Blossoming Path

Everything blended together in a blur of training, cultivation, and stolen moments of sleep. My body ached in ways I hadn’t thought possible, but I could feel the difference—the growth. Each day, I pushed myself further than I ever had before. And each morning, I woke up feeling a little less broken than I should have.

I had my suspicions. No matter how many times I told Tianyi not to use her healing on me while I slept, I had a sneaking feeling she ignored me. She tried to play it off with her usual innocent expression, her antennae twitching slightly whenever I brought it up, but I knew better. I’d wake up with a deep warmth in my muscles, the kind that came from more than just natural recovery.

Honestly, it was infuriating—and humbling. Without her, I’d still be crawling out of bed like a half-crushed insect, even with my newfound power from the Golden Drop Elixir. Thanks to her, I was recovering twice as fast, my muscles knitting back stronger each time they tore under the weight.

Windy, on the other hand, hadn’t stirred. He floated in his basin, his breathing steady but shallow. The corruption was gone, thanks to the Essence Purifying elixir, but it seemed that his body needed time to repair itself. Every day, I checked on him, hoping for some sign of improvement, but nothing yet. All I could do was monitor his condition and wait.

I mulled over the problem as I continued my training, each step accompanied by the rhythmic crunch of snow beneath my boots. It would've been nice if the Verdant Lotus given us more information, but they'd been silent. No response from the sect since we sent out a messenger to hand over the seeds of the Bloodsoul Bloom, all I knew about it, and the bodies of their second-class disciples and the demonic cultivator who killed them.

I couldn’t afford to let this stagnation continue, nor could I afford to stand here and wait.

Communication and support were all tied to forces beyond my control—and I hated that.

The only thing I could control was myself. My training. My skills. Preparing potions for any possible situation. The Interface hadn’t given me any new quests recently, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t push myself further. I just needed to be smart about it.

“Use the Refinement Simulation Technique on an alchemical reaction mid-combat,” I muttered, repeating the vague requirement of the quest for the Combat Anticipation Array. I’d been gnawing at that puzzle for days now. How could I leverage alchemical reactions while fighting? It wasn’t as though I could carry a pill furnace into battle.

Accelerated Reading was stuck, no thanks to the lack of books in the village. The Million Books Pavilion had been a treasure trove I hadn’t fully appreciated. Now, I was left grasping for scraps of knowledge, kicking myself for not copying more texts while I had the chance.

Rooted Banyan Stance, on the other hand, was a different story. With Elder Ming’s permission, I’d been working on it in isolation, holding the stance for extended periods to fulfill the prerequisite for upgrading it to the next stage. It wasn’t enough to simply maintain the form; I’d started experimenting with imperfect stances, mimicking real battle scenarios.

Every time I sparred with Wang Jun, I remembered the fights with Wei Long and Ping Hai. The times I couldn’t execute the stance perfectly had left me vulnerable. But the experimentation was paying off. I’d noticed that even when I couldn’t maintain the stance’s integrity, my body still retained a density and hardness that seemed unnatural.

That got me thinking: could the Rooted Banyan Stance become more than just a defensive technique? If I could harness its power offensively, combining my immovable foundation with the explosive strength of the Heavenly Flame Mantra, it might just change the way I fought entirely. The problem, of course, was timing. The stance required me to stay rooted, immobile—a major disadvantage in battle if misused. Finding the right balance between stillness and motion was a challenge I was determined to overcome.

I closed my eyes, letting the idea take form in my mind. A vivid image of Wei Long loomed, his towering frame as imposing as ever. His fists had been like battering rams, each swing carrying enough force to shatter stone. If I could make the Rooted Banyan Stance work offensively against someone like him, it would be proof that this idea wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy.

I sank into the stance, my legs rooted firmly to the ground, my left hand extended. I pictured Wei Long charging, his massive fist cutting through the air toward me. I exhaled slowly, grounding myself, then visualized the counter.

ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!

My lead hand snapped back as I shifted my weight, pulling all the force from my rooted position into a single explosive punch with my right. The motion wasn’t fluid—it didn’t need to be. I didn’t strike with brute strength alone but concentrated power, focused entirely on one point.

Not a real strike, I reminded myself, but the placement of where his fist should meet mine. The visualization sharpened as I imagined the moment of impact: my strength against his, amplified by the stance’s immovable nature.

