I crouched before the Bloodsoul Bloom, hands on my knees, eye to eye; if it even had eyes. Coughing lightly in my hand to clear my throat, I began to speak.
“Alright,” I murmured. “Let’s try this again.”
The plant, to its credit, didn’t immediately lash out or eat my face. A win, all things considered.
“I know you’re… not like the others.” I cleared my throat. “I can’t hear you the way I can hear the hybrids. You don’t offer recipes or gently whisper suggestions into my soul.”
Silence. Not even a twitch of the petals.
“I’m not asking for much,” I continued. “A gesture. A hum. A leaf wiggle? Maybe something ominous but meaningful?”
Still nothing.
I glanced around, then leaned in, lowering my voice like I was conspiring with it. “I fed you. Clean offerings. Balanced essence. You’ve been good. I’ve been so good. So if you have anything to say, now’s the time.”
I closed my eyes and reached out with Nature’s Attunement.
And immediately felt…
…awkward.
There was no guidance. No whisper. Not even that quiet hum of potential I got from the kudzu or moss. Just a prickling silence. In contrast to when I first attempted to commune with the sample from the forest, this one was mute.
I opened my eyes. “Right. Of course.”
I turned and caught the blurred outlines of three villagers peering into the greenhouse from outside.
One woman quickly looked away. Another nudged her companion and whispered something. I didn’t even have to strain my senses to catch it anymore.
“Poor Kai. The stress is getting to him.”
“Talkin’ to plants now. Spirits help him.”
My shoulders slumped.
“…Great.”
I gave the Bloom a long look. “You could’ve said something. Saved me the humiliation.”
It didn’t respond.
I shook my head, letting out a sigh. “Guess it’ll take more time before you start whispering back.”
I moved to the vacant bed where I’d harvested the Calming Lotus. The soil was still warm. Still brimming with life.
But there was one constant.
The hybrids couldn’t reproduce on their own. Every seed had to be created from scratch, through essence infusion and careful balance. It was utterly unscalable.
I pulled a new set of ordinary lotus seeds from my pouch, laid them in a neat row, and began the process. They'd require one last infusion of jujube essence to start growing into the hybrids I needed.
One by one, they accepted the infusion and changed ever so slightly. Their casings cracked with fine fractures, and I planted them into the fresh Spirit Soil.
Then, just as I was brushing the last bit of soil into place—
A ripple. A voice.
Subtle.
But not mine.
Not Tianyi’s either. Our bond had a feeling to it; soft, emotional. This was different. Coarser. Murkier. Not quite thought. Not quite speech. But it brushed against my mind like a cold finger across glass.
I stood up sharply, heart skipping.
My eyes turned, almost against my will, to the Bloodsoul Bloom.
The petals had opened slightly wider.
And through that fog of silence, I heard a single word.
'Hungry.'
I froze.
Before I could parse what it meant—whether it was a warning, a plea, or just a reflex of instinct—
“Kai!”
Han Chen’s voice tore through the moment like a blade. He burst through the greenhouse door, boots splashing into wet soil, eyes wild and breath ragged.
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Frustration flared in my chest—I’d been so
close. But one look at his face cut that thought clean in half.Just raw urgency. And fear.
My gut twisted.
“Speak,” I said, stepping toward him.
The longhouse was gloomy.
I stepped in behind Han Chen, and saw the Verdant Lotus disciples stood in tense clusters. A few had their hands pressed in futile mudras, trying to rest without accelerating the plague within themselves.
Yu Long lay in the far corner, his form barely recognizable beneath layers of blankets. The moment I saw him, my breath caught.
His skin had taken on a sickly violet hue, darker around the fingers, ears, and throat. His lips were dry. His chest rose and fell too quickly. His pulse beat like a trapped bird’s wing beneath his skin. Was it the fact he was already fighting off the previous corruption? With his qi cycling fervently to help him recover, it unknowingly progressed the plague to this extent?
Han Chen knelt beside him, jaw clenched tight.
