The Nanhua Mountains stretched across more than two thousand li, an endless maze of treacherous peaks where venomous snakes and fierce beasts often prowled. Thick clouds and mist blanketed the range year-round, making it nearly impossible to tell direction, so aside from the occasional woodcutter or hunter living at the foot of the outer peaks, the deeper reaches of the mountains saw almost no human footprints.
At the very heart of the Nanhua range, several peaks rising nearly a thousand zhang formed a ring around a vast valley. This valley was shrouded year-round in an unnaturally dense fog—beyond two or three zhang, nothing could be seen at all.
Bold mountain folk had once tried, in groups, to explore this strange sea of mist. But after walking some ten-odd zhang into the fog, they would lose all sense of direction completely. Often they would wander for hours before finally stumbling free of the cloud cover, only to find they had returned to their starting point. After several failed attempts, these people finally gave up, leaving the mysterious valley well alone, and warned their families and neighbors never to set foot there.
One day, a handsome young man dressed in flowing white robes, cradling a newborn infant in his arms, sped toward the valley as though running at full speed, yet looked completely at ease—as relaxed as a man out for a leisurely stroll.
Before long, the white-robed young man arrived before the great valley and stopped at the edge of the dense mist. He drew from his robes a piece of red jade no larger than a soybean, murmured a few words to it under his breath, then flicked his wrist and tossed it into the fog. The red jade became a streak of red light as it shot into the mist, and vanished.
About the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, a powerful gust suddenly swept out from the depths of the valley, howling all the way to the young man's face, only to dissolve into white light before his eyes.
The white-robed young man seemed entirely accustomed to this, showing no surprise. Holding the infant close, he strode quickly into the valley's depths along a path roughly a zhang wide, carved through the fog by the dispersing wind. Moments later, behind him, the thick clouds churned and rolled back into place, swallowing the freshly formed passage. The great valley returned to its usual state.
After walking some two or three hundred zhang along the path, the haze before the young man suddenly vanished without a trace. In its place stood row upon row of towers and pavilions—too many to count—along with roads crisscrossing in every direction. Here and there, men and women dressed just as he was moved among the buildings. Within this mist-shrouded valley stood a secluded town.
"Well, if it isn't Brother Jian Han! Back from completing your mission!" A dark-faced man of similar age spotted him carrying the infant and asked in astonishment. "Whose child is that you're holding? Don't tell me you secretly fathered one out there!"
"Hah! What are you talking about! If I wanted to have a child, I'd have one openly—why would I sneak around about it! I don't even know whose kid this is. I picked him up on my way back!" the white-robed young man said.
"Picked up!? Why would you bring some mortal child you picked up back to the family?" The dark-faced man's expression was full of doubt, only half-believing him.
"This little one has a spirit root—if you don't believe me, check for yourself! The family's recruiting new disciples anyway, so I figured I'd just bring him along. Strange thing, really—I found him on a desolate hillside, stark naked, not crying or fussing at all. I searched a good ten-odd li around the area and didn't see another soul anywhere! Seeing as he happened to have a spirit root, I couldn't bear to leave him on the bare mountainside, so I just brought him back to the family." Seeing the disbelief on the other man's face, Jian Han gave him a brief account of where the child had come from.
The dark-faced man reached out and felt the sleeping infant's slender wrist, then after a moment of consideration said, "Indeed has a spirit root, though it looks rather mixed. His aptitude probably won't be very good."
"Hmph, and what are you, a Foundation Establishment cultivator who can judge spirit root attributes? Never mind, I won't waste my breath on you. I'm going to find Third Elder to report on my mission, and ask what to do about this child while I'm at it." With that, the white-robed young man waved a hand in farewell and walked off down the street, heading toward an elegant three-story pavilion.
……
Three years later, in this same secluded town within the valley, a toddler just past his third birthday, still unsteady on his feet, was quietly conversing with a woman in her thirties or forties—somewhat plump, with a kind and gentle face.
"Auntie Yun, you said I was picked up by Uncle Jian Han, right?" The child looked up, tugging at the sleeve of the woman resting in her chair, his words coming out in the babbling tone of early childhood, though noticeably more fluent than other children his age.
"That's right. Your name, Wugen—literally 'Five Roots'—that's what he gave you," the middle-aged woman said softly, stroking the child's hair.
She had lived in this valley since birth. Lacking any spirit root herself, she was one of the few ordinary mortals in the town and had never once left it. For the past seven or eight years, her main duty had been caring for a rotating group of infants and toddlers, raising them until they turned five, at which point someone would always come to take the children away to other parts of the valley. As a result, she had long grown used to dealing with squalling, fussy infants, and had only gotten more skilled at it over the years.
This afternoon, more than twenty children were napping soundly, and she had taken the chance to lean back in her armchair and rest a while. She hadn't expected Wugen—usually the quietest, most well-behaved of the bunch, who never fussed—to come find her with so many questions.
"Auntie Yun, why am I called Wugen? I heard someone mention 'Five-Element Spirit Root' before—what does that mean?" The child tilted his head up, his expression full of curiosity.
It seemed her nap wasn't going to happen today. Not that she minded much; she settled the child onto her lap and began to talk with him in a low voice.
"Auntie Yun doesn't really know either. What I've heard is that only those born with a spirit root can cultivate. People without one remain ordinary mortals. You're lucky, Wugen, born with one. Once you turn five, the Jian clan will find someone to take you off to start your cultivation. Auntie Yun has no spirit root, so I'll just stay busy my whole life," the middle-aged woman answered patiently, and at the end, let out a soft sigh.
"What's a Five-Element Spirit Root, then? You said before that's why my name is Wugen?" the child asked again.
"That's right. Auntie Yun heard from Uncle Jian Han that your root is the Five-Element kind, and it doesn't sound like a very good one, which is why he named you Wugen. As for exactly what it means, Auntie Yun doesn't know much either. You'll understand when you're older." The woman's tone remained gentle and patient throughout, though whenever she ran into a question she couldn't answer, she gave the same answer she always did.
"Auntie Yun, then what does it mean to cultivate?" the child asked.
"Auntie Yun doesn't really know that either. With a spirit root you can cultivate, and then you can live for a hundred years and more, never getting sick. You'll be able to use all sorts of magic too, and be incredibly powerful! When Wugen grows up, you'll be just as amazing!" The woman's knowledge on the subject was genuinely limited, and in those few short sentences she had already exhausted everything she knew, though her tone carried no small amount of envy.
"Oh. So where are we now?" The child changed the subject, no longer dwelling on spirit roots and cultivation, and instead asked the sort of question children usually asked.
"We're at the Jian clan, in the Nanhua Mountains." The woman felt a small wave of relief; at least the child had stopped asking things she found hard to answer.
"Where are the Nanhua Mountains, then?" The question seemed to have been prepared in advance, one leading naturally to the next.
"The Nanhua Mountains are in the south of Jinyan Kingdom." The woman pinched the child's soft, chubby cheek as she answered.
"And where's Jinyan Kingdom?"
"Jinyan Kingdom is on the Tianyuan Continent. Auntie Yun's heard that the Tianyuan Continent is enormous—Jinyan Kingdom, big as it is, is really just a tiny, insignificant little country within it." The woman answered with great patience, but no sooner had she finished than a flicker of regret crossed her mind. If the child kept asking what a "country" was, or what a "continent" was, how would she ever answer that?
Fortunately, the child didn't ask anything of the sort. Instead, he asked a question so strange it caught her off guard:
"Auntie Yun, do you know of a country called Tang—the Great Tang?"