For a brief second, I stilled completely, my muscles tensed as if waiting for the outcome to reveal itself.

"... Perhaps this is something that only works in real combat," I muttered, my voice low as I straightened from the stance.

The truth was, it was impossible to know if it would’ve worked. Wei Long had been the strongest opponent I’d ever faced, his raw power unmatched. But this wasn’t about matching strength for strength. It was about precision. Just like how Tianyi did, overwhelming him with pinpoint strikes rather than meeting him head-on.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I continued to test out my theory, with varying outcomes. The closer I was to the horse stance, the more I was able to root myself in place.

Rooted Banyan Stance has reached level 6.

By the time I finished training for the evening, my body felt like a lead weight, but I still had one last task. I trudged toward my greenhouse, inspecting the rows of plants nestled under frost-covered glass. My garden outside was faring worse, the winter chill slowing growth to a crawl.

As I tended to the plants, my mind wandered to the dwindling supplies. No matter how carefully I rationed the herbs and essences, it wouldn’t be enough. I needed to find a way to expand the greenhouse—or a new source of materials entirely. That would be another challenge for another day.

The cold air prickled my skin, and I caught sight of Tianyi in the distance. She was practicing again, now that her wounds had mostly healed, unimpeded by the corrupting energy. Her silhouette was illuminated by the pale moonlight, and her wings shimmered faintly as she twisted and turned.

I watched for a moment, curiosity gnawing at me. Her movements were elegant but offbeat, almost out of rhythm. It wasn’t like anything I’d seen her do before, and for Tianyi—who usually moved with insect-like precision—it was odd.

Unable to contain myself, I walked over. “What are you doing?”

She froze mid-step, her antennae twitching as she glanced at me. “Practicing,” she said simply.

“Practicing what?”

She sighed, lowering her hands. “During the fight with that demonic cultivator… I felt something. A burst of energy, warmth. It gave me the strength I needed to fight back. I’ve been trying to recreate it.”

My brow furrowed. “A burst of energy? Like enlightenment?”

She shook her head. “What does that mean?”

I tried to verbalize how it felt. I'd experienced it. Against Ping Hai, it had been crucial in helping me coalesce my training of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter into something beyond just technique.

I closed my eyes, letting the memory of that fight resurface.

"It’s… hard to describe," I said slowly. "It wasn’t like figuring out a new technique or executing a plan. It was like…" I exhaled, trying to piece it together. "If my body, my thoughts—everything—ceased to exist except for that single moment. When I fought Ping Hai, I didn’t think about countering. I didn’t analyze his stance, his trajectory, his force. My body already knew what to do. It wasn’t reaction. It wasn’t instinct. It was… like I was moving in perfect rhythm with the world itself."

I met her gaze. "It was like stepping into a river and letting it carry me forward. No resistance, no force. Just flow."

Her brows furrowed slightly, and I could tell she was considering my words. "Elder Ming said it's like dancing."

I blinked, the comparison catching me off guard. "Dancing?"

"Yes. But I don't think that's what it felt like. I already do that whenever I fight." She replied.

I sighed. I forgot she was a genius.

She spoke, continuing to explain her conundrum. “This was different. The shadow, she… she did something. Threw bottles at me. Some broke. She threw one of those things. A lantern. And then I was on fire.”

I froze. “Wait. She lit you on fire?”

She nodded, her gaze dropping. “At first, it hurt. But after I stopped burning, it felt… different. My vision blurred, my balance was off. But it was like I was floating. Like I was dancing on clouds.”

My thoughts churned as I tried to piece together her words. Fire? Warmth? Floating? “You’re saying being on fire helped?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “But only after the burning stopped.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. The mental image of Tianyi alight with flames wasn’t one I wanted to dwell on, but her words gnawed at me. There had to be more to this. Something I was missing.

“You said he threw bottles at you. Did any of the liquid get on you? Or… in your mouth?”

She blinked, her antennae twitching in thought. “Yes. there was alcohol. Why?”

My eyes narrowed as a theory began to take shape. “Have you ingested any alcohol since… well, since you turned human?”

“No, I haven't."

