Evan Yang recounted the process of planting herbs today, but deliberately left out the part where he switched medicinal plants, so Logan Luo couldn’t catch him out. Logan inwardly snickered, thinking, "Kid, you even try to plant the ones without roots? Let’s see how you make them live—soon you’ll be suffering for it."
Evan had no idea what Logan was thinking. He only knew that, according to Tiger Sun, as long as the herb had roots it could survive. Pretending to be clueless, he asked, "Steward Logan, can I leave now?"
Seeing Evan so relaxed, Steward Logan’s eyes lit up and a scheme flashed through his mind. Evan was sent off to fetch water again. He couldn’t resist Logan’s orders—after all, he was just a mortal, powerless to fight back. All he could do was remember today’s humiliation and hope to repay it someday.
At the riverbank, Evan frowned at the two large buckets beside him. He noticed these buckets were much bigger than those used by ordinary people—at least half again as wide. He didn’t know what they were made of, only that they were heavy even empty, and much worse when filled. Forced by Logan’s demands, Evan had no choice but to haul water, needing to meet Logan’s quota within the time limit or else lose his meal provided by the manor. While cultivators could gradually transcend hunger as their cultivation advanced, Evan was nowhere near that stage, so hunger was the best punishment for him. He could only start with smaller loads and slowly carry them back.
Days passed bit by bit. Evan’s life in the manor was nothing but planting herbs, hauling water, chopping wood—no different from a mortal’s existence. Unlike others who could cultivate at night, this was Evan’s greatest pain. As time went on, everyone came to know him, and so the manor gained a new title for him: the real waste.
Time flew by; two years passed in the blink of an eye. Evan was now thirteen, his body growing strong and looking like a young man. In these two years, he only kept close with Tiger Sun and Ryan Li; as long as the others didn’t bully him, that was enough. Aside from life in the manor, he would often sneak out to check on his father. Elder Lee had told him two years ago that Liam could be cured in a year or two, but every time Evan saw his father lying silent and unmoving, he could only swallow his worries and return to his chores.
Today, Evan was walking through the manor, heading toward the herb field to check on his plants, when a voice rang out behind him: "Waste, how are the herbs you planted today?"
Evan instantly knew who it was. He turned and replied, "Steward Logan, I’ve planted all your herbs in the empty plot just as you asked. They should all be able to survive now."
"Oh? Then I’d like to see for myself." Logan walked ahead, expression unchanged, toward the patch of newly planted herbs.
Watching Logan’s back, Evan couldn’t even count how many times he’d been tormented by him, nor how many nights he’d wanted to leave this cursed place. Yet every time he thought of his father here, he had to swallow his anger. His hatred for Logan only grew, and he loathed those disciples who always called him a waste.
Of course, Logan had no idea what Evan was thinking. He arrived at the herb patch and looked at the neatly planted rows. Logan couldn’t help but admire that this boy had mastered herb-planting techniques in just two years—skills that had taken Logan himself many years to learn. Evan even knew how to control the moisture, never letting the soil get too wet or too dry. Thinking back to his own slow progress, Logan secretly admitted he was inferior, but outwardly he feigned anger and shouted, "Look at this! What are you planting? This is a mess! Go find these herbs and plant them!" With that, he flung his sleeve and stormed off in a huff.