Lu Chenyuan's blood ran cold at Shen Yue's whispered warning. Her hand gripped his arm with uncharacteristic firmness, her usual calm replaced by something raw and primal. "There," she repeated, eyes locked on a dense thicket of gnarled rhododendrons and shadowed ferns at the far end of the clearing. "The Wood Qi is stirring. It's alive—and it's watching us."
He didn't doubt her for a moment. His own Fifth Layer Qi Refinement gave him a general sense of the grove's abundance, but Shen Yue's budding Wood Spirit affinity attuned her to nuances he couldn't begin to perceive. If she felt a presence, it was there.
"Slowly," Lu Chenyuan murmured, his voice barely more than breath amid the hush of rustling leaves. He eased her back a step, shifting slightly in front of her. His fingers found the familiar hilt of the chipped utility knife at his belt—not much of a weapon, but something to hold onto. "What do you feel? Is it hostile?"
Shen Yue closed her eyes. Her brow tightened, and the faint emerald sheen that sometimes clung to her presence brightened almost imperceptibly. "It's… territorial," she said quietly. "Not hostile, but wary. Curious, even. It feels deeply tied to this place—to the ironwood, the moss. Like a guardian."
A guardian. Not a beast on the hunt, then, but a sentinel. That changed everything. A predator could be baited, distracted. A guardian might be reasoned with, or at least predicted.
"Can you tell how strong it is?" he asked, pushing his senses to their limit as he scanned the thicket, hunting for any telltale sound or movement.
"It's like concentrated Wood Qi," Shen Yue whispered. "Stronger than me. Maybe… Fourth or Fifth Layer, if I had to compare. But it's different. Wilder. Ancient. And I think it's small. Not a massive beast."
A spiritual creature, then—one nurtured by the purity of this grove. Lu Chenyuan's thoughts spun. They were here for Moonpetal Leaf seeds, not to provoke conflict with something attuned to this land. Especially not something strong.
"Then we avoid confrontation," he said, low and firm. "Our goal is the Moonpetal Leaf. According to the Azurewood Art, they often grow near places of harmony—sometimes even under a guardian's care. Its presence may mean we're close."
He glanced at her. "We'll proceed, but carefully. Stay alert. If its mood shifts, I want to know instantly. We'll search near the moss, as far from the thicket as we can get and still be near the tree."
Shen Yue nodded. Her fear had ebbed, replaced by a quiet focus. Between her insight and his caution, they had learned how to move as one.
They slipped into motion, fluid and silent. The Silverthread Moss shimmered faintly, draped over the ironwood's roots like strands of starlight in the dim grove. Lu Chenyuan scanned the underbrush methodically, lifting ferns, inspecting damp soil, his eyes keen for crescent-shaped leaves or seed pods. Shen Yue did the same, but kept a thread of her awareness anchored to the thicket.
The air was thick with the scent of loam, damp bark, and something sharp and green—an almost sacred stillness pressing in on all sides. Every step, every shift of foliage, seemed to echo too loudly in the grove's charged hush.
An hour passed. No sign of the Moonpetal. The silence began to press harder, and with it came the quiet gnawing of doubt. Lu Chenyuan's earlier spark of hope flickered.
Then Shen Yue inhaled sharply. He spun, knife drawn. "What is it?"
Her eyes were wide, fixed on the thicket. "It's moving," she said, her voice a hushed tremor. "The guardian. It's coming."
His pulse surged. He pulled her behind him instinctively, placing his body between her and the dark foliage. Tension coiled in him like a drawn bowstring.
And then—movement.
Not the hulking stride of a bear or the serpentine slither of a predator, but something smaller. A creature stepped into the light, its form unexpected and strangely serene. It looked like a large wooden squirrel, about two feet long, with fur composed of intricately woven vines and moss. Its eyes gleamed amber, sharp with awareness. From its small form radiated a deep, steady pulse of pure Wood Qi.
A Wood Sprite.
Lu Chenyuan exhaled slowly. These creatures were rare—reclusive tenders of ancient forests, bound to the roots and breath of the wild.
The sprite paused, studying them. No hostility, only wariness. Its vine-like whiskers twitched as it assessed them in silence.
"It's… beautiful," Shen Yue whispered, her fear melting into wonder.
Lu Chenyuan kept his guard. Beautiful or not, it was still a creature of formidable strength. "Stay still. Let's see what it wants."
The sprite took another step, tilting its head slightly. Its amber gaze drifted to Shen Yue. Then, it chirped—a soft, melodic sound, like bamboo chimes stirred by the wind.
Shen Yue gasped again, but not from fear. "Chenyuan," she whispered, eyes wide, "I think I understand it. Not the words exactly, but the feeling. It's not hostile. It's… curious. It senses my Qi."
He glanced between her and the sprite. Of course. Her unique affinity allowed her to commune in ways he couldn't. If they were to get anywhere, it would be through her.
"What does it want to know?" he asked.
"It feels the Azurewood Art in you," she said, brow furrowed in concentration. "And something deeper in me—my Wood Spirit Qi. It… it feels a kinship. It wants to know why we're here. It's protective of this place. Especially the moss and… something it called 'moon-kissed tears.'"
Lu Chenyuan's breath caught. That had to be it. The Moonpetal.
"Ask it," he urged. "Are the 'moon-kissed tears' plants? Crescent-shaped leaves?"
Shen Yue closed her eyes again. A soft emerald aura shimmered around her as she reached out, her spirit brushing against the sprite's. The creature didn't flinch. Instead, its chirping slowed, deepened.
After a moment, Shen Yue opened her eyes, face alight with quiet wonder. "Yes. They're plants. Leaves shaped like a new moon. Rare and precious. It guards them—and says they only bear seed under the full moon, in perfect stillness."
Lu Chenyuan's heart surged. They were close. Closer than he'd dared hope.
"Tell it we mean no harm," he said, carefully. "Tell it we're of the Azurewood line. That we revere Wood Qi. That we seek only a few seeds—not to plunder, but to protect their legacy."
This was delicate work. Shen Yue breathed deeply, grounding herself. Her aura pulsed again, twining with the sprite's as she sent her intent like a whispered truth through the still air.
The sprite listened, silent and still, then took a few steps forward. It stopped only ten feet from them, eyes shifting from Shen Yue to the basket in her hand. One last chirp—softer, melodic—and then it turned and darted toward the ironwood, disappearing beneath the roots, near a patch of Silverthread Moss glowing brighter than before.
"What did it say?" Lu Chenyuan asked, tension still wound tight in his chest.
Shen Yue's voice trembled with cautious hope. "It said the Azurewood aura is old. Familiar. If our hearts are sincere… it will show us. It wants us to follow."
To trust a wild spiritual beast, based on a connection only Shen Yue could interpret—it was madness. But also their best chance.
Lu Chenyuan looked at her. Really looked. The girl who had once shied from the world now stood poised, her eyes steady with newfound strength.
"Then we follow," he said. "But stay sharp. Trust what you feel."
Together, they stepped into the grove's hidden heart, chasing a whisper of trust through the shadows. The forest watched in silence, and far above, the branches stirred—bearing witness to the fragile promise unfolding beneath their ancient boughs.