Chapter 15: Gathering Spirit Herbs, Reaping Mountain Treasures!

Zhang Hao took a sharp breath of the mountain forest air. The fresh scent passed through his nostrils into his lungs, then he exhaled slowly, becoming one with the mountain breeze. In that moment, he truly felt the beauty of the mountains and the peace the forest bestowed upon him. Everything—every worry and care—was cast aside. All that mattered now was to savor the present, to enjoy the tranquility of the woods, to embrace all that the mountains offered. Nothing more.

Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly, hunger washing over him. He lowered his head, rubbed his belly, and smiled helplessly. Then he approached a large rock, set down his backpack, and pulled out the provisions he had prepared earlier. Though called provisions, it was really just the white rice cakes Aunt Zhang had given him, along with some cured meat and pickled vegetables.

In modern times, open flames were forbidden in the forest. As the old saying went, “A single fire on the mountain, and the village chief falls for me…” So cooking was out of the question, and the food he carried had to be dry and ready to eat. Still, having something to eat was a blessing, and Zhang Hao was not picky.

After a quick lunch, he stood up, ready to continue hiking under the bright midday sun. After all, today’s task was to traverse the entire mountain.

As he lifted his foot, his gaze casually swept to a nearby cliff face, and he froze. Not far from him, on the cliff wall, a tall stalk with a spherical tip caught his attention. It resembled a dandelion stripped bare of fluff but was covered in what looked like sharp thorns. Intrigued, Zhang Hao turned and approached the cliff, slowly raising his eyes.

Up close, on a protruding ledge of the cliff, the resilient plant was thriving. Zhang Hao pinched his chin, feeling the stubble on his face, squinting to examine it. If he wasn’t mistaken... that should be a “Dipsacus” plant.

Dipsacus was a traditional medicinal herb, a perennial with a bitter, pungent taste and mild warmth in its properties. It was known to nourish the liver and kidneys, strengthen muscles and bones, and help mend fractures. The root was the main part used for medicine.

He knew this because the "Mountain Trekker’s Illustrated Guide" contained notes on mountain treasures and herbs.

But Zhang Hao recalled that Dipsacus usually grew in rich, loose soil and preferred cool, moist environments. It was cold-tolerant but sensitive to heat. If temperatures rose above 35°C, its leaves would wither and die.

Yet here, on this sun-drenched cliff, the ledge could hardly hold fertile soil. Moreover, this Dipsacus was clearly mature; judging by the stem and spherical head, it must have taken years to grow. How had it managed to thrive in such a harsh place?

Puzzled, Zhang Hao pulled the guidebook from his pack and quickly found the page on Dipsacus.

“Dipsacus: thrives in moisture, dislikes heat, tolerates cold... strengthens muscles and bones, replenishes liver and kidney energy... root used medicinally...”

That matched his memory. But as his eyes moved down, he noticed a small line of text at the bottom.

“This plant can also grow on cliff faces; it prefers sunlight, tolerates heat and cold.”

He blinked, as if discovering new lands, his pupils dilating as he read on intently.

“Keep the head for planting, harvest the root and store it in a spirit-preserving basket. When cooked into dishes, it strengthens muscles and bones, replenishes kidney deficiencies, dispels lung heat, consolidates vitality, and nourishes the spirit. Those weak in body who consume it may regain health; the strong may fortify their essence and nurture their spirit.”

“If found, it must be harvested on the ‘Yue Yan’ day when yang energy is at its peak; otherwise, it loses its potency.”

Zhang Hao’s pupils contracted slightly, his mouth agape. Reading this, he felt a mix of shock and overwhelming joy. The phrase “those weak in body may regain health” alone justified harvesting this Dipsacus.

He himself was weakened, and so was Li Siyu, though less obviously. If they brought this Dipsacus home and cooked it, their health might be restored.

He had also read about the ‘Yue Yan’ day in the book.

“In the Yin calendar, the first month is at Xu; counting backward through the twelve earthly branches: Xu, You, Shen, Wei, Wu, Si, Chen, Mao, Yin, Chou, Zi, Hai.”

Now it was midsummer, June, the month of Yin. Yue Yan fell on Xu, opposite to Chen.

Cross-referencing the twenty-four mountain diagrams...

Zhang Hao calculated silently, his pupils narrowing.

Today was precisely the Yue Yan day in June.

Noon, when the sun was highest, was when yang energy was most abundant.

This...

The hexagram hadn’t deceived him; today’s mountain trek was truly fortunate!

The “Mountain Trekker’s Illustrated Guide” was the product of generations of trekkers’ wisdom—it did not err.

With this thought, Zhang Hao lifted his gaze eagerly toward the Dipsacus.

But then his expression darkened. That plant, though close beneath the cliff’s right side, grew on a ledge jutting out above a sheer drop.

In simple terms, to harvest the Dipsacus, he would have to climb down the cliff face without any safety gear, stepping carefully on possibly unstable rocks, pick it and place it in the spirit-preserving basket, then climb back up the same way.

If it were only that, Zhang Hao wouldn’t hesitate.

He took a few careful steps forward, reaching the cliff’s edge, and peered down.

The bottom was nowhere in sight.

A bottomless abyss...

If he slipped and fell, he’d truly become a “mountain guardian spirit.”

Swallowing hard, Zhang Hao hesitated for a few seconds, then clenched his teeth and stomped his foot.

No turning back!

Such an opportunity was rare; if he didn’t gather it now, he’d have to wait until the next Yue Yan day.

And next month...

He couldn’t guarantee the Dipsacus would still be there, waiting to be picked.

He unstrapped his backpack, securely hung the spirit-preserving basket on his body, loosened up his limbs, squinted up at the blazing sun.

He had to hurry; otherwise, the peak yang energy would pass.

With that resolve, Zhang Hao sat at the cliff’s edge, quietly waiting.

...

Meanwhile,

In the dense forest behind Zhang Hao,

A group of mourners, dressed in coarse hemp, having laid down their suona horns, drums, and banners, stepped wearily onto the path.

They walked in silence, heads bowed.

Suddenly,

The leader saw a bright light ahead and paused briefly.

Hope sparked in his eyes as he quickened his pace toward the glow.

The others followed closely behind.

Soon, the group emerged from the blinding sunlight onto a clearing, facing the towering cliff wall before them.