Time had passed.
The room was quiet—so quiet that even the formations seemed to hum more softly, as if unwilling to disturb what rested within.
On the table, the lizard stirred.
Its body slowly loosened from where it had been coiled around the storage pouch, coils unwrapping one by one as its eyes opened.
Wide.
Blank.
Fog clung stubbornly to its vision—shapes blurred, edges smeared, the world reduced to shifting patches of light and shadow.
As it shifted, its tail brushed against an empty wine jar.
*Tap.*
The jar rolled off the table.
Instead of shattering, it struck the floor and **bounced once**, then wobbled before settling to a stop, its spirit-glass miraculously intact.
The sound echoed softly through the room.
The lizard froze.
It remained perfectly still, head tilted slightly as it tried to process the space around it. Its breathing was steady now—stronger than before. The constant ache that had plagued it was gone. The bleeding had long since stopped.
But its sight…
Still hazy.
Still wrong.
It blinked once. Then again.
No improvement.
A faint warmth pulsed through its body as the last remnants of refined wine continued their work, quietly repairing what they could—but eyes, touched by the soul and deeply damaged, healed far more slowly.
The lizard stood there in silence, golden eyes unfocused, staring into a world it could not fully see.
Across the room, on the floor within the Qi-Gathering Array, the fox lay curled tightly, eyes closed, breathing slow and even. Streams of qi still drifted toward it in gentle currents, the formation humming steadily beneath its body.
The lizard did not move toward it.
Did not speak.
It simply stood where it was, taking in what little it could perceive—waiting, instinctively, for clarity that had yet to arrive.
After a heartbeat, a thought finally surfaced through the haze.
*…Did I fall asleep?*
The lizard tilted its head slightly, thoughts turning sluggishly.
*After drinking the wine… did I drink too much? Or was I just tired?*
It shifted its weight, claws scraping softly against the table's surface as it stretched. Warmth still flowed through its body—deep, steady, lingering in its bones and veins. Not the violent surge of a breakthrough, but something gentler.
Like embers that refused to die out.
*That warmth…*
*That must've been why I fell asleep.*
Its jaws opened wide as it let out a long, unrestrained **yawn**, tongue curling as its body stretched fully—wings flexing, spine arching, every muscle loosening as if waking from a very long rest.
The fog in its head thinned slightly.
Not gone—but lighter.
The lizard smacked its maw once, then slowly licked its lips.
A faint taste still lingered.
Rich.
Smooth.
Alive.
Its eyes narrowed a fraction as a thought formed with surprising clarity.
*That wine…*
*It tasted really good.*
Its tail swayed lazily once.
Only then did it seem to truly notice the scattered jars, the quiet room, the steady hum of qi gathering nearby—and, somewhere close, the presence of the fox cultivating without a sound.
The lizard remained still for a moment longer, warmth pulsing gently through its body, savoring both the aftertaste and the strange, comfortable stillness that followed.
Then it frowned—if a lizard *could* frown.
*…There was still wine, right?*
Or… was there?
It tried to recall—how many jars it had drunk, when it had stopped, whether it had even stopped at all—but the memory slipped away like mist through claws. All it remembered was warmth, satisfaction, and then nothing.
*Hmph.*
Lowering its head, it **sniffed**.
The scent was faint now, diluted and scattered—empty jars, dried traces, the lingering sweetness clinging weakly to the air. It padded slowly across the table, nose working, movements cautious yet purposeful.
Then it froze.
Just ahead—
A **single jade-green jar**, still standing.
Its surface unbroken.
Its scent *alive*.
The lizard's pupils tightened.
*There.*
Its body coiled without conscious thought.
In one smooth, precise motion, it **leapt**—a clean jump that showed none of its earlier sluggishness. It landed beside the jar, claws gripping the tabletop as its head lifted, eyes locked onto the prize.
Its tongue flicked out once.
The scent was undeniable.
*Not finished,* it thought.
*Good.*
Just like before, the lizard didn't hesitate.
Its jaws parted, teeth clicking softly as it **popped the jade jar open** with practiced ease. The seal broke, and the rich, fragrant aroma of **Spiritual Bamboo Wine** poured out once more, flooding the room with warmth and sweetness.
The lizard latched on immediately.
Tilting the jar, it let the wine **flow straight into its maw**, gulp after gulp, swallowing without pause as the liquid slid down its throat—
—
A while later, the jade jar slipped from the lizard's grasp.
It stood upright, swaying slightly, **licking its maw slowly**, tongue dragging along its teeth as if trying to scrape away the last lingering trace of flavor. Its eyes were unfocused for a moment as it sniffed the air again.
Nothing.
No rich bamboo scent.
No warmth drifting through the room.
The lizard froze.
…That was the last one.
A faint, dissatisfied rumble rose from its throat. It **wanted more**. The craving hadn't faded—if anything, it had deepened, settling into its bones like an itch it couldn't scratch.
Its head turned slowly, scanning the room.
The table.
The floor.
The scattered empty jars.
Then—suddenly—it snapped around.
Its gaze locked onto the **storage pouch**.
Without hesitation, the lizard scrambled across the tabletop, claws clicking softly against the surface. Reaching the edge, it **grabbed the pouch**, jaws clamping down tight, and then—
It **leapt**.
Wings spread instinctively, catching the air just enough to soften the fall. Its body glided a short distance before landing gently on the ground, paws steady, pouch secured.
The lizard straightened, tail swaying slowly behind it.
The craving burned quietly in its chest.
And it had no intention of stopping now.