Wei Changsheng climbs a narrow pine-lined mountain path before dawn, face fully visible to camera in 3/4 view, mourning-white robes damp at the hem, dark blue sash tight, black hair tied low with a bone pin. He grips old wooden prayer-beads

Panel 1: A crooked wooden hut sits among exposed tree roots, herb bundles under the eaves, smoke leaking from a clay chimney. Wei stands at the threshold and bows. Panel 2: Master Lu Hui appears in the doorway, 3/4 face visible to camera, t

Panel 1: Inside the smoky apothecary, drying roots hang from rafters; Lu Hui's knotted fingers press Wei's pulse while her pipe points at his sleeve. Panel 2: Wei lowers his eyes, the prayer-beads partly visible in his palm, his face strain

Panel 1: Wei bows until his sleeves touch the packed earth floor, spine rigid, hair knot neat despite the climb. Panel 2: Lu Hui turns toward the rear exit of the hut, pipe smoke cutting across her wrinkled profile.

Behind the apothecary, Lu Hui and Wei stand before a square of black soil bordered by old stones and white ash. The plot is completely empty. Pine mist hangs low; the world is quiet except for a thread of smoke from Lu Hui's pipe.

Panel 1: Wei kneels at the edge of the empty plot, white robe hem spreading over wet ground. Panel 2: Tight close-up on his long fingers trembling around the worn wooden prayer-beads, the beads old and dark from years of touch.

Tight close-up of Wei Changsheng's face, eyes lowered and wet, lips parted but unable to form a full sentence. The bone pin is visible at the back of his low knot. A single tear trembles at his lower lash line.

Panel 1: A prayer-bead slips between Wei's fingers. Panel 2: A tear falls from his chin in a clean drop. Panel 3: The tear hits the black soil, making a small dark circle that spreads into the ash.

Panel 1: Wei's shoulders shake as he kneels over the soil, tears falling freely, forehead nearly touching the ground. Panel 2: Lu Hui stands several steps behind him, pipe lowered, her sharp eyes narrowed but unreadable, no words spoken.

Panel 1: The black soil bulges upward in a small mound. Panel 2: The white ash border cracks in nine fine lines. Panel 3: A jade-green shoot pierces the soil, wet with earth and tearwater.

The Nine-Bow Filial Root rises from the soil: one pale jade root body with nine slender stems arching downward like bowed heads. Wei kneels before it, tears still on his face, hands hovering as if afraid to touch it. Lu Hui remains in the m