Black Wolf and the Revealed Truth (1)
A month had already passed since I began learning Plant Nurturing. My daily routine hadn't changed much during that time. I still went up the mountain with Grandfather to gather herbs, then helped process and dry them back home. Whenever I had a moment, I'd head to the herb patch behind the house to pull weeds or even out the soil. On the surface, it was just the same ordinary days as before.
But the results were clearly different. In the past, there were days when Grandfather would roam the mountains all day and only find a few roots. These days, going together, we always came back with our baskets overflowing. Not just common herbs, but even the rare ones you needed luck to spot—like Hui Ling Grass, Qing Ling Grass, and even precious ginseng on lucky days.
At first, it was just a vague sensation upon entering the mountains, like a breeze brushing past. But after starting Plant Nurturing, that feeling sharpened. Now, I could distinguish the energy of the herbs I gathered often just by sensing their qi. Where each herb was hiding. Which ones weren't mature enough to touch. Even the condition of a single root underground.
Of course, I didn't reveal all of it. It was fine to show Grandfather, but who knew? So I always reacted a beat late. After he scanned around first, I'd point in another direction and say,
"How about checking over there?"
And most times, we'd find herbs there. Grandfather, who first thought it coincidence, had started tilting his head lately.
"Yeon-hwa."
"Yes?"
"You've gotten really good at spotting herbs lately."
I smiled sheepishly.
"Must be from watching you so much, Grandfather."
It wasn't a lie. It was just that what I'd "watched a lot" was the herbs' energy more than the herbs themselves.
But there was an even bigger change. The herb patch.
Behind our house was a plot about the size of one ma, planted with various herbs befitting a herb gatherer's family—Qing Ye Grass, Zhi Xue Grass, and the like. Before, it wasn't well-maintained. We were busy enough gathering in the mountains; tending the patch meticulously was tough.
But now it was different. Because I'd started looking after it in my spare time. Not with ordinary methods, though.
I glanced around, confirmed no one was watching, and extended my hand. Before me was a sprig of Qing Ye Grass with slightly wilted leaves. I focused my mind inward. There, my qi—still small, but far more stable than a month ago—settled steadily.
I slowly drew it up. The leaves trembled faintly, as if shaking in a breeze that wasn't there. And the wilted leaves regained their vigor.
I confirmed it and withdrew my hand.
"This should... be enough."
After a month of managing the patch like this, its condition had improved noticeably.
"The herbs are growing so well this year," Grandfather remarked one day as he inspected the patch.
I said nothing, just smiled.
And that change showed at the market too.
A few days ago, at the apothecary we traded with regularly. The owner was examining the herbs we'd brought, one by one. He stayed silent for a while. I tensed inwardly. Had I been too obvious?
But then he spoke.
"The quality's better than before."
"Is that so?"
The apothecary nodded.
"Yes. Stems and roots are all sturdy."
He held up one herb, inspecting it from all angles.
"These days, you don't see herbs like this often."
He glanced at me briefly, then said with a worried look,
"By the way, you said your granddaughter goes up the mountain with you?"
"That's right."
"Heard some herb gatherers have gone missing lately. Be careful, old timer."
Grandfather narrowed his eyes.
"Missing? Where?"
The apothecary set the herb down.
"Around Mi Ling Peak. Not a place gatherers usually go, but with herb prices rising, some got greedy."
"And?"
"Three went up... only one came back."
Herb gatherers dying in the mountains wasn't rare. Mauled by beasts or falling off cliffs. But.
"What about the one who returned?" Grandfather asked.
The apothecary hesitated.
"Said he was half out of his mind."
I perked up my ears.
"What did he say?"
"Not ordinary beasts... eyes glowing red..."
The apothecary shrugged.
"Folks think he saw things from fear."
Grandfather showed no reaction.
"I'll be careful anyway."
"Yes. Better avoid needless risks."
That day's trade ended at a better price than usual. Maybe because our herbs were in prime condition lately; the apothecary paid generously. Satisfaction showed on Grandfather's face.
Even after leaving the shop, that story lingered in my mind. Not ordinary beasts. Red eyes. It nagged at me oddly.
As I walked lost in thought—
"Yeon-hwa."
"Yes?"
"I've got a quick errand. Browse the market and wait."
I nodded.
"Okay."
The market was as lively as ever, even after a while away. Crowds bustled; merchants hawked loudly. I headed toward the stall where I'd bought that worn manual last time.
But the middle-aged man from before wasn't there. Someone else sat instead. I checked around—no mistake, it was the right spot. Stacks of old scriptures, scrolls, battered books. Just a different vendor.
A young man, mid-twenties maybe. I asked cautiously,
"Excuse me."
He looked up.
"Yeah?"
"What happened to the old guy selling books here?"
He thought, then tilted his head, puzzled.
"Old guy selling books?"
"Yeah, middle-aged with a beard."
His expression grew stranger.
"Here?"
"Yes. I bought a book from him a few days ago."
I pointed to the piled old books.
He glanced around, then back at me.
"Little miss."
"Yes?"
"I've been vending here three years... never seen him."
I faltered.
"...Pardon?"
He shrugged.
"This spot's always been mine."
My mind went blank.
"No way..."
It was definitely here. Corner of the market, stacks of worn books. Even now, the scene matched my memory perfectly.
I asked again.
"Really... no idea who he is?"
He shook his head.
"Maybe a wandering bookseller, but not vending here. It's me."
He grinned playfully.
"Maybe you saw him somewhere else, little miss?"
I couldn't reply.
That's weird...
That worn manual bought here let me enter Plant Nurturing. I lingered, scanning the stall, then turned away. But unease churned in my head.
Who was that middle-aged man? Why sell me that book?
"...No way he's a cultivator?"
I'd bought it in a rush, but selling something like that casually at a street stall was suspicious.
Probably coincidence...
I wandered the market a bit more, met Grandfather, and headed home.
We arrived home as the sun dipped west. I helped Grandfather unpack. Before it fully set, I headed to the herb patch behind the house. Routine now.
I squatted at the edge. Seeing it brimming with vitality satisfied me.
Then.
A strange sensation brushed past. Thanks to my Plant Spirit Body, I could faintly sense the mountain's state from afar, even at familiar spots.
The forest, usually serene, felt off. Like ripples from a stone tossed in a still lake.
"...What is it."
I stood and gazed at the mountain. The distant ridge loomed dark.
Then.
"Awooooooo—"
A wolf's howl echoed. But not an ordinary wolf. It carried a chilling aura that would freeze a mortal in terror.
I instinctively drew up my spirit energy. And realized.
The mountain was far, yet somehow... it felt like that wolf was staring right this way.