Lauren’s first test had shown she possessed three spiritual roots. But her comprehension was exceptional. On her very first night of cultivation, she sensed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, shocking her entire family into treasuring her as if she were a rare gem.
Now, with the Heavenly-grade manual in her hands, she quickly realized how different its methods were from the ones she had practiced before.
In the past, she had focused on her three roots—earth, wood, and water—painstakingly trying to pull those three elements from the chaos of the five. She worked tirelessly, absorbing large amounts of energy, yet only a trickle remained within her, leaving her progress agonizingly slow.
But this new method was revolutionary. She no longer had to hunt for specific elements. The five were bound by laws of generation and destruction, and whatever energy she drew in would be refined into the exact type she required.
All she had to do was establish the link between her immortal root and the surrounding qi. The moment she did, it was as if lightning had struck—her immortal root blazed to life, greedily sucking in spiritual energy from all directions.
Before long, it was brimming with power. Lauren guided the flow into her meridians, circulating it through her body in a full Grand Circulation.
And just like that, everything changed.
She no longer needed to toil for scraps; her immortal root itself absorbed the qi ceaselessly, automatically, until full. Her only task was to refine that raw energy into her own spiritual power, nourishing her meridians. It seemed like a small change—skipping a single step—but in truth it multiplied her speed not by two, but by ten.
Ten times faster than an ordinary cultivator.
Mistvale was a land poor in spiritual energy. Many people here never even touched the Foundation Establishment stage in their entire lives. Lauren had only three years before she left. Every hour mattered.
For three days she shut herself away, cultivating without pause.
On the third day, Flower Wife could wait no longer. She shoved the door open, her face lined with worry. “Lauren.”
Lauren opened her eyes and smiled faintly. “Grandma.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Lauren said, her voice bright. “This technique is amazing. Practicing it doesn’t tire me out at all.”
Flower Wife let out a long breath of relief. “That’s good. But even if it feels easy, you can’t overdo it. You’re still young.”
“Okay, Grandma. I’ll listen.”
“Come on. Walk with me. Stretch your legs, see the world a little.”
Lauren rose, but after only two steps her knees buckled. She nearly collapsed.
She was starving. Three days without food had caught up with her.
Flower Wife caught her and chuckled softly. “See? You’re still too young to push yourself like this. Here—drink.”
She pulled a small jade bottle from her sleeve. The moment Lauren uncorked it, a sweet fragrance filled the air.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Flower Wife was famous for her flowers, but it wasn’t just gardening—she could distill potent extracts from their petals. Her brews were as effective as medicinal pills.
Lauren tipped the liquid down in a single gulp. Sweetness spread across her tongue, and warmth filled her belly. The dizziness vanished instantly.
“I’m not hungry anymore. And I’m not dizzy, either. Grandma, this is delicious!”
Flower Wife laughed, pleased. “There’s no food here, so you’ll have to rely on this. One sip of floral dew can keep you fed for ten days.”
Lauren froze, staring at the bottle in her hand.
Of the eight residents of the valley, there were still three Lauren hadn’t met.
The first was Tyler, an alchemist obsessed with elixirs. He was rarely seen, always holed up in his den brewing concoctions. Unfortunately, his research had long since strayed from the righteous path. His specialty was poison. Once, in testing an elixir, he turned an entire city into bloodthirsty monsters. Hunted and hated, he’d fled here to Sky-Covering Valley.
The other two were a formation master and a weapon refiner. Their roots went back further than anyone else’s, and no one knew why they had ended up here—or what they might have done outside.
Usually these three kept to themselves. But today, for the sake of the newcomer, they all showed their faces.
Flower Wife, beaming with pride, pulled Lauren forward. “This is my granddaughter, Lauren. Please take good care of her.”
Tyler barely glanced at her. With obvious impatience, he tossed over a storage pouch and stalked off without a word.
Lauren didn’t even have time to thank him.
Flower Wife spat after him. “As if my granddaughter would dare eat whatever you’ve brewed. You’d probably turn her into a monster.”
Still grumbling, she untied the pouch and peeked inside. Her expression shifted at once—shock, then delight.
“Lauren, this is good stuff. Keep it.”
The formation master and the refiner came forward together. They offered brief greetings, then disappeared again like ghosts.
The truth was, no one here cared about Lauren. Only Flower Wife was genuinely excited.
She curled her lip. “Ignore them. A bunch of weirdos. Come on—I’ll take you to see the flowers Grandma planted, and tell you a bit about how things work here.”
Lauren already knew more than she let on. She had read enough stories to understand the rules of this place.
No one here liked outsiders. Whether you stumbled in by accident or fled here to escape something, survival depended on strength. If you weren’t strong, you’d end up as meat on someone’s table.
When Indiana, another woman, had first entered the valley, she’d barely escaped being eaten by the Butcher. Only Flower Wife had intervened to save her.
“Lauren,” Flower Wife warned, her voice sharp, “there may not be many people in this valley, but you mustn’t wander too far from me. Especially not near that Butcher. If he loses control and hurts you, I…” Her voice caught. “I’d never forgive myself.”
“I’ll remember, Grandma.”
So Lauren settled into valley life. She spent her days training behind closed doors, and when she wasn’t practicing, Flower Wife took her out among the flowers, teaching her how to tend them.
Flower Wife belonged to a demonic sect, and she couldn’t share its cultivation techniques. But gardening—that she could pass on.
Three years slipped by. In this barren valley, starved of qi, Lauren still managed to push her way to the tenth level of Qi Training.
She could go no further. The great sects only accepted disciples between the ages of six and fifteen, and only those below Foundation Establishment. At thirteen, Lauren stood at her peak—no longer a child, but a young woman in full bloom.
The valley’s other residents remained unchanged.
Master Light still radiated like a Buddha descended to earth, all benevolence on the surface, all menace beneath.
His disciple Viper still scowled, still drooled whenever Butcher tore into his meat.
Devourer lived as always, tending his tiny fields with the patience of a farmer. Though he had long since stopped eating, he still cooked meals faithfully, grinding rice by hand.
And somehow, in this place with no sun, flowers and crops continued to grow.
The other three were still lost in their obsessions, surfacing only rarely.
Then, one day, the valley itself trembled.
Devourer was pounding rice, and Flower Wife and Lauren were bent over a patch of blossoms, when the sky tore open above them.
A gaping rift split the heavens, and a single ray of sunlight pierced through.
Gasps rose from every throat.
“What’s that? Look—what is that?”
“Light… actual sunlight? Am I losing my mind?”
Sky-Covering Valley—its name alone was proof. The sky here had been sealed for as long as anyone remembered. How could there be sunlight?
“Amitabha,” Master Light intoned, pressing his palms together. His golden face turned upward toward the crack, and his smile was radiant. “The seal has loosened.”
And with that, his figure blurred into a streak of light and soared skyward.
