Darkness... Void... Oblivion...

  "Will... I die here..." Zhi Xuan was dragged further by the water current, his body spinning uncontrollably. "Why..."

  Zhi Xuan's body spun uncontrollably beneath the dark, turbulent water surface. The bone-chilling cold was not the most terrifying thing, but the absolute darkness and the feeling of helplessness as the swift water dragged him, slamming his shoulder against hidden sharp rocks. His lungs felt tight, begging for air.

  "I haven't even found out my origins yet..." his consciousness was fading, he couldn't control himself due to the overly strong current. "Will this be my end..."

  He didn't know how long he had been underwater, but his instinct as a riverside village child, always trained for survival, took over. He did not fight the current; he allowed himself to be dragged, trying to protect his head and chest with both arms. He looked for one thing: light.

  Suddenly, his body was thrust upward. He gasped, gulping the new cold air. He coughed violently, spitting bitter water from his lungs. The river current was still strong, pulling him downstream at a frightening speed.

  "Ming! Tang!" Zhi Xuan shouted, his voice hoarse and barely audible amidst the roar of the water.

  He twisted his head, trying to see in the dense darkness. There were only blurry shadows of trees on both sides of the river. He did not see his two friends.

  Panic threatened to engulf him again, but he forced himself to calm down. Grandfather Wu always taught: "In a swift river, water is your enemy, but also your path out. Seek the edge."

  Zhi Xuan moved his legs, swimming with quick movements, steering himself toward the nearest shadow of the trees. The current felt like a hammering force, but little by little, he managed to reach the riverbank.

  His wet robe felt incredibly heavy, dragging him back into the water. He grasped a tree root sticking out of the muddy ground and pulled himself up, crawling onto the pebbled bank. He lay there, panting, his body shivering violently from the piercing cold.

  "I have to find them," Zhi Xuan muttered, trying to stand up. Every muscle ached, his bones felt bruised.

  He leaned against an ancient tree and tried to listen. There was only the sound of the rushing water. Then, about twenty steps downstream, he heard another sound: a hoarse cough and a quiet sob.

  "Mingling!" Zhi Xuan exclaimed, forcing his legs to run.

  He found Mingling leaning against a large rock slab, his face deathly pale and his soaked hair covered in mud. Mingling was coughing and crying silently, clutching his now soaking wet leather bag tightly.

  "Zhi Xuan!" Mingling sobbed, immediately crawling towards him and hugging him. "I... I thought I was dead! Tang... where is Tang?"

  Zhi Xuan hugged Mingling tightly, giving a little warmth from his own cold body. "Calm down, Ming. We are both safe. I didn't see Tang. But he is strong. He must have made it."

  "He... he must have been carried further. He's the biggest!" Mingling cried again, this time harder.

  "We have to look for him," Zhi Xuan said, pulling Mingling to his feet. "We have to walk along the river. We can't stay here, we'll freeze."

  They both started stumbling along the riverbank. After a few minutes that felt like hours, at a river bend where the current slowed slightly and formed a small whirlpool, they found Tang.

  Tang was lying in the mud, face down, with half his body still in the water. His hunting knife lay beside him. He wasn't moving.

  "Tang!" Mingling yelled, running towards him and dropping down beside him.

  Zhi Xuan immediately followed. He turned Tang's body over. Tang's face, usually full of laughter, was now deathly pale, and there was a long gash on his arm.

  "He's unconscious," Zhi Xuan said, pressing Tang's neck. "But he's breathing! He's breathing, Ming!"

  They worked together, using their remaining strength to drag the large, wet Tang up, away from the water. Zhi Xuan reached into Tang's robe pocket and pulled out Bashan's map, which was now torn and the ink was faded. The Pure Forest Ginseng Tang had harvested was gone. Probably washed away by the water.

  "We can't carry him," Zhi Xuan said, looking at Tang, who was much larger than the two of them. "We need to find shelter. And fire."

  Mingling, who usually only thought about pancakes, now looked focused and afraid.

  "There's a smell... a very strong fish smell here, Zhi. That might mean there's a cove or a pool nearby."

  Zhi Xuan looked around. The smell was indeed strong, the smell of mud and freshwater fish. He pointed to a gap between two large rocks, where there seemed to be a hidden path.

  "Come on. We'll carry him as far as we can, to a drier spot."

  With all their might, the two of them dragged Tang, pulling him inch by inch through the bushes. After a long struggle, they reached the gap and found a small pool formed by the river's swirl, surrounded by large trees. There, under a rock alcove, was a small area that was relatively dry and sheltered.

  They laid Tang down on a pile of dry leaves. Zhi Xuan, despite being cold and exhausted, knew that their work was not finished.

  "I'll look for firewood," Zhi Xuan said. "Ming, you need to press down on Tang's arm wound. Try to find wide leaves to cover his body from the cold."