“The regular medicines... they didn’t work.” he said, not looking at me. “He slipped deeper.”
I didn’t respond. I crossed the room and took Yu Long’s hand.
It was cold.
But more than that; I could feel the conflict inside. Qi and blood at odds. The plague had sunk in deep. Past the skin. Past the muscle. Into the marrow. There was no treating this with the moss, which could only treat the early stages. Or the calming lotus, that only slowed the acceleration and alleviated pain.
It had progressed to mid-stage. Too far for comfort. Too late for hesitation.
And yet—
I closed my eyes. Let my consciousness stretch inward, tracing the lines of qi that still flickered within Yu Long’s body.
No unique mutations. No hidden allergies. No strange spiritual conditions. His cultivation foundation was weak, but stable. His constitution plain.
That was the strange mercy of it.
He was compatible.
If I used the hybrid wolfsbane, it would work.
My gut told me that. Every calculation in my Manifold Memory Palace confirmed it.
It was tailored. Specific. Not a general cure, but a precise one, optimized for Yu Long’s body, his qi his cultivation stage. And therein lay the problem.
Anyone could, in theory, be cured with this level of personal tuning. But I couldn’t tailor cures for fifty villagers. Or five. Not with the hybrids needing days to grow. Not with my qi draining faster than I could recover it.
That was what I’d been trying to build these past few weeks.
Not a cure.
The cure.
One that worked for all.
But the wolfsbane was still days from maturity. Its roots weren’t even developed. Its potency incomplete.
Unless I forced it. Pushed it to grow. Used my own qi to nurture it into bloom.
I wouldn’t even need to think about it. I could do it with one pulse of intent. A single breath. I’d done it before.
But it wouldn’t be a low-effort nudge. This would take a significant portion of energy. Essence Awakening or not, I would be pouring all of myself into accelerating its growth. That I knew would backlash.
And I knew what that meant. To cycle my qi when the Amethyst Plague was coming.
I could save Yu Long.
But the price... If I failed, if I collapsed from qi deviation, from backlash, from sickness—then there would be no cure. Not for the village. Not for Tianyi. Not for Windy.
Because nobody else could do what I was doing. Not Jian Feng. Not the Verdant Lotus. Not Elder Ming.
Just me.
I was more important than Yu Long now.
And yet…
I looked down at him. This boy, whose senior brother had wept in silence every night, who had risked everything just by being brought to Gentle Wind. The very reason Han Chen fought so hard. Drenched his hands in the blood of innocents.
I felt it all at once.
The helplessness. The pressure. The guilt. That if I didn’t act, if I let him die, I’d never forgive myself. That I’d see his face again and again in every quiet moment, every failure.
My knees went weak.
I staggered back a step, nausea curling in my gut like smoke.
“I—” I whispered. “I can…”
My voice caught.
Everyone was watching me. Even Han Chen now.
But I couldn’t speak.
I didn’t know what the right thing was.
The cure existed—but not in my hands. Not yet.
And all I had to do was give up a piece of myself to reach it. A gamble.
One life, certain.
Or many, uncertain.
I breathed in. Shallow. Shaky.
My mind branched out, the Manifold processing the risks, the probable consequences, exactly how much strain it would place on my body if I accelerated the wolfsbane now. It would leave me winded. If I pushed too hard, it could rupture the inner linings of my meridians;
I knew the worst-case scenarios.
And yet...
Another thread of thought. The quieter one.
What kind of person builds the perfect cure... by stepping over the bodies of those they could’ve saved?
Was that a sacrifice I was willing to make?
Would I look Tianyi in the eye, after all this, and say I chose not to save him, because I wanted to say for certain I could save her?
Would I want to live in the world I was trying to save... if that world required me to watch someone die when I could have stopped it?
A shiver ran through me.
I remembered what I told Ren Zhi.
"I’m not trying to be a hero. Not anymore."
And that was still true. I didn’t want to be worshipped. I didn’t want to be the center of anything. But...
I looked again at Yu Long.
He was someone’s whole world.
A person.
Not a variable.
Not a footnote.
