ALL NOVEL Chapter 2: The Medicinal Garden of the Immortal King
Surrounding the ancient tree stood a myriad of peculiar and diverse plants, including grasses, ginseng, flowers, and trees. Without exception, each emitted a soft glow, rising amidst the sacred white fog, exuding an incredibly holy aura.
Wang Heng stood there, dazed by the scene before him. Where was this place? Could he still be dreaming?
After a moment of stupor, he regained his senses, looking in astonishment at the array of plants gathered before him.
Rather than calling them plants, one could describe them as immortal spirits sitting in radiance, each possessing a sacred and brilliant appearance, with an aura transcending the mundane world.
This spectacle gave Wang Heng the illusion that he had accidentally wandered into the legendary realm of immortals; in his mind, only a world filled with divine beings could grow such celestial flora.
Not only did these plants appear sacred, but they also exuded a rich medicinal fragrance that floated in the void, entering his body through his nose and mouth, causing his pores to open and an overwhelming sense of relaxation to envelop him, making him feel buoyant.
At this moment, Wang Heng noticed a slightly shriveled green fruit hanging three feet above his head, with one or two drops of juice about to fall, fresh and tempting, emitting an intoxicating fragrance.
He was very familiar with this aroma; moments ago, amid endless agony, it was this kind of enchanting nectar that appeared at a crucial moment, dispersing the darkness and saving his life.
The drops of juice hanging from the fruit before him were identical to what entered his mouth, or perhaps from the same fruit.
In an instant, Wang Heng understood the essence of this dream.
In a realm beyond the mundane, a man referred to as “Lord Heng” found himself inexplicably unconscious.
Soon, an assembly of ethereal plants, akin to divine beings, used the juice of a special fruit to revive the so-called “Lord Heng.”
Realizing this, Wang Heng smiled, for, as expected, his role within this dream was presumably that of a celestial being residing in the heavens.
While he was lost in thought, marveling at the dream's vividness and the challenge in discerning its reality, a withered fruit suddenly floated in the air, drifting towards the most extraordinary ancient tree.
“Poof!”
Without warning, the withered fruit burst open, transforming into a brilliant shower of light rain that poured over the tree's branches and leaves, emitting a radiant glow.
Whether it was an illusion or not, Wang Heng felt that the fruits borne on the branches of the ancient tree appeared even more profound in color after this celestial shower.
“Hmm?”
Upon observing the fruits on the ancient tree, Wang Heng realized that the fruit which alleviated his suffering and eventually turned into light rain came from this extraordinary ancient tree.
It was no different from the other few fruits hanging high on the tree, except in size and color depth, which indicated their level of ripeness.
“Master Heng, you are awake.”
An ancient voice resonated, echoing by Wang Heng’s ear, imbued with the breath of time, cleansing the soul. In a trance, he seemed to behold a vast river of time, upon which stood an ancient tree, steadfast against the relentless passage of time and the tumultuous flow of the river, existing throughout eternity.
Shaking his head abruptly, Wang Heng was slightly startled as he gazed at the elder tree bathed in a rain of light— it was from this tree that the voice emanated.
A tree, speaking in human tongue, was astonishing enough, but even more awe-inspiring was its steadfast presence in the grand river of time, as if it were immortal and indestructible.
Caught in a state of shock, Wang Heng found it difficult to respond, and a tense silence hung in the air.
“Master Heng's primordial spirit has recently endured severe tribulations, possibly causing unforeseen consequences. He seems to have lost his memory, not recognizing us,” spoke an aged purple ginseng plant.
“Indeed, something is amiss. The way the master looks at us carries an air of unfamiliarity. Alas, not even the Longevity Fruit can heal the wound on his primordial spirit?” sighed a tall, lush ancient tree, laden with divine fruits, radiating an imposing aura.
However, Wang Heng could sense the immense respect this large tree held for the elder tree. Clearly, the elder tree, provider of the immortal nectar, had an extraordinary origin, likely the sacred sovereign plant of this land.
It was evident from the name of the fruit itself—Longevity Fruit—that such a fruit, named after longevity, could hardly be anything but extraordinary.
“So, have I eaten the Longevity Fruit? Could this mean I am now immortal?” Wang Heng thought, but then he chuckled, dismissing it as merely a dream. Once awakened, everything would surely dissipate like smoke.
“There is such a possibility. Although I have dripped the juice of the Longevity Fruit into the young master's mouth, quelling the chaos within his spiritual consciousness, what's done is done. The damage is unavoidable, and ultimately, I was a step too late,” the ancient tree remarked with a touch of melancholy.
Then it looked towards Wang Heng. Being a tree, Wang Heng couldn't discern its expression at the moment, and only heard it ask, “Young Master Heng, do you feel any discomfort in your body or mind?”
Upon hearing this, Wang Heng immediately shook his head in response.
Subsequently, adopting an attitude of accepting the given circumstances, he asked, “Where is this place? Who are you?”
To Wang Heng, this was just a dream of his own, so there was no need to be overly constrained or fearful; at worst, when the dream shattered, he would awaken.
“Indeed, he has amnesia. He came to the garden to gather herbs but was thrust into this calamity without rhyme or reason. If the Immortal King returns and learns of this, he will surely blame us. What should we do?” A red flower spoke swiftly, slightly anxious.
Its entire body was crimson like blood, with faint flames flickering along its stem. Just being near it invoked a parched sensation.
“Indeed, the wrath of the Immortal King is something we humble divine herbs cannot endure,” echoed a mystical plant next to the crimson flower. Each of its nine leaves was etched with mysterious and intricate patterns of objects like knives, swords, towers, and cauldrons, all exuding extraordinary Daoist resonance.
The dialogue between the two divine herbs threw the surrounding plants into a state of panic.
They were acutely aware of how difficult it had been for the Immortal King’s progeny to come to be, which was why over the years, Young Master Heng had received immense attention and devoted affection from the King, who held great expectations for him.
If it becomes known that he met with misfortune, and his primordial spirit was gravely damaged to the point of amnesia, the Immortal King would surely be enraged.
At this moment, the ancient tree, leader of the plants, spoke up to comfort them: “Let us not be hasty in making conclusions. This calamity of the primordial spirit might not necessarily be a misfortune for Young Master Heng.”
Hearing this, the others finally calmed down.
The ancient tree did not offer further explanation but instead responded to the question Wang Heng had previously asked.
“Does Young Master Heng remember nothing at all? This is the Immortal King’s medicinal garden, and we are the spiritual medicines that follow the King, planted within the garden.”
(End of Chapter)
