Zhou Yu stood nervously, though inwardly he felt greatly relieved.
He had heard about the hardships of refugees reclaiming wasteland, but never dreamed he would become one of them.
Though skilled, without any silver taels, his only option was to attach himself to someone else.
Rather than serving some powerful landlord or minor aristocratic family—condemning himself and his descendants to generations of servitude—he preferred finding a kind household to weather these difficult first years, avoiding forced labor under government orders.
When starving and destitute, Li Rongzhou's two meat buns had given him immense comfort and hope, convincing him this was the right family.
He knew nothing about "choosing a wise master"—he simply wanted a decent family to provide his next meal.
Zhou Yu presented the spiritual herb seed honestly: "This was passed down from my grandfather. I don't know what herb it's from—won't sprout no matter if soaked in water or buried in soil."
Useless if it wouldn't sprout. Only his skepticism about it being a "spiritual herb seed" made him willing to part with it now, hoping to increase his perceived value.
Even small farmers had their survival wisdom.
Li Pingcan pondered. Villagers said seeds past their year rarely sprouted, let alone after decades.
Yet when the deep purplish-brown seed, faintly metallic, landed in his palm, he sensed a tenacious whisper of life.
'Zhou Yu wasn't lying—this is no ordinary seed.'
'But calling it a spiritual herb seed isn't quite right either.'
Its aura differed from the Ancestral Tree, resembling more a treasure seed, potentially more valuable than Blood Qi herbs.
Ordinary mortal methods couldn't awaken it—only his Druid skills might succeed.
The Li family settled Zhou Yu alone in Granny Wang's abandoned home.
A ten-year contract was signed: Zhou Yu would cultivate medicinal fields for the Lis, who'd provide seedlings and household registration.
Both parties were satisfied.
After observing Zhou Yu for days, Li Pingcan found the middle-aged man genuinely honest, hardworking, and grateful—a true farmer—dissipating his initial wariness.
Shortly after Lady Qin's grain purchase, rice prices in Flat Peach Town rose. Teahouses and taverns buzzed with unverified rumors about Phoenix Town.
Li Pingfu returned home dusty and breathless, immediately sharing urgent news before even drinking water.
"Everyone's saying Phoenix County is gone."
"Do they know why?" Lady Qin asked anxiously, fearing another "Celestial Calamity" disrupting their peace.
"Something about a great demon appearing. Immortal officials have sealed the entire prefecture—details are unclear."
Li Pingfu had heard fragmented, exaggerated accounts at the teahouse, leaving listeners unsettled.
"Phoenix County's troubles don't concern us yet," Li Pingcan interjected. "Brother, inform Chief Grandpa—we need stronger gates at the village entrance."
With mountains on two sides and water on another, securing the entrance would deter outsiders—mainly refugees.
The wise old chief would surely agree.
"Right." Li Pingfu nodded, realizing he should also warn Zhou Enxian and Uncle Li Fang—everyone needed caution with refugees roaming.
"Caw! Boss, strangers approach Peach Blossom Village!"
Little Black's warning echoed as Li Pingcan saw through mushroom-linked vision several ragged figures lingering at the village gates.
Fortunately, the wooden barrier held. After futile attempts, the refugees trudged toward Peach Leaf Village.
Li Pingcan's mood darkened.
While sympathetic, he knew chaos demanded pragmatism—the fable of the farmer and the snake taught that kindness could be fatal. Sometimes aloofness stemmed not from coldness, but limited capacity for charity.
His former laziness vanished, replaced by diligent White Crane Style practice.
Next day, clamoring village women gathered outside, relief and fear mingling on their faces.
"What happened?" Lady Qin inquired.
"Lady Qin! A Peach Leaf Village family was robbed—everything taken, everyone killed!"
The women's pity couldn't mask their terror, though they glanced gratefully at Lady Qin.
She'd initially thought the Li brothers wasteful for insisting on village gates—no pay for such labor! Now she was profoundly thankful.
Without this "foresight," Peach Blossom Village might have suffered instead!
"All dead? How awful! Didn't authorities catch the thieves?" Lady Qin paled, unable to envision such brutality.
"The killers fled. Officials can't track them—nor would they bother!"
Sighing deeply, Lady Qin silently prayed for her absent loved ones:
"May my husband and son journey safely, encountering no misfortune."
The son in her thoughts, Li Ping'an, sat in the examination hall.
Unlike his first attempt, bearing the "county examination top scorer" title transformed everything. The identity verification remained, but inspectors handled his clothes respectfully, no longer rough.
Even his food was carefully sliced open, not mangled.
Assigned the most spacious booth, far from the foul-smelling ones, he was politely addressed:
"Rest awhile. Examinations commence shortly. May victory and prosperity follow you."
The attendant's flattery vanished outside as he barked at other candidates. Several bedraggled scholars entered muttering "disgraceful," humiliation twisting their features.
Li Ping'an felt dazed.
Months ago, that had been him—swallowing indignation to focus on exams.
Now he enjoyed privileged treatment, suddenly among the elite.
'Without the top scorer title, I'm nothing.'
'To earn respect, to protect my family from humiliation, I must climb higher—reach the peak.'
Rubbing his ink-scented inkstone in that tiny booth, Li Ping'an tasted power for the first time—and found it addictive.