Just a boy. Fevered, still fighting. Still here.
My heart steadied.
I turned to Han Chen.
His eyes were bloodshot. He didn’t speak. Didn’t beg. He just looked at me like a man who had already accepted death once... and was trying to hold it off for someone else.
“I’ll be back by night,” I said quietly.
Han Chen’s jaw clenched. He nodded once.
I left the longhouse without looking back.
The air in my shop was still.
Tianyi stirred faintly in her sleep, her wings twitching. Windy shifted in his coils. They were resting now. Safe, for the moment.
I sat down, summoned the Manifold, and let my thoughts split and bloom once more.
A cure.
Not universal. But tailored. Built to match Yu Long’s condition. Aimed directly at the stage of his infection and the fragility of his marrow now half-stained with violet.
I modeled the cure. Two variations. Ran simulations on essence volatility, it's likelihood of curing him. Adjusted again.
The antidote didn’t need to cure everything.
It just needed to bring him back.
By the time I sealed the last calculations, the moon was high.
My supplies were measured. The recipe checked dozens of times. The Two Star Pagoda Pill Furnace stored within my storage ring. All that remained—
Was the wolfsbane.
I stepped into the greenhouse. The stalk still half-grown. The leaves not yet sharp. Its qi potential buried like fire beneath ice.
I placed a hand to the soil, exhaled, and began.
One pulse.
Qi rushed from my dantian into the plant, coiling through root and fiber, coaxing the hybrid wolfsbane to rise.
I poured my breath into it. My strength. Not recklessly—but willingly.
The stalk trembled. Then straightened.
Petals bloomed. A dusky violet, just like the plague it would answer.
I smiled, just barely.
Then, swaying, I pulled the stalk from the ground and placed it in my satchel.
I took one last look at the Bloodsoul Bloom as I passed.
It didn’t move. Didn’t whisper.
But the feeling lingered.
'Hungry.'
The walk back to the longhouse was quiet.
The mist had begun to settle low over the village, clinging to rooftops and curling around lamplight like smoke. My boots sank slightly into damp earth with each step. The wolfsbane weighed heavier in my satchel than it should have.
When I stepped inside, Han Chen hadn’t moved an inch.
Neither had Yu Long.
Jian Feng glanced up from the far wall and approached as I crossed the threshold. He whispered low, just beneath breath.
“Is this really okay?”
'Is it worth the cost?'
I’d already asked it of myself.
“It’ll be okay,” I said.
I didn’t say I’m not stupid; because I was, in some ways. But I was prepared. Not reckless. Not anymore.
Even as I moved, I could feel it: my qi trying to replenish itself, instinctively drawing from the dregs of what remained to rebuild my core reserves.
And with that cycling came the price.
The Plague moved with it.
Slow. Subtle. But present.
I coughed once into my sleeve. It didn’t rattle, not yet. But it would. Sooner than I wanted.
I pulled a vial from my robe, the Calming Lotus concoction.
One drop on the tongue.
A warm stillness crept through me at once, like silk wrapping my organs, slowing the tide. My breath eased. My qi settled. Not healed, but stilled.
I turned to Han Chen.
“I’m going to begin,” I said. “It may not work. Be prepared… if it doesn’t.”
Han Chen said nothing. But he bowed low, forehead to floor. Unheard of for a cultivator of his stature.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
There was nothing else to say.
I stepped forward.
Set down the Two Star Pagoda Pill Furnace. The metal clunked dully against the stone floor, the sound oddly final.
Laid out my tools.
My tray.
The ingredients. A single drop of Bloodsoul Bloom essence. Lotus rhizomes. Skullcaps. Distilled water. Astralagus.
And the wolfsbane.
Fresh. Still warm from the qi I’d given it. Still pulsing with life.
I ran my hands over the furnace.
One breath.
Then I ignited it.
The Alchemical Nexus bloomed around the base in steady rings, glowing softly with a golden hue.
I opened the Refinement Simulation Technique.
The diagrams flooded my mind.
'No mistakes.'