Three days passed in Willow Leaf Village like any other — wind, dust, and the endless struggle for the next meal.
Xiao Chen continued his routine: rise early, dig roots on the hill, return before the midday heat became unbearable.
The black rune mark on his chest no longer caused pain, but sometimes, when he sat quietly beneath the willow, he felt a faint warmth there — like a tiny ember buried deep in ice.
He told no one. Who would believe the village orphan had found a strange bead that vanished into his body?
On the fourth morning, as he walked past the village square, he noticed an unusual crowd gathered around the single tea stall.
An old traveling merchant, face weathered like cracked leather, sat on a stool telling stories to wide-eyed villagers. Such visitors were rare — perhaps once every few months — and always brought news from the county town fifty li away.
Xiao Chen paused at the edge of the crowd.
The merchant's voice was loud and dramatic.
"…and I tell you, it's true! Three years from now, immortals from the Azure Cloud Realm will descend to our Yellow Dust Star! They're seeking young ones with spirit roots to take back as disciples!"
Gasps rippled through the listeners.
Old Lady Wang clutched her chest. "Immortals? Coming here?"
The merchant nodded sagely. "Every hundred years, the great sects recruit from mortal worlds. Last time was a century ago — a boy from Black Rock Village was taken and became an outer disciple! Now his family lives in luxury from the gold he sends back."
Little Fatty pushed forward excitedly. "What are spirit roots? How do we know if we have them?"
"The immortals have a crystal orb," the merchant explained. "You place your hand on it, and if light shines — red, orange, yellow, green, blue — any color means talent! The brighter and purer, the better. Five elemental roots, or rare variant roots like thunder or wind… those are heavenly geniuses!"
Zhao Hu puffed out his chest. "I'll definitely awaken a fire root! I've always felt hot-blooded!"
Laughter and agreement followed.
Qing Lian stood near the back, listening quietly with her younger brother on her hip.
Her eyes, however, found Xiao Chen across the crowd.
She smiled and nodded slightly.
He nodded back, then slipped away before anyone noticed.
Later that afternoon, as he dug roots behind the willow tree, footsteps approached.
"Chen-ge."
Qing Lian appeared, carrying a small cloth bundle.
He stood quickly, brushing dirt from his hands. "Qing Lian? What brings you up here?"
She held out the bundle. "My mother steamed some corn cakes this morning. She said to bring you a few… in case you get hungry digging."
He hesitated, then accepted it. "Thank you. And thank Auntie for me."
They sat side by side beneath the willow, sharing the warm cakes in comfortable silence for a while.
Finally, Qing Lian spoke softly.
"Do you believe the merchant's story? About the immortals coming?"
Xiao Chen chewed slowly before answering.
"I don't know. But… if it's true, it would be a chance to leave this place. To see the bigger world you talked about."
She turned to him, eyes bright with hope.
"Then you'll test when they come?"
He smiled faintly. "If they really come, yes. Though a trash like me probably has no spirit root at all."
"Don't say that," she said firmly. "You're kind and hardworking. If immortals are wise, they'll see that."
He looked at her, surprised by the conviction in her voice.
"And you?" he asked. "Will you test too?"
She nodded without hesitation. "I want to see what's beyond the yellow dust. And… I promised my little brother I'd find a way to cure his weak lungs one day. Maybe immortal medicine can do that."
Xiao Chen's gaze softened. "Then let's both test. If even one of us is chosen, we can help the other."
She laughed lightly. "It's a promise, then."
A gentle breeze rustled the willow leaves above them.
Neither noticed the faint black rune on Xiao Chen's chest glowing subtly — absorbing another thin strand of spiritual energy from the air.
Far away, in the county town, a young man in fine brocade robes listened to the same merchant's tale in a lavish inn.
His name was Li Wei — son of the county magistrate, seventeen years old, already engaged to the prettiest girl in town.
But lately, his thoughts had drifted to another face: the quiet, clear-eyed girl from Willow Leaf Village he'd seen during last year's tax collection.
Qing Lian.
"She'll be fifteen soon," he murmured to himself, swirling wine in his cup. "A perfect age for betrothal. Father can arrange it easily."
He smiled confidently.
After all, who in a poor village could refuse the magistrate's son?
The sun began to set, painting the yellow plains in blood-red light.
Xiao Chen walked Qing Lian halfway home before turning back.
As night fell, he lay on his straw mat, staring at the dark ceiling.
For the first time in years, a small spark of hope flickered in his heart.
"Three years…" he whispered to the empty hut. "If immortals really come…"
Deep within his chest, the Primordial Chaos Bead pulsed again — stronger this time.
The Dual Paths stirred in their ancient slumber.
He only closed his eyes and, for the first time, dreamed not of hunger or cold, but of flying above the clouds.