01 My true form is a blade of grass. More precisely, a medicinal herb. I grew at the foot of an immortal mountain, where for a thousand years my daily routine was to bask in the sun and drink dew. I got plenty of photosynthesis and, along the way, cultivated an immortal body. Others became immortals through fate, connections, or extraordinary talent. I became one thanks, basically, to photosynthesis. Just then, a war broke out across the Six Realms, and the fighting was spectacular. With the attitude of, "Well, since I'm already here," I lent a hand healing the wounded immortal soldiers. It was my built-in talent, after all. Healing came naturally, and I didn't even have to learn any extra skills. When the battle was over and they took stock, I'd saved at least eighty or ninety immortal soldiers,
