The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

At the break of dawn the next day, Yun Yun Shan rose early, personally retrieving a long-sealed jar of Nu'er Hong from his wine cellar.

He made his way to the willow tree outside the village, where the blind Daoist sat cross-legged.

With most of the village children attending school, the blind Daoist was alone beneath the tree.

"Greetings, esteemed Daoist," Yun Yun Shan said respectfully.

He was well aware that this blind Daoist, who had suddenly appeared at Yun Family Village a year ago, was very likely a cultivator.

During his years in the military, Yun Yun Shan had once witnessed the awe-inspiring presence of a mountain immortal. That experience had given him a keen sense for identifying such beings.

"No need to be so formal, Brother Yun," the blind Daoist replied with a faint smile. His nose twitched slightly, catching the aroma of the Nu'er Hong and roasted chicken Yun Yun Shan was carrying.

"I've long admired you, Daoist. Today, I've brought this jar of fine wine and a roasted chicken as a small offering," Yun Yun Shan said, setting the wine and chicken on the stone table in front of the Daoist as he took a seat.

"This wine smells wonderful!"

The Daoist wasted no time, unsealing the jar and letting the intoxicating aroma fill the air. Unable to resist, he began drinking eagerly.

Afterward, he deftly tore off a drumstick from the roasted chicken, devouring it with relish. His lips glistened with grease as he praised, "Wine and roast chicken—what a treat! It's been ages since this old Daoist enjoyed such fine fare!"

Watching the Daoist expertly tear into the chicken, Yun Yun Shan couldn't help but doubt whether the man was truly blind.

"Now then, Brother Yun, I assume you didn't bring these offerings without a reason. What is it you need from this old Daoist?"

After his meal, the Daoist leaned back, burping contentedly as he looked—or seemed to look—at Yun Yun Shan with a guileless expression.

Yun Yun Shan hesitated briefly before speaking. "Daoist, you've been staying at Yun Family Village for over a year now, haven't you?"

"Indeed. To be precise, one year, three months, and twelve days," the Daoist replied with a smile.

"Why do you ask, Brother Yun? Surely you didn't come all this way just to count the days I've been here? Or perhaps you find my presence at your village's entrance an eyesore and wish to send me away?"

The Daoist chuckled softly.

"That's a misunderstanding!" Yun Yun Shan quickly clarified. "I've actually been observing you over the past year, and I suspect you're a cultivator from the mountains. Am I correct?"

The Daoist fell silent, the atmosphere growing heavy with tension.

For what felt like an eternity, he remained quiet, drinking deeply from the wine jar. Finally, he broke into a warm, slightly sheepish smile. "Brother Yun, I didn't expect you to have such sharp eyes."

"So, it's true!"

Though he had long suspected it, hearing the Daoist's confirmation left Yun Yun Shan deeply shaken.

A year ago, when the blind Daoist had first arrived and refused to leave, many of the villagers were unhappy. They feared the scruffy, blind man would tarnish the village's reputation or disrupt the Yun clan's fortunes.

It was Yun Yun Shan who had persuaded the clan elders to let the Daoist stay, reasoning that as long as he caused no trouble, there was no harm in his presence.

Even then, Yun Yun Shan had suspected the Daoist might be an extraordinary individual.

Over the year, the Daoist's stories of immortals had drawn many children, including Yun Yan Shui, to the willow tree. This only strengthened Yun Yun Shan's belief that the man was no ordinary wanderer.

But suspicion was one thing—confirmation was another.

"May I ask which sect you belong to, Daoist?" Yun Yun Shan ventured.

"The Temple of the Three Purities," the Daoist replied.

"Oh?"

"I was once a disciple of the Temple of the Three Purities. But the temple is no more—destroyed, its people scattered. I am all that remains."

"So that's why you ended up here in Yun Family Village?"

"Exactly."

"This village has a decent location, with a minor spiritual vein running beneath it. Though the vein's quality is low, it provides natural spiritual energy, making it an ideal place for me to recuperate.

Rest assured, I mean no harm to your village or its people. Once I've recovered, I'll leave on my own."

Yun Yun Shan was a warm-hearted man, and though the Daoist's eyes were blind, his heart was not.