A grin tugged at my lips despite myself. “That might be the key. You’re a butterfly, but now you’re human. Maybe alcohol interacts with your body differently now, or their medicinal wine is made up of some special ingredient. It might’ve triggered whatever that burst of energy was. Let’s test it.”

Tianyi’s antennae stilled, her blue-tinged eyes widening. “You want me to drink alcohol?”

I nodded. “Not a lot. Just enough to see if it triggers the same reaction.”

She hesitated, her wings fluttering slightly. “And if it doesn’t? Will you light me on fire?”

"Why in the heavens would I do that?! Just—ugh, let me see if I still have Master Qiang's rice wine..."

I went inside, and collected a bottle. Handing it over to her, I watched as she gingerly picked up the bottle and put it to her lips.

GLUG!

GLUG!

"Hey, not that much!"

I stepped forward to snatch the bottle away from her, but before I could even get close, Tianyi leaned backwards.

Her foot connected squarely with my face, sending me stumbling back into the snow with a muffled groan.

My head snapped back, and I froze.

Tianyi swayed unsteadily, the bottle dangling from her hand, but her expression stopped me cold. Her usual calm, detached demeanor was gone, replaced by a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. Her cheeks were flushed, her antennae twitching erratically, and for the first time since she had turned human, she looked genuinely, undeniably furious.

“You stupid idiot!” she snapped, her voice uncharacteristically loud. “Why are you trying to take things from me?!”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “I was just—wait, what?”

Before I could gather my wits, she darted forward, her movements faster and more erratic than I’d ever seen.

Instinct kicked in. I dropped into the Rooted Banyan Stance, bracing myself just as her foot lashed out again. Her kick landed on my shoulder with a thunderous impact. But before I could counter or even process her next move, she hooked her leg around me, using the momentum to swing herself upward and deliver a sharp elbow straight to the side of my head.

Pain exploded in my skull, and my vision blurred. The world tilted as my legs buckled, and I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of me. I tried to scramble to my feet, but my body refused to cooperate, my limbs sluggish and unresponsive.

I looked up, dazed, just in time to see Tianyi standing over me, her fist raised. For a moment, I thought she might actually finish me off.

“Tianyi—wait, stop!” I croaked, too weak to move.

Her fist came down.

But instead of a devastating blow, it landed lightly on my chest, more of a push than a punch. I stared up at her, confused, as her shoulders began to shake. She sank to her knees beside me, her wings drooping as tears welled up in her glowing blue eyes.

“You’re such a stupid, stupid idiot,” she muttered, her voice cracking. “Always blaming yourself. For me. For Windy. For everything. It’s not your fault.”

Her voice, once muffled by her hands, rose again, a tangle of slurred words and hiccupping sobs. “You… you think it’s all your fault, don’t you? That Windy is… is…” She trailed off, sniffing loudly before continuing, her antennae twitching erratically. “He’s not gone, you idiot! He’s just… just sleeping. He’s tired. Because… because he’s strong, and you… you need to stop being stupid!”

I blinked, still sprawled on the snow, wondering what in the heavens had possessed me to hand her the bottle in the first place. My head throbbed, my ribs ached, and now the same person who’d knocked me down was crying on top of me, calling me stupid between gasping hiccups.

“Tianyi,” I started cautiously, trying to sit up. “I get it. I messed up. But can you—”

She jabbed a finger into my chest, cutting me off. “No! You don’t get it!” Her voice rose in pitch, her eyes glassy and tear-filled. “You think… you think everything’s your fault! But you’re wrong! It’s not! And you… you need to stop blaming yourself, okay?!”

Her words came out in a rush, barely coherent, and I found myself too stunned to argue. Before I could respond, she sniffled again, wiping at her face with her sleeve as fresh tears spilled over.

“And Windy… poor Windy…” Her voice broke, and she let out a shaky sob. “He’s hurt because of me. I should’ve protected him. But you… you keep blaming yourself. Why? Why would you do that, Kai?”

I sighed, finally managing to push myself up on one elbow. “Because I was the one who—”

“Don’t you dare try to shut me up!” she wailed, glaring at me through her tears. “I’m not done! You’re… you’re so stupid! And you think… you think you can fix everything, but you can’t, Kai! You need me! You need Windy! And… and we need you too, you idiot!”

This was going to be a long night—and an even longer headache in the morning.