The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

Mist drifted through the air, carrying with it a sense of tranquility, as auspicious light danced amidst the early morning haze. The first rays of dawn blanketed the land, marking the start of a new day in Yun Family Village.

Yun Yunyang, having returned home with his wife and daughter, settled into the ancestral residence left behind by his late father. Meanwhile, Yun Yunyue moved with his son to a house near their fourth brother's home, proclaiming that it would be easier for them to look out for one another.

"Brother, where are you headed so early?"

Yun Yanshuang, already up and about, spotted her brother leaving the house with a blackened war bow—one their father had brought back from the battlefield—and couldn't help but ask curiously.

"I'm heading out to hunt some game to use as offerings," Yun Yanshui replied with a smile.

"Be careful on the road."

"I will," he said gently, slinging a quiver of arrows over his back before stepping out. He didn't forget to call out his goodbyes to his parents as he departed.

"Yandong! Yandong!"

With his gear in hand, Yun Yanshui jogged to Yandong's home. From the yard emerged a woman clad in coarse linen, her head wrapped in a faded blue cloth.

Her face was sallow, her frame painfully thin, and her lips devoid of color. She looked as though a strong breeze might knock her over.

"Yanshui, you've come looking for Yandong again?" she asked with a weak smile.

"Yes, Auntie. Is Yandong home?"

Yun Yanshui nodded politely.

The frail woman before him was Yandong's mother. She had long suffered from poor health. Yandong's father, a collateral member of the Yun clan, had followed Yun Yunshan into the military in his youth, only to perish on the battlefield. He hadn't even lived long enough to meet his newborn son, leaving behind a widow and an orphan.

Among all the households in the village, Yandong's was undoubtedly the most destitute. Were it not for the occasional aid of nearby clansmen and Yun Yanshui's family, Yandong and his mother might not have survived.

"He's at the private school. If it's something urgent, let me know, and I'll pass along the message when he returns," the woman offered weakly.

"No need to trouble you, Auntie. I just wanted to invite him to go hunting with me. Since he's busy studying, let him focus on his lessons. Hopefully, he'll earn some accolades when he grows up."

Yanshui hesitated for a moment before continuing, his concern evident. "By the way, Auntie, your health seems to be worsening. You must take better care of yourself. Yandong will need you to see him earn his title and find a good wife."

Her pale face softened with a weak smile. "Thank you for your concern. It's just an old ailment—it's nothing serious. Yunxun prescribed me some medicine, and I'm feeling better than before."

She coughed lightly, then spoke again, her tone kind.

Yun Yunxun, the son of their third grandfather, had ventured far in his youth, apprenticing under a renowned physician. Upon returning to the village, he had established a small clinic, treating clansmen free of charge. His reputation for skill and generosity was widely respected.

Occasionally, when the clinic ran short on herbs, Yunxun would personally venture into the mountains behind the village to gather more.

"Uncle Yunxun's medical skills are excellent. With his prescriptions, I'm sure you'll recover soon!"

"Auntie, I'll be off now. Take care."

"When Yandong returns from school, I'll let him know you came by."

"Thank you. I'll come back later."

With that, Yun Yanshui bid her farewell and headed toward Yunzhang Mountain.

Yunzhang Mountain lay adjacent to Lizhai Valley, just a few miles behind Yun Family Village. The mountain's dense forests were home to an abundance of wild game, including hares, pheasants, foxes, and deer.

Each day, after tending to their fields, the men of Yun Family Village would venture into the forest with hunting gear, hoping to bring back game to supplement their families' meals. Some clansmen even relied on hunting for their livelihood, selling prepared hares, pheasants, and fox pelts in town for a modest income.

Though Yun Yanshui appeared to be only seven or eight years old, he had started accompanying his father on hunting trips since the age of five. Over the years, he had gained considerable experience.

In his younger days, lacking the strength to draw a bow, he relied on a specially crafted slingshot to hunt small game like hares and pheasants. Now older and stronger, he could wield a bow, and under his father Yun Yunshan's tutelage, had learned the basics of archery.

Though he couldn't match his father's skill of striking a target from a hundred paces, his archery was considered top-notch among his peers.

Crouching low, he slipped into a thicket.

