The decision to journey to Green River City, to seek out Grandmaster Liu Mingyuan with nothing but a fragile plan and the uncertain promise of the Moonpetal Leaf's unique properties, ushered in a sharper, more sobering tension within the Azurewood Lin Clan. No longer was this a matter of cautious defense or subtle survival within the borders of their familiar but treacherous hills. This was Lu Chenyuan stepping into a much wider, far more perilous game — one where the players wielded influence and power that dwarfed his own, where the rules shifted like mist, and where a single misstep might spell the utter ruin of everything they had fought to preserve.
Preparations for the journey were carried out in near-paranoid secrecy. Every aspect was planned down to the smallest detail. Every contingency was measured, reevaluated, and prepared for. The clan's final twenty spirit stones were set aside for his travel expenses — a meager amount for such a long, hazardous trip, but it was the best they could afford. One of their three remaining Standard Grade Qi Nourishing Pills would go with him as an emergency reserve. The other two pills, along with the last fifteen spirit stones, were hidden beneath loose stones in the courtyard garden — a final safety net for Shen Yue and Uncle Liu should the worst happen.
"You must appear ordinary," Lu Chenyuan told Uncle Liu, who would serve as their quiet tether to Serpent's End in his absence. "You'll be the one handling messages, but you must do so under the guise of a wandering cultivator or trader. Ask about mundane goods, speak only when necessary. Act like someone insignificant."
"Shadow Hand Xue's agents are everywhere. If they sense anything amiss — a glimmer of desperation, a hint of a plan — they'll dig until they find something. We can't afford that."
Uncle Liu, his face worn and lined by years of hardship, gave a heavy nod. "Understood, Young Master. I will be as unremarkable as a pebble in the river."
The most delicate part of their preparations was harvesting the essence from the Moonpetal Leaf itself. The plant had grown beautifully, now crowned with fifteen crescent-shaped, softly luminous leaves. It was their greatest treasure, the heart of all their hopes — harming it, even slightly, felt like sacrilege.
"The system's insights suggest," Lu Chenyuan explained one evening as he and Shen Yue stood in the concealed corner of their compound where the plant was nurtured, "that the purest essence accumulates like dew at the tip of the most mature leaf, just before dawn. It's not something we force — it's a natural outflow. We'll try to collect it carefully. One drop. No more."
For three nights in a row, Shen Yue, now firmly rooted in the mid-stage of the Third Layer, channeled her purest Wood Spirit Qi into the Moonpetal Leaf. Her bond with the plant had deepened — she could almost feel its silent response to her presence, a gentle harmony thrumming through her being. Lu Chenyuan kept watch beside her, his senses alert to the slightest shift in wind or sound. The weight of their plan hung between them like an unsheathed blade. Her Spiritual Root awakening had now reached 78%. The Clan Prosperity Meter crept up to 77/100 — small gains, but hard-won and deeply significant.
Then, on the third morning, as the first whisper of light brushed the mountaintops, they saw it — a single, shimmering droplet clinging to the tip of the largest, brightest Moonpetal Leaf. It was barely the size of a pinhead, yet it seemed to glow from within, holding a depth of calm, radiant Wood Qi that was more vibrant than the plant itself. A distilled fragment of life, moonlight, and purity.
[System Notification: Host and Wife Shen Yue have successfully collected one drop of 'Moonpetal Heart Dew' (Grade Two - High Purity Essence). Sample suitable for demonstrating unique Qi-harmonizing and mental clarity properties. Minimal impact on Moonpetal Leaf health if collection is infrequent and plant is well-nurtured.]
"A single drop…" Shen Yue whispered, awe etched into every syllable. Her eyes shimmered with reverence. "It feels… alive. Chenyuan, it's so strong."
His hands, usually so steady, trembled slightly as he reached into his robes and retrieved a sliver of polished jade — a shard from a broken hairpin once belonging to his predecessor's mother, now refined and sanctified for this one task. He gently lifted the droplet and transferred it into the smallest, most secure vial he owned — a porcelain tube no larger than his thumb, sealed with melted beeswax.
This drop was everything. His key, his wager, his voice in a world that might otherwise never listen.
The morning of his departure arrived shrouded in mist and silence. Lu Chenyuan dressed in plain, travel-worn robes — their coarse weave intentionally frayed, their once-white fabric dulled by time. His appearance was carefully cultivated: that of a struggling itinerant cultivator with little to his name.
His cloth sack contained just a few changes of clothes, the twenty spirit stones, one Qi Nourishing Pill, a small pouch of dried spiritual millet, and the Moonpetal Heart Dew vial concealed within a false bottom he'd crafted himself. His only weapon was a chipped utility knife tucked into his belt — more tool than blade, but it would have to suffice.
The courtyard was quiet in the pre-dawn gloom. Uncle Liu approached first. His eyes were bright, too bright, and he took Lu Chenyuan's hand in both of his, gripping it tightly.
"Be safe, Young Master," he murmured. "Return to us. The ancestors watch over you. We… we all do."
Then came Shen Yue.
She stood before him with her usual quiet grace, but her composure wavered. Her eyes lingered on the worn collar of his robe, and she reached up to adjust it gently, her fingertips brushing the skin of his neck. A small, tender gesture — yet it carried a world of unspoken fear and longing.
"Chenyuan…" Her voice caught. She steadied herself. "This journey… it's more dangerous than anything we've faced. You'll have to rely on instinct, on cunning. I know you'll survive. I know you're capable. But—" her voice faltered, just for a moment, "your life is the pillar of this clan. Of our home. Of… my heart."
Her last words came out in a whisper, barely audible.
Lu Chenyuan froze, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in her eyes. In that moment, he saw her fully — not just as the dutiful wife or the disciplined cultivator, not even as the companion in his careful, desperate plans — but as a woman. As Shen Yue. Her emotions laid bare, trembling but sincere.
He lifted a hand and touched her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't even noticed. "I will return," he said, the promise cutting through the morning air. "I'll come back with the means to protect us — to build something lasting. For our clan… for you."
Their eyes held, and in that gaze passed a silent understanding, deeper than words. Something unspoken had begun to bloom between them, tender and fragile, but undeniably real.
Then, with a final nod to Uncle Liu and one last, lingering glance at Shen Yue, Lu Chenyuan turned toward the gate. His figure faded into the mist, a solitary shadow walking into uncertainty. The hopes of a clan, the dreams of a future, and the burden of a single drop of moonlight traveled with him.
The alchemist's gambit had begun.