My Path to Immortality with a Blade of Grass - Chapter 2

03

During my first year in the herb garden, little Lingzhi and I gradually became friends who could talk about anything.

There were hundreds upon hundreds of different plants in the garden, and more plants in the world than stars in the sky.

But my little Lingzhi was the most special of them all.

He was clever.

He taught me to study the patterns of the stars, recognize changes in the clouds and weather, and find north, south, east, and west by the direction plants grew…

He made me love the sun, the distant mountains, and all the flowers and grasses I’d never cared about before.

Because he was there, I seemed to love the world a little more.

He was gentle.

Sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, he’d suddenly fall quiet and listen to the messages carried on the breeze.

Then he’d tell me that termites had settled on a certain tree or flower and ask me to help get rid of them.

When I returned victorious, he’d rub his seed head against my multicolored scales.

He was good to me, too.

Once, after falling asleep beside him, I woke to find him straining to hold his stalk straight and spread out his seed head, trying to shield my eyes from the shafts of sunlight.

But I still called him Weed, and he still answered cheerfully.

I thought: thousands upon thousands of people in the world might call him lingzhi, but only I called him Weed.

I wanted to be the most special little snake in his heart, too.

In the second year, people began breaking through the old immortal’s many seals and entering the garden, intent on stealing the immortal herb.

I reared up and watched their every move with a vicious stare, flicking my forked tongue.

They edged toward me and my little Lingzhi as though treading on thin ice.

That made me furious.

I hissed at them to back off, drawing in the front half of my body, fangs ready to strike at any moment.

At the sight of me, they retreated.

I’d protected my little Lingzhi.

But they didn’t leave. I often saw them lingering nearby.

These humans called me the “treasure-guarding spirit snake.”

Afraid of confronting me, they tried to lure me away.

They brought an entirely snow-white female snake.

Now that was insulting.

They hadn’t even figured out whether I was male or female, and they had the nerve to insult my intelligence?

They’d actually brought another little snake in front of my little Lingzhi?

Luckily, Lingzhi paid the newcomer no attention. Only then did I let the little white snake return to her owner alive.

When their “beautiful snake” ploy failed, those loathsome humans resorted to something even more underhanded.

They brought a chicken.

A chicken!

Since the white-bearded immortal had caught me, I hadn’t tasted meat for a year, let alone the chicken that haunted my every waking thought and dream.

The sight of that plump, delicious rooster nearly brought tears to my eyes.

But I stood firm.

I loved, loved, loved chicken.

But I loved my little Lingzhi more.

Drool, don’t you dare fall!