Chen Ping’s heart hammered against his ribs as he crossed the small courtyard.

He pushed open the heavy wooden door. The room smelled of bitter herbs and old wood.

The conditioning of the last six months—the Spirit Grain, the Spirit Spring water, the constant stream of low-grade pills—had worked miracles, but the damage of a lifetime was deep.

His father, Chen Dashan, sat on the edge of the kang bed. His frame had filled out, the skeletal gauntness caused by the spirit metal poison replaced by returning muscle. Though his complexion still carried an unhealthy gray pallor, his eyes were bright, and his voice had regained some of its old timber.

His mother, Lin Shi, leaned against the headboard, a thin quilt draped over her legs.

Her recovery had been much slower. Her cheeks remained sunken, the skin loose and papery over her cheekbones. Her hands, resting on the quilt, showed the clear, knobby joints of a lifetime of hard labor—a deep-seated depletion of vital energy that food alone could not fix.

“Father. Mother.”

Chen Ping placed the two jade boxes on the small wooden table.

Chen Dashan saw the solemn look on his son’s face and set down the half-finished bamboo basket he was weaving. Old habits died hard; for a man like him, idleness was a sickness.

“Ping’er? What’s this?”

“Father, Mother… relying on ordinary tonics is too slow.”

Chen Ping flipped the lids of the boxes.

Inside lay the two sections of translucent vine, misted with swirling, multicolored Qi.

“This is the Five Elements Yin Spirit Vine. It is a rare treasure,” Chen Ping said, keeping his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “Consuming it gives you a chance to develop a Spirit Root. It will let you cultivate, just like me. You can draw the Qi of heaven and earth into your bodies. You can repair your depleted essence. You can extend your lifespans.”

He tried to keep it simple, but the excitement in his tone was undeniable.

For a Mortal, this wasn’t just medicine. It was Rebirth. It was a defiance of fate itself.

His parents stared at the glowing vines. They could feel the extraordinary power radiating from the boxes—a heavy, humming pressure that made the air in the small room vibrate.

They exchanged a look. Silence stretched between them.

Chen Dashan reached out a rough, calloused hand and gingerly touched one of the vines. It was warm, alive. He withdrew his hand as if burned and shook his head.

“Ping’er… this is too precious.” His voice was low, but hard as iron. “Your mother and I have lived our lives. The yellow earth is already up to our necks. Eating this? It would be a waste of heaven’s gifts. You keep it. Your Immortal Path is long. You will need it more than us.”

Lin Shi struggled to sit up, her movements weak and shaky. She grabbed Chen Ping’s hand, her fingers icy cold.

“Your father is right. We are old husks. Seeing you succeed, living a few peaceful days… that is enough for us. Keep this treasure. In the future… when you take a wife, have children… you will need it! Don’t waste it on us.”

“Mother! What are you saying?” Chen Ping gripped her hand, his heart twisting.

“This is for you! It can heal you! It can give you decades more life! Father, Mother, think about it. If you cultivate, if you become healthy… that is my only wish. How can I walk the Immortal Path with peace of mind knowing you are suffering?”

“No!”

Chen Dashan’s face flushed red. The stubborn anger of a father protecting his child flared in his eyes.

“When you were small, we were poor. We couldn’t give you anything. We just prayed you would make something of yourself. Now you finally have some luck, some immortal fortune… and you want us to steal it from you? No! Take it back! If you mention this again, I… I won’t hear another word of it!”

He turned his face away, his chest heaving with emotion.

Lin Shi wept silently, her bony fingers clutching Chen Ping’s sleeve, an anchor refusing to let him sacrifice himself for them.

They were used to giving everything to him. It was an instinct carved into their bones. Immortal fortune? Immortality? Those were dreams. Their son’s survival was reality.

Chen Ping looked at his father’s stubborn back and his mother’s tears. A sour, astringent lump clogged his throat.

He understood their love. But right now, that love was the greatest obstacle.

He took a deep breath. He had to lie.

“Father, Mother. Listen to me.” He forced a laugh, injecting a tone of helpless amusement into his voice. “You think this is rare? It’s not. I planted a whole field of this stuff! I have at least forty plants growing right now! These two are just the best of the batch. I have so much I don’t know what to do with it!”

“What?”

Chen Dashan whipped his head around, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Forty plants? Ping’er, don’t lie to us just to make us take our medicine.”

Lin Shi stopped crying, looking at him with shock and doubt. “Really? That many?”

“Absolutely true!” Chen Ping thumped his chest. “This vine grows like a weed. It propagates from cuttings instantly. To me, this is just… a vegetable. It’s not precious at all. If you don’t believe me, once you’re better, I’ll take you to see the stockpile!”

His parents exchanged suspicious glances. Their son sounded so certain.

Could it be true? Did the Immortal World really have treasures that grew like wild grass?

“You… you aren’t lying to your father?” Chen Dashan’s voice wavered. The wall of refusal was cracking.

“Father, I would never lie to you,” Chen Ping said, looking him straight in the eye. “The greatest waste would be leaving these to rot in a box. Please. Eat them. Get healthy. Stay with me longer.”

Chen Dashan stared at his son, then at the glowing vines, and finally at his wife’s haggard face.

He let out a long, defeated sigh. His shoulders slumped.

“Ah… you stubborn child. If there really are that many… then… alright.”

Lin Shi wiped her eyes and nodded gently. “Mother will listen to you.”

The weight on Chen Ping’s chest vanished.

“Good! Father, Mother, sit cross-legged. Relax your minds. Don’t think about anything. It might hurt a little, but I will be right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He gingerly handed the sections of vine to them.

They sat on the kang, holding the strange, luminous plants. The room was silent, heavy with anticipation.

They looked at their son one last time. Under his encouraging nod, they closed their eyes and placed the Five Elements Yin Spirit Vines into their mouths.

The vines dissolved instantly, melting into a stream of warm, clear spring water that slid down their throats.

But the moment that “spring water” hit their stomachs, the illusion shattered.

BOOM!

“Mmph!”

Chen Dashan and Lin Shi convulsed violently.

The gentle warmth vanished, replaced by a torrent of raw, savage power that detonated inside them.

It was the chaotic force of the Five Elements—the razor sharpness of Metal, the bursting pressure of Wood, the freezing Yin of Water, the scorching heat of Fire, the crushing weight of Earth.

It was a flood.

And it was tearing into their fragile, mortal meridians with the force of a tsunami.