Chapter 7 First Steps in a New World

He arrived on the hillside in late afternoon light—the same general location, offset perhaps one hundred meters from his previous arrival point. The pendant was consistent in its targeting, if not precise.

Shen Wei shrugged his backpack into a comfortable position, checked his knife, and began.

He pulled a sample container from his pack and knelt, scooping soil into it. The soil was dark and rich, and when he sealed the container and held it up to the light, he could see flecks of crystalline material glinting within—Qi-saturated mineral deposits. In Tianji, soil like this would be classified as a cultivation substrate and sold by the kilogram to formation builders. Here, it was dirt.

He moved downhill toward the stream, cataloging flora as he went. His botanical knowledge was theoretical, gained from textbooks and databases, never from fieldwork, but the plants here matched their descriptions closely enough that identification was possible.

Spirit Grass grew in dense patches along the hillside. Three-Leaf Ginseng clustered around exposed rock formations where Qi concentration was slightly higher. Cloud Moss draped from the lower branches of trees, its filaments faintly luminous with stored spiritual energy.

He collected samples of each, handling them with the care of a technician managing volatile compounds. Natural spirit herbs were more potent and more unpredictable than their synthetic counterparts. A crushing grip could rupture cell walls and dissipate the stored Qi in seconds.

The stream was remarkable. Perfectly clear water flowing over polished stones that sparkled with embedded Qi crystals. When he dipped a sample container into the current, the water inside glowed—faintly, briefly, but visibly. He sealed it and held it up. The glow faded, but the water retained a density and texture that no purification system in Yongcheng could produce.

It was a risk, but it looked too good to pass up. He took the tiniest sip. Cool, clean, faintly sweet, with a mineral complexity he could feel settling into his body. His Qi cycled involuntarily, accelerating. He forced himself to stop. He did not know if there were contaminants or parasites that his immune system couldn’t handle. Caution first, he thought, and then laughed at himself. If caution first, he shouldn’t have taken that sip.

He filled three more containers with water and moved on.

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The forest edge was thirty minutes’ walk from his arrival point. The trees were even more impressive up close. The silver-barked ones were a species he couldn’t identify, trunks smooth and warm to the touch, leaves emitting a faint chime when the wind moved through them. The red-barked trees were Crimson Ironwoods—a species nearly extinct in Tianji, their wood prized for artifact crafting, resistant to Qi corrosion, and supernaturally hard. A plank of Crimson Ironwood would buy his apartment building.

He did not attempt to cut one. His focus was surveying, not harvesting. He would pick up things in easy reach, but nothing requiring outsize effort. And the forest made him nervous. The open hillside had sight lines and escape routes. Under the canopy, visibility dropped to twenty meters, and the shadows held sounds he could not identify.

He was right to be nervous.