1: Chapter 1 The Jiang Family

The runner from the Zhou Family dropped off a single token and left, not even stopping for a cup of hot water.

As the courtyard gate slammed shut with a "bang," the wind instantly surged into the room, causing the flame on the lamp to flicker and almost extinguish.

The token was not long, just a thin slip, with a delicate spring pattern carved onto its front.

The material of the token was fine wood; it felt cool to the touch and carried a trace of Spiritual Qi. Its edges were polished smooth and even—at a glance, one could tell it was not something a Cold Household like theirs could carve themselves.

"Chengning?" Lin Suwen called out from inside the room.

"I'm back."

Jiang Chengning replied, lifted the curtain to enter the room, and placed the wooden token on the table.

The room was small, containing only a wooden table and a black pot. In the west room slept his mother and two young nephews, while the east wing was crowded with several women and children of the family.

On the surface, the Jiang Family had seventeen members, but tonight, only these few were able to sit at the table to talk.

Lin Suwen turned back from the stove, and upon seeing the token, her face turned a shade paler.

"How many?"

Jiang Chengning didn't speak. He pressed his hand onto the token for a long while before saying, "Only one."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Duansang Ridge was not the Jiang Family's mountain. This place belonged to the Zhou Family.

The Jiang Family were merely Cold Households borrowing the mountain, making a living by guarding several mulberry fields, hillside plots, and water sources at the foot of the mountain for the Zhou Family. The Spring Well was in the hands of the Zhou Family. On the day of the Start of Spring, the Zhou Family would open Fenchun Terrace at the foot of the mountain, and each Cold Household would use their Fenchun tokens to ascend the terrace and Inherit Spring.

The so-called Inheriting Spring meant receiving the Public Spring condensed from the Spring Well.

Cultivation in this world took the four seasons as its foundation.

The people of Duansang Ridge mainly practiced Spring techniques, drawing Spring Qi into the Dao; once successful, they achieved Qi Refining. The Public Spring referred to the Qi cultivated by Cultivators using spiritual objects belonging to the corresponding season, which was often much milder.

But even so, the number of people who could successfully Inherit Qi into the Dao each year did not exceed thirty percent.

If one failed, they wouldn't necessarily die, but that year would be wasted in vain.

For a Cold Household like the Jiang Family, the greatest fear was not wasting a year. It was failing to produce a single success.

The Zhou Family's rule was clear: if a Cold Household did not have even one registered Qi Refining practitioner, they would not be allowed to live on the mountain the following year. They would have to return the contracted mountain the next day and get out.

Last year, the Jiang Family still had Jiang Chengpu holding things up. Jiang Chengpu was Jiang Chengning's younger brother and the Jiang Family's previous Qi Refining practitioner.

But after spring last year, Duansang Ravine collapsed once, and Jiang Chengpu died in the ravine; his body was only recovered from the black mud the next day. Since then, the Jiang Family had been holding their breath.

If they failed again this year, the entire Jiang Family would be finished.

Jiang Xingchuan was the first to speak: "Give it to me."

He was eighteen, his shoulders and back had broadened, and his hands were rougher than those of his peers. He was always the one at the forefront when entering the mountains or carrying firewood. Even now, crouching by the door, holding an unsharpened knife, he looked like a weapon ready to be unsheathed.

"If the family really needs to produce a Qi Refining practitioner first, it should be me."

Lin Suwen did not immediately respond, only glancing at her eldest son. Jiang Chengning did not nod either, his hand still pressing on the token.

"There is only one token," he said. "Whoever gets the token is the one who goes up to Fenchun Terrace tomorrow. If they fail to catch it, the whole family will be finished."

"Then it should definitely be given to me," Jiang Xingchuan said. "If I succeed, at least I can still shoulder the burdens."

This was not wrong. What the Jiang Family lacked right now was not an idle Cultivator who could sit and breathe, but someone who, after succeeding in cultivation, could shelter the family from the wind and rain.

But just then, Jiang Yuhe spoke up. "If we are talking about stability, I should be the one to go."

Her voice was not loud, yet everyone in the room looked at her. Jiang Yuhe was sixteen this year and usually didn't speak much; for her to speak up at this moment meant this wasn't just a whim.

"Fenchun Terrace is for Inheriting Public Spring," she said. "The Public Spring is stable, and the path is stable. Whoever can better follow the 'Inheriting Spring Guide' to guide this Spring step by step will be more likely to succeed."

"Brother's bones are tough; if he were to go snatch the Wild Spring in the mountains, I would trust him. But on Fenchun Terrace, he might not be as steady as I am."

Jiang Xingchuan frowned and looked up at her. "Are you trying to compete with me?"

"It's not competition," Jiang Yuhe said, closing the clan history in her hand. "The family only has this one stable path left; we cannot use it to gamble."

The room fell silent. Jiang Shoushan, who had been leaning against the wall, finally stood up straight. "Fenchun Terrace is not the only path."

Jiang Chengning looked up at him. Jiang Shoushan said: "I returned from the southeast today, and when I passed Duansang Ravine, I heard the Spring frogs croaking early."

As soon as these words were spoken, the hand Lin Suwen used to hold the ladle paused. The three words "Duansang Ravine" were not just a place name in this Jiang Family room.

