The air at the edge of the spirit forest was different. It was thick with the scent of damp earth, decaying leaves, and the vibrant, living energy of a thousand growing things.
Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy in shifting, dappled patterns, and the cheerful chirping of birds from the city was replaced by a more complex symphony of trills, chitters, and the rustle of unseen creatures in the undergrowth.
For Ning Rongrong, it was all overwhelmingly novel. Her life had been one of polished jade, serene courtyards, and the hushed, orderly beauty of a world curated for her protection.
This untamed, breathing world was a thrilling, slightly terrifying shock to her senses. Every rustle was a mystery, every scent an undiscovered poem.
"Brother San, look!" she exclaimed, her voice a hushed, eager whisper as she pointed at a massive tree with deeply grooved bark and lobed leaves.
"What kind of tree is that? Its leaves are so strangely shaped, like a noble's heraldic symbol!" Her grip on his arm tightened, not out of fear, but with the excitement of a scholar presented with a new text.
Tang San, feeling like a walking encyclopedia but too kind-hearted to show it, followed her gaze. "That's an oak tree," he replied patiently, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the vibrant, chaotic symphony of the forest.
"Its wood is very hard and durable. Master Feng says it's one of the best for making the handles of hammers and axes because it absorbs shock without splintering. It's a tree of resilience."
"Fascinating!" Ning Rongrong breathed, storing this piece of mundane, practical knowledge away as if it were a rare cultivation technique.
A moment later, her head swiveled, large eyes searching the canopy. "And that sound? That rapid chittering from above? It doesn't sound like a bird."
Tang San didn't even need to look up. "Most likely a tree squirrel," he explained, a faint, almost nostalgic smile touching his lips. "It's warning its colony that there are intruders in its territory. They're very territorial creatures."
Xiao Wu, who had been marching a few steps ahead with her arms tightly crossed, her back radiating irritation, couldn't contain a loud, deliberate huff.
"Ugh! It's just a squirrel," she muttered, shooting a glare over her shoulder at their linked arms. "They're everywhere. Don't you have squirrels running around your fancy, walled-in sect? Or do you have servants to shoo them away?"
The jab was petty, but she couldn't help herself. Seeing Ning Rongrong so physically attached to her Brother San was like a thorn pricking her side.
Ning Rongrong, either genuinely captivated by the environment or expertly ignoring Xiao Wu's barbs, pressed on, her curiosity laser-focused on Tang San.
"And your Blue Silver Grass, Brother San," she continued, her tone laced with a determination to unravel his mysteries.
"Everyone knows it's a... well, a common spirit. But you move with it like it's an extension of your own body. How can you make it so powerful? Is it a secret technique passed down in your family? A special way you channel your spirit power?"
Tang San offered her the same small, inscrutable smile he reserved for prying teachers and overly curious classmates. It was a mask of polite neutrality, perfected over a lifetime of guarding secrets.
"There is no great secret," he said, which was both true and a complete lie.
"It's merely a matter of understanding its intrinsic nature—its flexibility, its tenacity, its connection to the earth—and then applying one's spirit power with absolute precision. A blunt tool can still make a fine cut in the right hands."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over a patch of the very grass in question growing at the base of a tree. "Every spirit, no matter how common it may seem, has its own unique potential waiting to be understood."
His words were a gentle deflection, a lesson in philosophy that revealed nothing of the Mysterious Heaven Method, or the reincarnated soul.
Meanwhile, Mei led the way, her expression one of intense concentration. In her mind, she was having a far less productive conversation.
'Ai, a little help? A direction? A hint? Anything!' she pleaded, stepping over a gnarled root. 'You said you guided it here. Where is "here"?'
Hoshino Ai's form flickered in her mental space, looking utterly unbothered.
Patience, my disciple! A star doesn't rush its entrance! You'll know it when you see it! I told you, it's rare. And it's... not in the best of health. It was quite the effort to nudge it this way, I'll have you know! The spiritual currents around here are so... unrefined.
'Not in the best of health?' Mei thought, alarmed. 'You didn't bring me a spirit beast that's on the verge of dying of old age, did you? What if it already died on the way here.'
Tsk, such a lack of faith! Ai chided. Its condition is... not that bad, so going here wouldn't be too exhausting for it. Now, less worrying, more walking! Its energy signature is getting stronger. Deeper in.
Guided by this vague and unsettling assurance, Mei led them further from the forest's edge. The playful sunlight gave way to a more muted, green-tinged light. The sounds of the forest grew deeper, more resonant.
Suddenly, Ai's voice became sharp and clear. There! Stop! It's here!
Mei froze, holding up a hand. The others stopped behind her, their playful bickering ceasing as they sensed her tension. Tang San's eyes scanned their surroundings instantly, his body coiling with readiness.
Xiao Wu fell into a slight crouch, and Ning Rongrong finally released Tang San's arm, her face a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Mei's gaze swept the small clearing they had entered. And then she saw it. Perched on a high, thick branch of an ancient tree was a large, majestic bird. Its feathers were a stunning, iridescent blend of sapphire and emerald, and its sharp, intelligent eyes glowed with a fierce golden light. It looked powerful, healthy, and utterly predatory—a perfect, vigorous spirit beast.
'Ai! You said it was rare and dying! That thing looks like it could live for another hundred years!' Mei thought, a wave of panic and confusion washing over her.
Oh, for heaven's sake, not that overgrown chicken! Ai's voice was dripping with disdain. Look closer! In its claw!
Mei's eyes, sharpened by anxiety, dropped from the bird's proud head to its talons. Clutched tightly in one fearsome claw was a much smaller, fragile-looking creature. It was difficult to make out clearly, but it seemed to have a soft, shimmering body and large, delicate wings that drooped limply. It pulsed with a faint, melodic light that was in stark contrast to the predatory vigor of the bird holding it.
Her heart sank. She turned slowly to her companions, her face pale.
"We found it," she whispered, her voice tight. "The good news is, my spirit beast is right there." She pointed a trembling finger not at the magnificent bird, but at the small, captured creature in its grasp.
"The bad news," she continued, the words tasting like ash, "is that it's about to be someone else's lunch."