Once outside, Kai paused for a moment, taking in his surroundings. His modest shack, constructed with his own hands from rough-hewn wood and stone, stood perched on a hill overlooking a vast expanse of forest. The morning air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of damp leaves and soil. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy, dappling the ground below with patterns of gold and green.
Despite being a member of the Ember Sword Sect, Kai''s dwelling was far removed from the sect''s bustling main grounds—even from the outer members'' designated quarters. Instead, he had chosen to live deep in a forested area under the sect’s jurisdiction. This wasn’t just a personal choice born of a desire for solitude, but a practical decision dictated by his duties.
The forest served as a vital resource for the sect. It was here that wild spirit herbs, albeit of the lowest grade, grew in abundance. The sect had claimed the entire forest as part of their territory, carefully managing it to ensure the safe cultivation and harvest of these herbs. To maintain control, they had assigned lower-ranked members like Kai to scour the area periodically, gathering the herbs needed for alchemy, medicine, and cultivation.
Kai’s role as a herb collector made living in the forest a matter of convenience. Setting up his shack in the middle of his work area meant he could begin his tasks early and avoid the long, tiresome trek from the outer sect quarters to the forest every day.
There was little risk in his solitary life here. The forest was not a wild and untamed wilderness but a carefully monitored resource. The sect ensured that no dangerous creatures roamed within its boundaries, making it a relatively safe environment. For Kai, the forest offered a quiet refuge, a place where he could carry out his duties without interference or distraction.
He looked out over the sea of green below, his eyes scanning the horizon. Somewhere out there, hidden among the foliage, where the spirit herbs he was tasked to collect for the day. But, that would have to wait before breakfast.
Kai walked over to the small outdoor kitchen he had painstakingly built himself. It was a simple setup, but functional. A stone stove stood at its center, its rough surface darkened from years of use. Nearby, a stack of neatly chopped firewood leaned against a makeshift wooden rack, and a small clay pot sat on a weathered table, ready to be used for his morning meal.
Kneeling by the stove, Kai carefully arranged a handful of dry kindling inside the firebox. He struck flint against steel, sending a shower of sparks onto the tinder. After a few attempts and some patient coaxing, a small flame flickered to life. He fed it bits of wood, watching as the fire slowly grew, its warmth beginning to radiate outward. It took several minutes of effort before the stove was hot enough for cooking.
As he worked, Kai muttered under his breath, his thoughts drifting to the strange dreams that had been plaguing him for as long as he could remember. "I wish I had one of those stoves like they had in my dreams," he mused aloud, his tone wistful. "Just push a button, and the heat''s there, ready to go. No smoke, no fuss. It’d make this whole process so much faster."
He sighed, brushing soot from his hands. "Or at least," he added, "if I could conjure fire with my qi like some of the seniors do. A flick of their fingers, and they’ve got flames roaring. But no, here I am, rubbing sticks together like a mortal."
Despite his grumbling, there was no bitterness in his voice—just a resigned acceptance of his current limitations. For now, he would make do with what he had. The fire crackled softly as Kai began to gather the ingredients for his simple breakfast, the scent of smoke and the quiet sounds of the forest in the background.
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Kai reached for a clay jar resting on the wooden table, its surface smooth and worn from years of use. He scooped out a few cups of dried rice, the grains clinking softly against the sides of the ladle, and poured them into a giant wok before filling it with freshwater. Setting the wok on the stone stove, he watched as the flames licked its base, the water inside beginning to ripple and bubble.
As the water approached a boil, Kai sprinkled in a generous pinch of coarse salt, letting it dissolve into the steaming liquid. From a small pouch hanging nearby, he selected a handful of dried spirit herbs he had gathered days earlier. Their vibrant colors had faded during the drying process, but their potent aroma was unmistakable. Carefully, he crumbled the herbs into the bubbling mixture, the fragments swirling and mingling with the rice.
The transformation was immediate. As the starch from the rice thickened the water, turning it into a velvety, porridge-like consistency, the fragrant essence of the spirit herbs began to waft through the air. Their aroma was earthy and invigorating, carrying faint notes of sweetness and spice. It was a humble dish, but one that filled the small clearing with a sense of warmth and comfort.
After a few more minutes of simmering, Kai gave the congee a final stir with a wooden spoon, ensuring the herbs were evenly distributed. He lifted the spoon to his lips, blowing gently before tasting. The flavor was simple yet satisfying, the salt enhancing the natural notes of the spirit herbs.
As Kai ate the warm, fragrant congee, he felt the subtle yet familiar sensation of qi coursing through his body. The spirit herbs, though low-grade, still carried traces of natural energy, and as he consumed the meal, that energy began to disperse within him.
A gentle warmth spread from his core, flowing outward through his meridians like a slow-moving stream. The qi wasn’t potent enough to bring about any immediate or significant breakthrough, but it was steady and nourishing. He could feel it ever so slightly reinforcing his cultivation, like adding a single drop to a container.
With a satisfied nod, Kai removed the wok from the fire. His spirit herb congee was ready—a meal that, while unassuming, would give him the energy he needed for the day’s labor. He ladled a portion into a small bowl, the steam rising in gentle curls as he settled down to eat. It wasn’t luxurious or extravagant, but to Kai, it was enough.
After finishing his meal, Kai returned to the stove, adding more wood to keep the fire alive. The flames crackled and flared, rekindling their warmth as he prepared for the next task. This time, the congee he would make wasn’t for himself.
He retrieved the clay jar of rice again and began the process anew, boiling water, adding salt, and mixing in the dried spirit herbs. The aroma of the cooking porridge soon filled the clearing once more, rich and invigorating. Once the first batch was ready, he carefully poured it into a large wooden bucket. Without pausing, Kai began another batch, repeating the steps with practiced efficiency.
Bucket after bucket were filled with steaming spirit congee, each one neatly lined up near the stove. By the time he was done, over a dozen buckets stood in a tidy row, their surfaces glistening with condensation from the heat. Kai straightened his back, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow as he inspected his work.
He leaned in, checking the consistency and aroma of each bucket, ensuring everything was just right. After a moment, he gave a satisfied nod. "Good," he said to himself, his voice steady but laced with a hint of pride. "That should be enough to feed everyone."
With that, Kai set about gathering the buckets. He moved carefully, balancing the weight of the hot containers as he loaded them onto a sturdy wooden cart he had built for this purpose.
Kai began pulling the cart along a well-worn path through the trees, the buckets swaying gently with each step. The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, dappling the ground with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Soon he would arrive at his destination and perform his other job and the real reason why he was currently living in this forest.