I gain ten years' worth of cultivation every day, and even geniuses will only see my doorstep!

The rescue team's reputation spread throughout the myriad worlds. Some praised Qin Yuan as a true guardian, while others accused him of buying people's hearts. Still others worried that his rescue team would undermine the authority of the Council of Myriad Worlds—not Qin Yuan's authority, but the Council's authority. It had taken the Council several years to convince the various worlds that "everyone's word is law" was better than "one person's word is law," and Qin Yuan's rescue team made some people feel that "that one person is more useful than everyone else combined."

Someone in parliament argued that the rescue team's actions were illegal as they had not been approved by the parliament. Qin Yuan attended the hearing. He stood in the center of the chamber, surrounded by more than two thousand members of parliament. There was no dock, no judge, only more than two thousand pairs of eyes watching him.

Qin Yuan said, "The relief team did not spend a single penny of parliament's money, nor did it employ a single member of parliament. It does not belong to parliament."

"Then who does it belong to?"

"It belongs to those who want to go."

The vote was held. Of the more than two thousand votes cast, 1,132 were in favor of the legitimacy, 968 were against, and abstentions were disregarded. The aid mission was deemed legitimate. However, a condition was attached—the mission's actions must be reported to parliament, and a report must be submitted annually.

Qin Yuan agreed.

After the meeting, Li Qing approached him. "Are you really planning to write a report every year?"

"I won't write it. You write it."

Li Qing was taken aback. "Why?"

"You promised to come with me."

Li Qing swore, not loudly, but Qin Yuan heard it. He smiled, the first time he had smiled in a long time.

The rescue team operated for five years, helping hundreds of countries. Qin Yuan returned home less and less, sometimes only once every few months, sometimes every six months. The old plum tree's blossoms bloomed and faded, bloomed and faded again; he missed the flowering season twice. Lin Qing'er didn't complain, but she made a decision.

Qin Yuan returned to Xuan Yuan Sect once again, only to find Lin Qing'er gone. She wasn't under the old plum tree, by the stream, or inside the house. The vegetables in the herb garden grew neatly; the leaves of the bok choy had no insect holes, the soil around the radishes had been loosened, and the trellises for the beans were sturdy. It was clear they had just been watered.

But she wasn't there.

There was a note on the table, weighed down by a teacup. Her handwriting on the note wasn't beautiful, but it was neat. "I'm going to the rescue team. Wherever you are, I'll be there."

Qin Yuan stood there holding the note for a while. Then he smiled.

He went to the rescue team's base—a makeshift camp near the Summit of Myriad Realms. The tents in the camp were gray, some new, some old, and some patched. Lin Qing'er was bandaging an injured refugee; the wound was on his arm, caused by a stone hitting him. The bone wasn't broken, but the flesh was torn. Her hands were steady, and her movements were gentle. The gauze was wrapped round and round, finally tied in a bow.

She looked up and saw Qin Yuan, but offered no explanation.

"You've arrived."

Qin Yuan said, "Now that you've come, how could I not come?"

The rescue team now had two leaders. One was in charge of fighting, and the other was in charge of bandaging wounds. No one objected, because no one dared to object.

Ten years after its founding, the rescue team had helped thousands of worlds. Qin Yuan was no longer the only rescuer—those he trained could now handle most problems independently. Li Qing could dig wells; she had learned Qin Yuan's drilling techniques, though much less powerful, it was sufficient for dealing with ordinary rock formations. Ni Dan could grow vegetables; his taro had spread throughout the Muddy World, and taro fields appeared along the edges of the swamps. Lin Qing'er could heal; she had treated more people than she had ever met in her life.

Qin Yuan decided to withdraw from frontline rescue work.

Li Qing asked him, "Where are you going?"

"go home."

Muddy gave him a basket of taro. They weren't very big, but they were quite heavy. The taro skin was purple, and it shone in the sunlight after being washed clean.

"This is the best," Mud Egg said. His voice was no longer hoarse, his shoulders were broader, and his face was fuller. But the way he stood on the edge of the swamp remained unchanged, like a wooden stake stuck in the mud.

Qin Yuan took the taro and patted Nidan on the shoulder.

Back at the Xuan Yuan Sect, the old plum tree had lost its leaves, but the flowers had not yet bloomed. The branches were bare, but tiny flower buds, the size of grains of rice, had already sprouted on them, and could only be seen by getting very close.

Qin Yuan and Lin Qing'er sat on the bluestone. Beside them was a basket of taro, still covered in mud, which he hadn't washed.

"Aren't you going to the rescue team?" Lin Qing'er asked.

"They have their things to do. We have ours to do."

Lin Qing'er asked, "What's up?"

Qin Yuan thought for a moment. "Look at the stream. Look at the old plum tree. Look at you."

Lin Qing'er leaned on his shoulder. The branches of the old plum tree swayed gently in the wind. There were no flowers, no leaves, only bare branches. But spring would come. The flowers would bloom. They weren't in a hurry.

Spring has arrived, and the old plum tree has finally blossomed. Not just a few scattered blossoms as in previous years, but a profusion of flowers, white as snow and pink as the sunset. The petals are crowded on the branches, layer upon layer, and when the wind blows, they fall down in a rustling sound, covering the bluestone, the stream, and Qin Yuan's shoulders.

He sat on the bluestone, looking at the flowers, without saying a word.

Lin Qing'er came out of the house, carrying a pot of new tea. It was this year's new tea, which she had personally stir-fried; the tender buds were quickly tossed in the wok, resulting in a vibrant green color and a delicate aroma. She sat down next to Qin Yuan and poured the tea into two bowls. The tea liquor was a pale golden color, and through the steam, one could see the blue-green patterns at the bottom of the bowls.

I want to go out for a walk.

Lin Qing'er held her teacup, not looking at him. "Where are you going?"

"Just wander around. See how those places have changed."

She didn't ask, "When will you be back?" She put down her teacup, rested her hands on her knees, and looked at the old plum tree. "Finish your tea before you leave."

Qin Yuan picked up the teacup and took a sip. The tea wasn't too hot, just right for her taste. The aftertaste was slow, but lingered on the back of her tongue for a long time, much like her personality.

The two sat by the stream all day. From morning until noon, the sun moved from the east to its zenith, casting shadows that grew longer and shorter, then longer again. Old plum blossom petals fell, landing in their teacups, on their shoulders, and in the stream. The stream carried them away, and new petals fell. Lin Qing'er didn't remove the petals from her shoulders, and Qin Yuan didn't help her.

As the sun set, Qin Yuan finished his last bowl of tea. There was a petal at the bottom of the bowl, but he didn't throw it away. He stood up and placed the empty bowl on the bluestone.

"Leaving tomorrow?"

"tomorrow."

Lin Qing'er didn't stand up. She kept her head down, looking at the petals on the water's surface. "Okay."

The next morning, before dawn, Qin Yuan left the Xuan Yuan Sect alone. The old plum tree was still shedding its blossoms, and the sound of his footsteps was drowned out by the falling petals. Lin Qing'er stood beneath the old plum tree, not seeing him off. She was wearing yesterday's clothes, her hair uncombed. A gust of wind blew, and petals covered her.

The swamp of Chennijie is still there, but it's no longer barren. When Qin Yuan left, there were only a few crooked sheds and experimental fields. Now, large tracts of taro fields have appeared along the edge of the swamp, their leaves a bright green and taller than a person. The field ridges are neatly constructed, and reed fences separate the fields. The drainage ditches are deep and the water flows smoothly.