Ten years ago, that place was struck by lightning and fire; half of the ravine mouth collapsed, and the bottom was filled with black mud and burnt, broken old mulberry roots. Later, as the Spring vein weakened, the place slowly died. The Zhou Family's mountain patrollers felt that there was no longer any spiritual energy there and couldn't be bothered to walk inside.

More importantly, the last time Jiang Chengpu left the house, he also said he was going to Duansang Ravine. What was carried back later was his corpse.

"Spring frogs croaking indiscriminately doesn't mean much," Jiang Xingchuan said.

"It wasn't just one or two," Jiang Shoushan shook his head. "A whole patch was calling out. That place hasn't had any activity in ten years; if something hadn't truly turned up from underneath, it wouldn't be like this."

Jiang Yuhe didn't speak, only flipped the clan history in her hand to the back and pointed to a page of old, yellowed paper at the edge for Jiang Chengning to see.

"The clan history records that Duansang Ravine used to have Spring flow through it in the past," she said. "Later, it collapsed and slowly became abandoned."

The so-called "Spring flow" meant that Wild Spring had once run underneath. Wild Spring was also Spring, but it was not the Public Spring tamed in the Zhou Family's well; it was the breath that the earth veins in the mountains turned up on their own. It was fierce and violent; if navigated correctly, it might not be worse than the Public Spring, but if navigated incorrectly, it could cripple one's Meridians.

This was also why Cold Households stared at Fenchun Terrace every year and refused to touch the Wild Spring in the mountains casually. The Public Spring was the proper path, while the Wild Spring was gambling with one's life.

Jiang Chengning lowered his head to look at the token, remaining silent. The lamp flame flickered gently.

Just then, the clan history that had been lying open on the table suddenly flipped a page on its own. "Swish—" The sound was very soft.

Yet all five people in the room raised their heads at the same time.

Jiang Xingchuan's hand immediately clamped onto the hilt of his knife. Jiang Shoushan also pushed off the wall, his whole body tensing up. Lin Suwen did not make a sound, only adjusted the lamp to make it brighter.

This clan history was an old heirloom passed down by the Jiang Family's ancestors. Usually, it was like a dead book: its cover was blackened, the edges were severely curled, and most of the inside was blank. But when Jiang Chengning was a child, he had seen it happen once—that year his father died of illness, just as the mourning hall was dismantled, a sentence floated up on its own on a blank page: "In the year of Mid-Spring, Chengshi passed away on a frosty night."

For the next twenty years, it never moved again. Therefore, no one dared to say that this turning tonight was caused by the wind.

The five people stared at that page. On the blank paper surface, a line of characters was slowly emerging from the paper: On the eve of the Start of Spring, Yuhe ascends the terrace, Xingchuan enters the ravine.

Lin Suwen was the first to regain her senses, lowering her voice: "Is this... the ancestors manifesting characters?"

Jiang Shoushan didn't speak, only stared at that line of characters, his brows knitting together bit by bit.

Jiang Xingchuan was stunned for a moment, then took a step forward. "Enter the ravine? Which ravine?"

"Duansang Ravine," Jiang Yuhe answered first. She pointed to the clan history in her hand, her voice still steady. "The clan history records it as Duansang Ravine, and this page also shows 'enter the ravine,' not anywhere else."

Jiang Chengning's gaze lingered on that line of characters for a long time, then fell onto the Fenchun token in his hand, and finally, he slowly pushed the wooden token forward.

"The token, give it to Yuhe."

Jiang Xingchuan opened his mouth, wanting to say something more. Jiang Chengning was already looking at him.

"You are not to go up to Fenchun Terrace," he said. "Tonight, go into Duansang Ravine with Shoushan. If a Spring really turns up in that ravine, it will be worth much more than you going on stage tomorrow to compete with others."

As soon as these words were spoken, the bit of defiance in Jiang Xingchuan's eyes dissipated by more than half.

If the Public Spring on Fenchun Terrace was the proper path that everyone could see, then if there really was a second Spring in Duansang Ravine, it was another path that would allow the Jiang Family not just to survive, but to lift their heads up a little.

Jiang Shoushan stood up a bit straighter. "Duansang Ravine hasn't been walked in ten years."

"Precisely because it hasn't been walked in ten years, there might still be something there," Jiang Chengning said.

Lin Suwen didn't try to persuade them further, only rose and walked to the cabinet, digging out a medicine pouch the size of a palm, and placed a short knife and half a length of hemp rope on the table.

"Duansang Ravine is damp and has a lot of black mud; if there really is Spring, nine times out of ten, something is guarding it." She pushed the medicine pouch to Jiang Shoushan. "If you encounter snakes or insects, sprinkle this first; don't step on them blindly."

After speaking, she looked at Jiang Xingchuan again. "If you really find Spring, don't swallow it in one gulp."

Jiang Xingchuan replied, "I know." But the intensity in his eyes hadn't been suppressed in the slightest.

The lamp flame flickered gently. No one noticed that at the very bottom of that page of the clan history where the characters had appeared, right in the center, the cyan jade small seal script character "Hope" also lit up, very, very faintly, on this night. It was like an eye that had been closed all this time, finally opening a slit.