Lin Yun was startled by a gentle, aged voice behind him. He turned to see an old man with a kind, weathered face and eyes that held a deep, earthy wisdom. He was dressed in simple robes stained with soil at the knees.
The memories surfaced instantly. This was Lin Fu, the keeper of the Lin Clan's main medicine garden. He was a kind soul, not a direct blood relative but a distant clansman who had served the family his entire life.
When Lin Yun was very young, before the pressures of cultivation and comparisons to his siblings began, Lin Fu would often sneak him into the garden, letting him play among the strange, glowing plants.
A genuine, unforced smile touched Lin Yun's lips. "Uncle Fu. It's good to see you. How have you been?"
Lin Fu's bushy white eyebrows rose in clear surprise. He looked at Lin Yun as if seeing him for the first time. A slow, deep laugh rumbled in his chest.
"Well, well. It seems going to the academy has changed our Third Young Master. You've... matured."
Lin Yun chuckled internally. He knew the original owner, wrapped up in his own insecurities, would have barely acknowledged the old gardener, let alone asked after his well-being.
"I suppose I have learned a few things there," he replied diplomatically.
"Couldn't sleep?" Lin Fu asked, his tone gentle.
"I missed home," Lin Yun said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "I just wanted to stroll around and see the place." He paused, seeing an opportunity. "Uncle Fu, would it be alright if I visited the medicine garden? For old times' sake?"
Lin Fu's laughter was warm and full. "Young Master, you are the Third Young Master of the Lin Clan! How could you not be allowed to visit the garden? This old man would be honored to show you. Come, come!"
Lin Yun followed the spry old man away from the main residential areas, down a path that sloped gently into a sheltered valley. As they approached, the air itself began to change. It grew thicker, richer, saturated with a vitality that made every breath feel nourishing. The spiritual energy here was denser than anywhere else he'd been in the manor.
There were no visible walls or barriers, but Lin Yun's senses, heightened by his cultivation and the system, tingled with warning. He couldn't see them with his naked eye, but he knew powerful concealment and defensive formations were woven into the very fabric of the space, protecting the clan's most precious botanical assets.
Stepping into the garden proper was like entering another world. It was vast, terraced slopes overflowing with plants of every imaginable color and shape. Some glowed with a soft inner light, others shimmered with dew that looked like liquid moonlight, and a few seemed to pulse slowly, as if breathing.
He activated his Heavenly Eyes. A golden overlay descended, and information began to scroll.
[Frost-veined Leaf - Quality: Excellent]
[Firebell Root - Quality: Superior]
[Spirit-chalk Stone - Quality: Pure]
The herbs here were the same varieties he had used hours before, but their quality was in a different league altogether. The spiritual energy within them was vibrant and potent. This was the difference between mass-produced ingredients and those lovingly cultivated in a perfect environment.
As they walked deeper, he began to see plants he didn't recognize. He focused his Heavenly Eyes on a flower whose petals constantly shifted between blue and silver.
[Target exceeds current skill level. Unable to analyze.]
He tried on a small, tree-like plant that seemed to be made of crystalline amber.
[Target exceeds current skill level. Unable to analyze.]
A flicker of frustration, followed by resolve, passed through him. His skill was still too low. There were treasures here he couldn't even begin to comprehend. He filed the information away; leveling his Heavenly Eyes was now an even higher priority.
After a comfortable silence spent walking through the wondrous rows, Lin Yun decided to take a chance. Lin Fu was old, knowledgeable, and had no apparent agenda.
"Uncle Fu," he began, his tone thoughtful. "I've been thinking... about my... limitations. Is there truly no way to improve one's innate aptitude?"
Lin Fu stopped walking, his kind eyes studying Lin Yun with a new depth. He stroked his long, white beard, the gesture slow and deliberate.
"There are ways, Young Master," he said, his voice dropping to a more confidential tone. "But the path is fraught with difficulty. Truth be told, our current Lin Clan does not possess the means."
He gestured to the magnificent garden around them. "We can grow herbs that heal wounds, replenish energy, and even aid breakthroughs. But to change the very foundation a person is born with? That is the realm of legend."
He leaned closer. "There are pills, they say. A Spirit Root Washing Pill can cleanse the dross from one's spiritual root, potentially elevating its grade. A Meridian Unlocking Pill can force open acupoints that have been sealed since birth, even the hidden ones. And a Soul Nourishing Pill can directly temper and expand one's sea of consciousness, strengthening mental power."
Lin Yun's heart beat faster. The names were exactly as they were in the game. The logic was consistent.
"But," Lin Fu's voice became a near-whisper, "the recipes for such divine pills... they are secrets that can overturn continents. No one who possesses them would ever share. They are guarded more fiercely than any treasure, by sects and powers we cannot even imagine. To own such a recipe is to hold a key to shaping the future of the world itself. It would inevitably... cause a bloodbath."
The old gardener looked at Lin Yun, his expression a mix of sympathy and solemn warning. "Do not fixate on such impossibilities, Young Master. It is a quick path to despair. Nurture what you have. That is the only true path."
Lin Yun nodded slowly, as if absorbing the wise advice. "I understand. Thank you, Uncle Fu."
But internally, his mind was racing. The methods existed. The pills were real. And while the Lin Clan might not have the recipes, his system's Market—if it was the one he knew—just might.