The Apothecary Wang, through earnest persuasion, threats, and allure, was pushing Ye Qin to gather herbs with even greater desperation, and there was naturally a reason for this. As Ye Qin’s master, Apothecary Wang was entitled to a cut of the herbs his apprentice collected. Ye Qin kept five percent of the money from the herbs he gathered, Apothecary Wang took ten percent, and the rest went to the Herb Gathering Hall. Thus, Apothecary Wang naturally wished for his apprentice to collect as many herbs as possible.

Ye Qin was fully aware of this but remained silent with his head bowed.

After a year, he had earned sixty Silver Leaves, still far short of the price for a single volume of a low-level Secret Manual, which cost one Gold Leaf. Without sufficient martial prowess, why would he easily venture into danger? The herbs belonged to others; his life was his own. To lose his life gathering herbs—no matter how he calculated it, the exchange was not worthwhile. As for Yang Yicheng and Feng Xiao, if they wished to risk their lives, that was their business.

What troubled Ye Qin was not just being lectured by Apothecary Wang every month.

He was more vexed by his own cultivation progress.

Despite a full year of diligent practice, the brightness of his luminous orb had increased by less than a tenth. At this rate, it would take him at least ten years just to double the orb’s luminosity.

The lowest First Layer realm of the Sitzeng Jing: Sitting in Forgetfulness of Self required the luminous orb to at least double in brightness before it could be considered fully mastered. The Second Layer demanded double the energy of the first.

A quick, rough estimation suggested it would take ten years for the First Layer, twenty years for the Second, and thirty years for the Third.

By the time Ye Qin completed the minimum First, Second, and Third Layers of Sitting in Forgetfulness of Self, he would be a frail old man in his late seventies or eighties, and then—alas!—he would pass away.

And his lifespan was only eighty-one years.

This age was clearly inscribed upon his Natal Primordial Spirit Tablet; every passing day meant one less day remaining. Although Ye Qin did not know why his lifespan was etched upon that stone tablet, over the past year, he had come to believe it implicitly.

The thought that he would die at eighty-one instilled a flicker of powerless dread in Ye Qin’s heart. The fear of death was a human instinct, and this dread intensified precisely because he knew the exact date of his demise. This had nothing to do with how brave he was.

Once he understood when he would die, Ye Qin lost all interest in the things Apothecary Wang had suggested—advancing to become an official Herb Gatherer, making a name for himself in the Herb Gathering Hall, marrying, and having children. Not a single shred of enthusiasm remained.

Beyond these concerns, changes had also manifested in Ye Qin’s physical being.

This was because the cultivation methods for the First through Third Layers of the Sitzeng Jing: Sitting in Forgetfulness of Self required the practitioner to restrain all outward leakage of “Qi” to prevent any vital essence from escaping.

The First Layer required the restraint of outward “facial expressions,” minimizing fluctuations in countenance.

The Second Layer required the restraint of internal “emotions,” minimizing emotional volatility.

The Third Layer required the restraint of “mental exertion,” avoiding matters that required exhaustive, draining thought.

This process served to consolidate all one's Jing, Qi, and Shen (essence, vital energy, and spirit), thereby accelerating cultivation. Failure to restrain these aspects would result in additional depletion of Jing, Qi, and Shen, slowing the rate of progress to some degree.

Ye Qin had only just begun cultivating the First Layer, so he needed to restrain his expressions.

Throughout the entire year, regardless of whether it was wind, rain, thunder, scorching sun, freezing winter, or the sarcastic barbs of others, he maintained almost the same demeanor—aloof detachment. This was because such an expression could be sustained year-round without expending much effort.

He also gradually began to speak less, as talking too much easily led to changes in facial expression.

Now, even if intense fluctuations were raging within Ye Qin’s mind, and his mental faculties were thinking with keen sharpness, his facial expression remained utterly still.

Others did not understand the reason behind this. In the eyes of those who knew Ye Qin, he had undoubtedly become somewhat cold and unapproachable.

During his three years as a Herb Gathering Boy, Ye Qin had always been calm in his dealings, never aggressive, possessing a natural, dignified air of youth. He was neither like Yang Yicheng, competitive and fond of martial displays like a ruffian gang leader, nor like Feng Xiao, overly concerned with petty trifles, radiating too much vulgar calculation. Among the five fellow disciples, Ye Qin was undoubtedly the easiest to get along with.

His junior sisters, Qian Ruoxiu and Sun Ying, both used to secretly seek him out for chats, sharing interesting tidbits and bringing him special pastries they had made. Girls generally matured earlier than boys and possessed more delicate sensibilities; they were already planning for their futures.

But since becoming an Apprentice Herb Gatherer, they only saw him occasionally when returning to Xiancheng every month, and they had so much they wanted to tell him. Yet, Ye Qin grew more detached with each passing encounter, showing no reaction to their joyful news—as if they were strangers hearing about unrelated events. This kind of “heartlessness” deeply wounded them, turning their feelings towards him into resentment, and they stopped paying him any mind.

What could Ye Qin feel, other than a touch of bitterness?

Even if his heart felt bitter, his face could not reveal a trace of emotion other than detachment.

If this was the case with his two junior sisters, then his relationships with his senior brother Yang Yicheng and junior brother Feng Xiao had naturally deteriorated even further.

On one occasion, Yang Yicheng invited Ye Qin, along with a group of Herb Gathering Hall apprentices, out for drinks in the street. Ye Qin refused because he disliked overly boisterous places. Yang Yicheng felt that Ye Qin had caused him to lose face and wasn't a true brother, leading him to hold a grudge against Ye Qin.

Feng Xiao felt Ye Qin was too aloof. Since Ye Qin never offered him a smile when greeting him, Feng Xiao began to resent him internally. The relationships among the disciples, which had been barely amicable, grew increasingly thin over the past year. When they occasionally met, it was merely a brief greeting; there was rarely time for casual conversation.

Apothecary Wang, however, paid Ye Qin’s transformation no mind. He himself usually wore a perpetually icy, grim expression. In Apothecary Wang’s view, Ye Qin’s detachment was quite pleasing; this was the attitude befitting an Apprentice Herb Gatherer. What was the use of excessive enthusiasm? It couldn't be eaten as food; getting the work done properly was what mattered.

The only solace for Ye Qin was Cheng Daniu.

Every time Ye Qin returned to Zhuqi County Town, he would visit Daniu at the Yang Family Blacksmith Shop. Daniu had become a blacksmith's apprentice, a sturdy, dark-skinned lad of fourteen, already proficient enough with Uncle Yang to forge farm implements skillfully. He could support himself. Daniu remained the same as before; he did not let Ye Qin’s distant expression create distance between them. However, the relationship they once shared, like brothers sharing hardship, had changed. Daniu’s feelings toward him were now laced more with awe.

Ye Qin felt a pang of sadness. He had noticed this expression of reverence in the eyes of many residents in the county town—it was the awe ordinary folk held for martial practitioners. Nevertheless, as long as Daniu was doing well at the Yang Family Blacksmith Shop, Ye Qin could rest easy. He could not ask for more at this time.

He knew that if this situation continued, no one in the Herb Gathering Hall would tolerate his growing and intense detachment. Since beginning the cultivation of the Sitzeng Jing: Sitting in Forgetfulness of Self, this path was likely destined to be walked by him alone. .