If not for Yun Yun Shan's intervention, convincing the clan elders to let him stay, the Daoist might not have been able to recover in peace.

And today, the gift of wine and chicken further solidified the Daoist's goodwill toward him.

Because of this, the Daoist saw no reason to hide his identity or the reason for his presence.

"Daoist, if you wish, you are welcome to stay in Yun Family Village permanently," Yun Yun Shan offered eagerly.

His invitation was motivated by two reasons.

First, he believed the Daoist's words. If the man had any ill intentions, he could have destroyed the village long ago.

The second reason was that this was an extraordinary opportunity—a mountain cultivator, taking refuge to heal.

Such a figure was not someone ordinary mortals like the Yun Family could easily come into contact with.

If Yun Yun Shan could establish a good relationship with him, it could only bring benefits without any downsides.

Moreover, the matter of the bronze mirror—whether it could help his children embark on the path of cultivation—would require the guidance of a genuine cultivator. For now, however, the existence of the mirror needed to remain a secret.

The blind Daoist, however, shook his head slightly. "I'm afraid staying here permanently could bring calamities upon your Yun Family Village. I have many enemies, and the karma of my presence here is more than your village can bear."

"If we receive the Daoist's kindness, we will accept the consequences of the karma that follows. None of us in the Yun family fear death. Daoist, rest assured," Yun Yun Shan replied earnestly, his tone resolute.

The blind Daoist's expression softened, and a faint smile appeared on his face. He found himself growing increasingly fond of this mortal before him.

It was a pity, however, that Yun Yun Shan lacked spiritual roots. Otherwise, the Daoist would have gladly taken him as a disciple and passed down his teachings.

"Daoist, would you be willing to teach my children the path of cultivation?" Yun Yun Shan asked, cupping his hands respectfully.

"Your children are?"

"Yun Yan Shui—he's the boy who often comes here to listen to your stories. As for my daughter, I don't believe you've met her. Her name is Yun Yan Shuang."

"Ah, that boy," the Daoist said with a chuckle, recalling the lean, eager youth who often brought wine to coax more stories from him. "I've seen him. Your son does not possess spiritual roots and is thus unable to cultivate.

As for your daughter, bring her here, and I will examine her."

Hearing this, Yun Yun Shan felt a glimmer of hope.

"Is it truly impossible for someone without spiritual roots to cultivate?" he pressed.

"Without spiritual roots, there is no connection to sense and guide the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

Spiritual roots are the foundation of cultivation. Without them, it is impossible to start," the Daoist explained.

"Is there any way to grant my son spiritual roots?"

"There are methods," the Daoist replied, his expression grave, "but they are exceedingly difficult. Currently, the idea of granting spiritual roots to someone who lacks them remains largely a legend within the cultivation world.

If your son were somehow to gain spiritual roots, such an event would draw immense attention and could bring disaster to your family and village.

So, it is better not to force the issue. Let your son live his life as a mortal. Attempting cultivation without spiritual roots will only bring harm, not benefit. You will become the target of countless forces."

The Daoist's warning was stern, and Yun Yun Shan felt a chill run down his spine. He committed the words firmly to memory.

If both Yun Yan Shui and Yun Yan Shuang lacked spiritual roots, the bronze mirror might not be of much use to them.

But what if their children—the next generation—possessed spiritual roots?

The thought flickered through Yun Yun Shan's mind. Fixing his gaze on the Daoist, he asked, "Daoist, may I ask, is it possible for mortals like us, without spiritual roots, to have descendants with the aptitude for cultivation?"

"It is possible," the Daoist replied, "but the chances are slim. Generally, only those with spiritual roots who pair with someone of equal or greater aptitude have a high likelihood of producing descendants with spiritual roots.

That is why mountain cultivators, when seeking a Dao companion, typically choose someone with similar or superior spiritual qualities."

"Thank you, Daoist, for enlightening me. I shall return tomorrow to trouble you again."

Yun Yun Shan rose and bowed deeply, preparing to leave. His plan was to return with Yun Yan Shuang the next day so the Daoist could assess whether she possessed spiritual roots.

As for his son, he could only hope that, one day, Yan Shui would find a partner and have children with the potential for cultivation.