Yanshui slowed his breathing, keeping his movements deliberate and controlled. Through the gaps in the foliage, he spotted a gray hare a short distance away, nibbling on a blade of grass.

Its long ears twitched back and forth, scanning for danger, ever-alert to the slightest sound.

Fully aware of the hare's skittish nature, Yanshui knew any sudden movement would send it bolting.

Remaining hidden within the brush, he calmed his breathing further. Slowly, he drew an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it onto the bowstring. With painstaking care, he pulled the string taut, his aim steady as he took sight of the unsuspecting hare.

"Bullseye!"

Yun Yanshui let the bowstring snap with a sharp twang, the arrow streaking through the air to strike the hare squarely.

A single shot, and the target was down. Excited, Yanshui sprang out from the underbrush, making his way to the fallen rabbit. Pulling out the arrow, he tucked the hare into the pouch at his waist.

Wasting no time, he moved deeper into Yunzhang Mountain, eager to hunt more game.

"These should be enough offerings for a while. Time to head home," he muttered to himself, glancing at the now bulging pouch on his hip. A satisfied smile crept across his face.

By the end of his hunt, Yun Yanshui had successfully brought down five hares and three pheasants.

He couldn't help but notice how much easier the hunt had been since stepping into the first layer of the Fetal Breath realm. Creatures that had once seemed agile and elusive now appeared sluggish to his eyes.

Every time he held his breath and loosed an arrow, it found its mark without fail. His shots never missed.

The only regret was his inability to channel the spiritual energy within his dantian into his archery. If he could master that, his arrows would carry far more devastating power, capable of felling prey far greater than mere rabbits and pheasants.

Satisfied with his haul, Yanshui tidied up the scene and made his way to a small stream. He washed the blood from his hands and slung his black war bow over his shoulder, preparing to leave.

However, before he could take more than a few steps, his newly heightened senses picked up a commotion in the distance.

The sounds of a fight—angry shouts and curses—echoed faintly through the forest. His sharp ears caught the voices clearly, many of which he recognized.

"It's Uncle Yunxun and some of the others from the village!"

Alarmed, Yanshui quickly oriented himself toward the source of the noise and sprinted in that direction.

"Bah! Yun clan, my foot! In front of the Zhou clan, you're nothing but dirt!"

A coarse, booming voice rang out, filled with contempt.

"Today, this spirit herb belongs to the Zhou family. We saw it first, and that makes it ours. If you Yun dogs think you can take it, go ahead and try! Next time, we won't just beat you black and blue—we'll make sure you regret it!"

Near a cliffside deep in Yunzhang Mountain, a burly man wearing a gray, sleeveless shirt stood tall, his chest exposed as he hurled insults at Yun Yunxun and the other Yun clansmen.

Behind him, more than a dozen Zhou clansmen stood, their burly frames and towering statures making them appear even more menacing. They gripped hunting tools—machetes, bows, and crossbows—watching the bruised and battered Yun clansmen with disdain. Smirks and sneers curled their lips.

The Zhou clansmen were clearly woodcutters or hunters, here for their own purposes. But for reasons unknown, a conflict had broken out between them and the Yun clan members led by Yun Yunxun.

The disparity in strength between the two groups was glaring. The Zhou men were tall and muscular, while the Yun clansmen, though determined, were no match for their opponents. The outcome of the scuffle was predictable: the Yun clansmen were quickly defeated.

Bruised and battered, they lay sprawled on the ground, their hard-earned game and harvested herbs all taken by the Zhou clan. Even the basket of medicinal herbs Yun Yunxun had painstakingly gathered was snatched away.

Yet Yun Yunxun, known for his gentle and honest nature, would not have escalated matters despite the overwhelming disparity in numbers and strength. He would have reluctantly accepted the loss of their game and herbs to avoid further conflict.

But what he couldn't bear—what infuriated him to his core—was the theft of the spirit herb he had risked his life to harvest from the cliffside.

A spirit herb!

His master had once told him that spirit herbs were treasures worth a fortune, highly prized by immortal cultivators for their use in refining pills and elixirs. If the Yun family could keep this herb, it could cover five or six years' worth of taxes owed to the government.

Yun Yunxun's face darkened as he stared at the man before him. "You can take the game and the herbs. But that spirit herb—you must leave it!"