  Mingling nodded, his eyes filled with new determination. He tore his wet robe to make an emergency bandage and began searching for thick leaves. Zhi Xuan took his staff, which he fortunately still held. He walked into the darkness of the forest, his legs shaking. He had to make a fire, or all three of them would die of cold.

  After a while, Zhi Xuan returned carrying sufficiently dry twigs. Zhi Xuan carefully placed his pile of twigs and dry wood under the rock alcove, beside the unconscious Tang. His fingers were stiff and numb. He saw Mingling crouching, covering Tang's pale body with the thick leaves he had found.

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  "How is the wound?" Zhi Xuan whispered, his voice hoarse.

  Mingling turned, his large, wet eyes glassy. "I've bandaged it as best as I could. The blood stopped, but... his hands are so cold. I need to find more leaves."

  "Wait," Zhi Xuan said. "Fire first." He sat cross-legged in front of the pile of wood, his hand reaching into his wet leather bag for the flint stone. The stone felt cold and slick, but fortunately, the leather scraps inside kept the dry tinder from the moisture.

  Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged in front of the pile of wood, his hand reaching into his wet leather bag for the flint stone. The stone felt cold and slick, but fortunately, the leather scraps inside kept the dry tinder from the moisture. He rubbed the stone with difficulty, his stiff fingers refusing to cooperate. Spark after small spark flew and vanished in the damp air.

  Mingling crawled closer, leaning over the pile of wood, trying to shield the tinder from the night wind. "Come on, Zhi, a little more! We need fire. I can't feel my legs anymore."

  Zhi Xuan grunted, cold sweat beading on his temples even though the air was very cold. He ignored the chill enveloping his body. He focused, mimicking Grandfather Wu's teaching of calmness—the tranquility needed to start a fire in wet conditions. He thought of the warmth of Aunt Lian's hot soup pot, he thought of the one-eyed goat grazing in the sunshine.

  Focus. No cold. No panic.

  He struck the flint stone at a more precise angle, aiming it right at the dry tinder in the center.

  Fssst!

  A large spark flew, penetrating the dry tinder. Thin smoke immediately curled up, followed by a small, trembling orange flame.

  "Fire!" Mingling whispered, relieved. He immediately took the thinnest, driest twigs, placing them over the flame very carefully.

  Zhi Xuan and Mingling worked together, blowing gently and piling the twigs. Slowly but surely, the fire grew, producing the first much-anticipated warmth. The firelight danced on the rock alcove walls, driving away the frightening darkness and revealing Mingling's wet, relieved face, and Tang's pale face in the background.

  "Thank you, Zhi," Mingling said, moving his hands closer to the fire. "You... you saved us."

  "We saved ourselves," Zhi Xuan replied, trying to make his voice sound normal. He turned to Tang. "We have to warm him up. Help me, Ming."

  The two of them laboriously removed Tang's soaked robe. Tang's stout body was now covered in scratches and bruises, but the arrow wound on his shoulder was no longer bleeding. Zhi Xuan smeared a little cold mud he found in the alcove onto Tang's wound—Grandfather Wu's ancient recipe for stopping bleeding.

  "Ming, you need to wring the water out of our robes," Zhi Xuan instructed, his voice back in logical mode. "We need to let them dry a bit, or we won't survive the night."

  Mingling nodded, taking his robe and Zhi Xuan's robe. He began wringing them out at the edge of the small pool, while occasionally glancing at Tang.

  Zhi Xuan sat next to Tang, guarding him. The smell of burning wet wood mixed with the smell of mud and freshwater fish from the pool. The warmth of the fire began to seep into his skin, driving away the dangerous cold.

  "How are we going to go back, Zhi?" Mingling whispered, returning to the fire after finishing wringing the robes. He sat on his knees, his face looking small and worried.

  Zhi Xuan looked at the fire. The fire was their only source of light and hope. "We won't be able to carry him alone. He's too heavy. As soon as dawn breaks, we'll look for a path leading downstream. We must have been dragged very far. Maybe we are already near the border of another village."

  "The border of another village? Northern Village?" Mingling trembled. "They're the ones who shot at us! What if they find us?"

  "They won't search this far," Zhi Xuan said, though he wasn't sure. "They think we are dead, washed away by the swift current. We must hide here until dawn."

  Mingling sighed deeply, leaning on Zhi Xuan's shoulder. The silence returned, broken by the crackling fire and Tang's heavy, slow breathing.

  After a while, Mingling mumbled, "I hope Bashan isn't worried. He'll think we succeeded and are now laughing, eating Ginseng."

  "Bashan must be worried," Zhi Xuan said. "He's not that stupid. He knows we wouldn't come back without showing off." He smiled faintly. "Tomorrow, as soon as dawn breaks, you stay with Tang. I will trace the river, looking for a village. We need to ask for help."

