Lin Yuanfeng had not expected he would face Yao beast this soon.
While he kept his head down, scanning the undergrowth, searching for herbs, for any trace of Spirit Orchid or Vein-Nurturing Moss. Every step was careful, deliberate. Every breath measured.
Yet in his focus, he missed it.
The claw marks etched high into the trees—two meters above the ground—went unnoticed. Deep grooves carved into bark marked the territory of a powerful resident: a Grade 1 early-stage Yao beast known locally as the Iron Paw Spirit Bear. A warning, etched in nature, but invisible to someone who looked only downward for herbs.
Lin Yuan froze when he finally heard the low rumble, a vibration that travelled through the forest floor. His heart skipped. He slowly turned his head to the back.
A hulking shadow emerged from the foliage. The bear. Massive. 3 meters tall. Fur like iron plates, claws like curved daggers, eyes glowing faint red with spiritual energy. Though a Grade 1 early-stage Yao beast, its beast dwarfed his human body.
Its raw physical strength far surpassed that of a human spiritual farmer.
One strike, one careless movement, and he would be gone.
There was no room for panic. Only movement.
He immediately darted behind a tree, but the Iron Paw swung a massive limb-- wood splintering and sending bark flying as the tree shattered into pieces. He rolled just in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed. The ground quaked with every strike, the air thickened with the bear's roaring fury, as if the forest itself trembled at the creature's wrath
Lin Yuan's mind raced. He had no combat skills. He had no cultivation techniques beyond a mere spiritual farmer's basics. One mistake would mean death.
But he did have wisdom, agility, and his preparations.
He gripped one of the porcelain bottles and focused his spirit qi. The juice inside hissed and fumed, turning into a dense, irritating (for beasts) mist. He tossed it toward the bear. The air filled with pungent scent, stinging its eyes, confusing it, and masking his position. The bear roared, swiping blindly at the mist, its movements slowed, frustrated.
Lin Yuan didn't pause. He kept moving, weaving between trees, drawing the bear toward a pit he had noticed earlier while escaping the bear attacks, an old trap dug by hunters nearby. Each time the bear lunged, he sidestepped, let the mist sting its eyes, let its anger guide it.
When the beast neared the pit, Lin Yuan swiftly slipped behind it, picked up stones from the forest floor, and hurled them at its head. The first few struck hard, making it stumble and fall into the pit.
Boom.
It crashed down but was barely injured because its thick skin could withstand even a low-tier weapon without suffering serious harm.
Then it quickly stood up and it began to climb, roaring with madness, its iron paws digging into the dirt walls while roaring at him with madness, but with precise timing, he threw the remaining porcelain bottle directly into its mouth when it let its guard down. The bottle was crushed, pungent fumes choked it, blurred its vision, and the Iron Paw staggered, reeling backward into the pit.
Boom.
This time, it couldn't withstand the intense irritation and choking mist. It retched, its roar turning hoarse and strained.
Its red eyes glared upward, teeth bared, fury unmatched. But the trap held
Lin Yuan exhaled briefly but did not linger. He dashed in the direction the bear had come from, searching for its dwelling. From what he remembered about the Yao beasts in this life memories, it might have stored spiritual herbs and valuable items in its cave for future use.
After some time, he found a rock cave entrance littered with bones. Inside, the bear had stored its spoils. Lin Yuan searched quickly, heart racing. He found two storage pouches—it seemed the bear had emptied its usual supplies and gone out to hunt. One pouch had a one cubic-meter space, but the other was different—crafted with a beautiful symbol, possibly from a nearby sect, with five cubic meters of space.
Inside the second pouch, he found a 1st-tier, low-grade sword, a 1st-tier medium talisman capable of striking from a distance, a sect token (though he didn't recognize it), forty spirit stones, some spiritual fruits, and medicine pills.
"This talisman can kill that bear," he thought. "But it will take a toll on my body, but I can't let this chance slip."
Without wasting time, he rushed back toward the pit, killing intent gleaming in his eyes.
His pulse hammered as he reached the edge. The Iron Paw was awake, but still groggy. He readied the talisman, loaded it with his spirit qi, and simultaneously replenished himself using spirit stones.
Waiting for the right moment.
The bear tried to climb once more.
Lin Yuan launched the talisman at its head.
Crack.
A thin sharp sword light passed through its head.
The Iron Paw fell, lifeless. Its final roar echoed through the forest.
He exhaled, trembling, but there was no time to rest. He climbed into the pit and began retrieving valuable components. Using the low-tier sword, he cut off the bear's iron paws, then opened its chest to find a small red metallic core--about the size of a golf ball. He carefully stored everything in the pouches.
Then he darted out of the forest.
His heart was still racing, but a small smile tugged at his lips.
The forest no longer seemed as terrifying. He had survived. He had gained resources.
And most importantly, he had taken a step closer to saving his parents
He stayed vigilant until he reached the Qing Shui outer city gate. Every movement was cautious--he could not risk being robbed again.
Back in Qing Shui Town, he sold the Spirit Orchid to Jin Shang's shop and got 15 spirit stones. With his total now at 54 spirit stones, he went straight to the medicine hall.
He purchased:
Two bottles of medicine pills for 20 spirit stones -- enough for his parents' wounds and injuries.
Ten catties of low-tier Yao beast meat for 10 stones -- enough for a few days of nourishment during their recovery.
Standing outside the market, holding the pouch that was safely secured under his robe which contained the precious medicine bottles, he finally allowed himself a breath of relief.
Lin Yuan, sword in hand, and started heading home.
Every step carried not only weight—but hope.