“Yun Qing-er, where is my medicine?”

Chu Xi stepped into my room and shouted. Her voice was high-pitched and thin, the usual sweet and coy sound completely gone from it. She glared at me with her hands on her hip. “Stop being so lazy. What have you been doing all day?”

I tied up the bandage I was wrapping around my fingers and said softly: “I just picked up the herbs this morning. I will get to the medicine shortly.”

“Be quick about it,” Chu Xi said. “You are so slow and clumsy. I can never fathom why Master Bai Ye would take a disciple like you.”

I watched her leave and sighed.

It wasn’t that I was clumsy. Gathering the herbs she needed was not an easy task, and with the rain in the morning, the path uphill was slippery and dangerous. I cut my forefinger on the blades of a long shrub, then got my thumb caught in a poisonous vine, but at least I made it back downhill safe with all the freshest ingredients.

She was right about Master Bai Ye though. I sometimes wondered myself, why would an immortal from Mount Hua want to take such a plain and talentless girl as his only disciple? I wasn’t quick-witted like Chu Xi or a fast learner like Zhong Yilan, and I certainly didn’t have half of their beauty.

I remembered the day when I met Bai Ye five years ago. I had just lost my parents to the plague and was walking alone aimlessly on the street, not knowing where to go or what to do. That was when he descended from the sky and landed in front of me.

The moment I saw him, I thought I saw a god. He was tall and slim, his long dark hair cascading like a waterfall behind him. The sleeves of his white robe flapped in the sweet autumn breeze like a bird fluttering in my heart. When he bent down to speak to me, I thought the world was lost in his pitch-black eyes under those thick, long lashes.

“What’s your name, little girl?” he asked me simply. His voice was mesmerizing, cool as summer rain.

“Yun Qing-er,” I said. I wondered how old he thought I was. I wasn’t really a little girl anymore, but I was short and scrawny for thirteen, and many people had mistaken me for much younger.

“Qing-er,” he stretched out a hand to smooth out my messy, tangled hair. Something sparkled in his black eyes, though I couldn’t tell what it was. “I made you wait too long,” he said. “Come with me.”

I nodded, not entirely understanding what he meant. He led me onto his flying sword, and the next moment when I glanced down below us, all I could see were clouds and a wisp of land far, far away.

Little had I known back then that the man who whisked me away was a legendary immortal at Mount Hua. I learned the fact after I got here. Mount Hua was a place for people with a special talent called spiritual roots to cultivate and ascend into the realm of immortals, and Bai Ye was one of those who succeeded. Although he only looked to be in his twenties, he had lived over five hundred years and was one of the most powerful and most revered immortals of the whole Mount Hua.

And he had never taken a disciple in five hundred years. Except me.

I sighed again as I rinsed the herbs and started to grind them. Why had Bai Ye chosen me? My spiritual root was a mix of wood, earth, water, and fire. Not pure at all with four elements out of five, which meant that the chance of me ascending would be very small. Even if I could manage somehow, it would take much longer than average. No masters wanted disciples with such a gloomy future.

The fresh scent released from the crushed herbs filled my nostrils, drawing me back from my reverie. At least, my affinity to wood and earth helped in the practice of medicine, and I had gotten better at it over the years with experience. I might never be good with a sword, but I had my own skills that I might one day be proud of.

When I was done with the grinding, I heated a pot of spring water over the fire and poured the mixture into it. The steam filled the room, making the already humid summer afternoon even hotter. I dabbed my forehead with my sleeve.

“Qing-er,” a bright voice rang from the doorway. I froze in place.

Bai Ye lifted the curtain over the entrance and stepped in. He was wearing his typical white robe today, trimmed with a silver cloud pattern at the hem and cuffs. I could smell the familiar cedar scent on him as he walked closer. “What happened to your hand?” he frowned when he saw the bandage on my fingers.

“A scratch from the herbs. Nothing serious.” I felt myself blushing. I hadn’t changed clothes after coming back from the herb collecting trip. My dress had mud smeared all over, and I probably smelled like sweat. I didn’t want him to see me like this.

Thankfully, Bai Ye’s attention was fully on my hand. “You wrapped it too thick,” he said, “it’s not good for the summer.” He picked up my injured hand in his and led me toward the benches.

“M-Master …” I stammered, “the medicine is still boiling. I can fix the bandages myself later.”

His steps didn’t slow. “Who’s the medicine for? Chu Xi? Zhong Yilan?”

“Chu Xi,” I replied timidly.

As I expected, the look on Bai Ye’s face darkened. “Just because her father is the Gatekeeper doesn’t mean she owns this place and can command everyone else like her slaves.” His tone sounded dangerous. “Don’t worry about the medicine. Let it burn and give it to her that way.”

“Master …”

“Now sit,” he commanded. I obeyed quietly.

Bai Ye carefully unrolled the bandage. His hand was warm and soft, and I knew I blushed again when our fingers touched.

“Don’t go gather herbs in bad weather again, Qing-er. The dirt path is dangerous when wet. Chu Xi’s life is not enough to pay for it if you fall.”

I nodded, watching Bai Ye gently wrap a new layer of gauze over my hand.. My heartbeat quickened every time his skin brushed against mine.