  Mingling shook his head quickly. "No! You can't go alone! What if you meet those hunters? Or a bear?"

  "I'm fast," Zhi Xuan replied, shrugging. "I'll go downstream. Villages are always built along rivers. We just need to find one."

  Mingling hugged his knees, staring blankly into the fire. "I don't want to be left behind. But I also can't leave Tang alone."

  Zhi Xuan patted Mingling's shoulder. "We'll make it, Ming. We've been through worse. We survived the water. We will survive tonight."

  They spent the rest of the night in long silence, taking turns keeping the fire lit and checking on Tang, who remained unconscious. Zhi Xuan, despite his exhaustion, stayed awake, listening to every sound in the forest.

  Morning came like the whisper of an ancient song, the rustling of falling leaves sounded faintly, the warm sunlight penetrating from behind the branches. Zhi Xuan, who had fallen into a deep sleep after last night's exhaustion, slowly woke up to the noisy sounds around him.

  "Oh my god! We won't be able to carry this much, Tang!" Mingling's joyful snort was heard in Zhi Xuan's ears. "This is what they call Breaking Before Rising! Look, I passed out last night and now I've gotten this much blessing."

  Followed by Tang's weak but equally joyful laughter. "I told you, Ming! The risk is worth the reward! We just needed a little broken bone and almost dying, and look!"

  Zhi Xuan immediately opened his eyes, the pain in his body immediately forgotten by pure surprise. Mingling and Tang were conscious. Mingling was crouching beside the rock alcove, his face that was pale last night now beaming, holding a handful of purplish-black roots. Tang, although still looking bruised and his robe dirty, was sitting leaning against the rock wall, his wounded arm loosely tied with a bandage torn from Mingling's robe. At his feet lay three large clusters of Pure Forest Ginseng!

  "Tang! Ming! You... you're awake?" Zhi Xuan exclaimed, quickly getting up.

  "Zhi Xuan!" Tang greeted, smiling broadly. "Look! I said, destruction is the beginning of blessing! As soon as the sun rose, all this appeared around us!"

  Mingling nodded enthusiastically, pointing around the small pool. "At night, the cliff crevices and the gaps between these tree roots were very dark and covered with moss. But as soon as the light of dawn touched them, all these Ginseng glowed, Zhi! They... they're like lost, mutated water mushrooms!"

  Zhi Xuan looked around. In every rock crevice around the hidden small pool, under the protection of the shadows of ancient tree roots, grew small plants with purplish-black, broken heart-shaped leaves. They found not just three clusters, but at least thirteen clusters of Pure Forest Ginseng!

  "This is impossible..." Zhi Xuan whispered, approaching the Ginseng. He couldn't believe it. What kind of luck was this? He remembered last night, the darkness blinding them. Pure Forest Ginseng is a shadow plant; it only blooms and shows its essence at the transition of dawn light. They had been stranded in a secret resting place unknown to any hunter.

  "We ate some, Zhi!" Tang said, proudly. He took one of the smallest Ginseng and bit the thick root. His face immediately wrinkled from the extreme bitterness, but he swallowed it. "I... I ate two! I know I'm crazy, but I wanted to see if the Ginseng could heal my arrow wound!"

  Mingling elbowed Tang. "Don't listen to him! He's greedy! I only ate the smallest half, and... and I feel much warmer! The cold is gone! And Tang... his wound is improving quickly!"

  Zhi Xuan stared at Tang's arm. The gash on his shoulder, which looked red and bloody last night, had now dried and was barely visible.

  "See! I told you! Pure Forest Ginseng can make my steps feel like flying!" Tang exclaimed, trying to stand up. He stumbled a little, but then he walked steadily. "I'm not hurt anymore, Zhi! Just a few bruises. I can't believe this! We're going to be Divine Wheel masters!"

  Mingling let out a sly grin. "Now, with all this, we don't have to be afraid of the Northern Village hunters. We can make our entire village Divine Wheel masters! We have to bring it all!" Mingling took Tang's wet leather bag and started carefully collecting the Ginseng.

  Zhi Xuan just stood there, observing the Pure Forest Ginseng that was now faintly glowing under the morning sun. The wheel in his chest spun faster. The familiar cold feeling was now mixed with an unbearable hunger. It was a hunger that could only be satisfied by an essence stronger than Pure Forest Ginseng.

  "Tang, Ming," Zhi Xuan said, his voice returning to cold calmness. "You two are completely insane. But... this is a treasure. We have to get out of here immediately, before those hunters realize our existence."

  Zhi Xuan walked closer to the pile of Ginseng, grabbing the largest and darkest root. He didn't chew it like Tang; he stared at the fetus-like root, and swallowed it whole, driven by his new instinct.