes a slice of fresh fruit was placed directly into her mouth while that woman told her that little children should not be picky with their food.
Those small fragments surfaced naturally in Ning Zhen’s mind.
It was warm and painful at the same time.
She took a long breath.
The air inside the greenhouse was different from the rest of the Lin estate.
The scent of wet soil mixed with roots, leaves, and morning dew filled the space.
Somehow, it reminded her of the herbal storage rooms in Azura.
Since childhood, Ning Zhen’s life had never been far from medicinal plants.
She had grown up among herbal texts, pill furnaces, and mountains where spiritual plants flourished in the wild.
Even without seeing their forms, she could identify most plants by scent and energy flow alone.
Some of the plants resembled those from Azura.
They were not exactly the same, but close enough to calm her heart.
For the first time since opening her eyes in this world, her shoulders felt relaxed.
The temperature inside the greenhouse was warmer than outside.
The cold that had clung to her bones began to fade little by little.
She walked past cracked pots and dried stems.
Some wooden labels still hung from the sides of the pots, though the writing had faded with time and moisture.
Several intact pots had been arranged according to size and light requirements.
Ning Zhen observed the neat, systematic layout for a moment.
Even after years of neglect, the pattern was still clear.
Lin Qingyu’s mother had not simply liked plants.
The arrangement spoke of patience and care.
Small leaves swayed lightly as Ning Zhen passed by, whether from the morning breeze or from the faint aura of the Dragon Point still lingering in her body.
Her gaze stopped on a purple-leafed plant beside a tilted wooden shelf.
She crouched and examined the veins of its leaves.
Its medicinal properties were weak by Azura’s standards.
In Azura, it would not have been particularly useful, but here it was enough to help improve blood flow and ease the poison blockages inside an ordinary human body.
Several plants in this greenhouse resembled those from her previous world, though their energy quality was far weaker.
On the other side of the greenhouse, she found black berries growing wild among the shrubs.
Ning Zhen picked one and examined it before placing it into her mouth.
It was sweet and juicy.
The texture was soft, safe enough for a stomach that had endured hunger for too long.
She picked a few more without hesitation.
The fresh sweetness quickly faded on her tongue.
It was enough to ease the emptiness in her stomach.
After a few handfuls, strength gradually returned to her body.
Her steps became a bit lighter.
Ning Zhen continued toward the back of the greenhouse.
This area was less crowded than the front.
In the right rear corner stood a small work area filled with old gardening tools.
A curved metal fixture with a basin beneath it caught her attention.
She stared at it for several seconds.
Qingyu’s memory told her it was a sink.
“Sink?”
She pronounced the word with hesitation.
It sounded far too strange to her ears.
Qingyu had often helped her mother wash fruits and herbs there.
In Azura, clean water flowed through stone formations or simple artifacts.
This world seemed to use strange objects for similar purposes.
Her gaze moved around the back of the greenhouse.
Qingyu’s memories once again revealed small fragments of her mother planting more special herbs in this area.
The household servants rarely touched this place because they found it too messy and full of insects.
And sure enough, beneath an old apple tree with dew clinging to its branches, a small silver snake lay coiled among wild grass, dried leaves, and rotten apples that had fallen to the ground.
Its body was no longer than an adult’s arm.
And there was something unusual about the creature.
A tiny protrusion resembling a young horn grew from its head, giving it an arrogant appearance that was, strangely enough, rather adorable.
Sensing Ning Zhen’s presence, the snake raised its head.
Its small eyes reflected the pale light of dawn.
A soft hiss sounded.
It was wary, but did not attack.
Ning Zhen lowered her gaze to the little creature.
She could sense that the snake had noticed something within her.
The dragon aura from the Dragon Point was still far too weak to be called power.
Yet, to a creature with spiritual instinct, that trace remained clear enough.
The silver snake shifted to the side, moving back to make a way without realizing it.
And right where the small creature had been resting, Ning Zhen saw something that made her eyes change.
The tip of a Fire Tuber was emerging from the soil.
It was not large.
Its outer skin was rough and reddish, with faint cracks like dying embers.
In Azura, a plant like this would not even qualify for storage in a major sect’s warehouse.
But for a human body as close to death as Lin Qingyu’s, this was tremendous luck.
Ning Zhen knelt in front of the little snake.
Her breathing was still unstable, but her voice remained calm.
“Thank you.”
The silver snake only stared at her in silence.
In Azura, spiritual herbs were seldom left unguarded.
The stronger the herb, the stronger the beast protecting it.
But this little snake did not feel dangerous at all.
Or perhaps its instincts were simply sharper than those of the humans in this house.
Ning Zhen carefully pulled the Fire Tuber from the earth, making sure not to damage its main root.
The moment it left the soil, a faint warmth spread across her palm.
Hunger stabbed through her stomach again.
She did not even glance at the apples nearby.
Hunger could wait.
Recovering this body mattered more.
She sat cross-legged, peeled away the Fire Tuber’s outer skin with her teeth, and bit into its flesh.
Bitterness instantly filled her mouth.
Ning Zhen’s brows furrowed.
Good…
The more bitter it was, the purer its energy.
Heat began spreading from her stomach toward her chest.
A thin energy moved through her blood vessels and meridians, which had long been blocked by poison.
At first, it was only a faint warmth.
But a few seconds later, that warmth turned into painful pressure, almost like something inside her body was being forced open.
Ning Zhen lowered her head abruptly.
A cough caught in her throat before black blood splattered onto the ground.
Her body swayed.
One hand immediately pressed against the earth to keep herself from falling.
Her chest felt as if it were being squeezed from within.
The poison that had settled in Lin Qingyu’s organs was being disturbed by the Fire Tuber’s energy.
She closed her eyes for a moment and steadied her breathing.
This body was too fragile.
If she forced it to absorb the energy too quickly, its meridians might collapse before they could recover.
After a while, Ning Zhen opened her eyes and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.
“The qi in this world is too thin…”
Her voice was low and hoarse.
“Even a second-grade plant has lost most of its effect.”
Even so, the result was better than she had expected.
At least her blood flow had begun to open.
She remained seated cross-legged on the cold ground of the greenhouse, allowing the Fire Tuber’s heat to spread slowly through her body.
This time, the flow was a little smoother.
But before she could truly begin recovering, a faint scraping sound came from beside her.
The silver snake had returned.
This time, something was held in its small mouth.
Its movements were unsteady as it dragged the object in front of Ning Zhen, a black stone.
Its shape was round but uneven, and its surface rough and dull.
No spiritual light or obvious energy came from it.
It looked like nothing more than an ordinary stone from a riverbank.
But the moment it was placed before her, the Dragon Point inside Ning Zhen’s body stirred violently.
A pulse spread through her meridians.
Then another, stronger than before.
Something inside her seemed to recognize the stone.
Ning Zhen froze.
For an instant, vague fragments flashed through her mind.
A red sky above Azura.
The roar of a dragon shaking the mountains.
And a black-gold light she had seen only briefly before her former kingdom collapsed.
The fragments vanished immediately.
But the Dragon Point had not stopped pulsing.
Ning Zhen’s gaze deepened.
There was something inside that stone.
She felt something terribly familiar.
Without rushing, she reached out her hand.