The Lin Branch Estate was a sprawling fortress of white-washed stone and azure roof tiles, designed to mimic the cool, serene aesthetic of the high-mountains, its walls rising like silent guardians against the encroaching wilderness. As the heavy carriage wheels ceased their rolling, the air in the courtyard felt charged, a subtle hum of ambient Qi stirring the leaves of nearby spirit-plum trees. The scent of ozone from the Gale-Stride horses mingled with the crisp fragrance of Winter-Plum blossoms that lined the walkways, their petals glowing faintly under the midday sun, releasing a calming essence meant to soothe arriving guests but doing little to ease the underlying tension. Guards in polished armor stood at attention, their spears crossed in formal salute, while servants hovered in the shadows, ready to attend but invisible until called.
Lin Bo, the Branch Head, stood at the entrance alongside his primary wife, Madame Su, her graceful figure clad in flowing silks that whispered with each breath, and his eldest son, Lin Chen, whose lean, wiry build spoke of disciplined training rather than brute force. Behind them stood Butler Ji, a man whose face was as wrinkled as a dried peach but whose eyes were sharp with administrative coldness, his slender hands clasped behind his back. The family presented a united front, their auras suppressed in deference, but the air crackled with anticipation and unspoken fears.
The carriage door opened with a soft hiss, releasing a wave of refined Qi that made the blossoms tremble. Xiong Kaun stepped out first, his imposing stature dominating the space, his broad shoulders and densely muscled arms straining against his armor as he scanned the courtyard with vigilant eyes. Then came Butler Ja, clutching his talisman satchel tightly, his lanky form moving with precise caution. Followed by Lady Yin Ji, who descended with the poise of an empress, her elegant silhouette radiating authority despite the grief etched in her features. Finally, Lin Shan stepped out, moving slowly, his towering height accentuated by a slight stoop, leaning slightly into the air as if the very gravity of the town was a burden he could scarcely bear, his chiseled jaw clenched against the pain.
"Welcome, Young Master! Welcome, Sister!" Lin Bo bowed low, his voice trembling with a mix of pride and terror, his robes pooling around him like spilled ink.
"Spare the pleasantries, Brother," Lady Yin Ji said, her eyes scanning the fortifications with a critical gaze, her slender hands clasped tightly. "Is the security tight? My son needs absolute quiet for his meridians to settle." Her tone brooked no delay, her presence commanding the space.
Butler Ji stepped forward, bowing to Lady Yin Ji with practiced deference, his wiry frame bending like a reed. "Of course, My Lady. I am leading the tour of the estate myself. We have cleared the Eastern Wing and the Blue Lotus Pavilion for your exclusive use." His voice was smooth, honed from years of managing the estate's intricacies.
The Tour: Questions and Shadows unfolded as they walked through the corridors of polished blackwood, the floors echoing softly underfoot, the group watched by dozens of maids and butlers who pressed themselves against the walls, heads bowed in submission but eyes darting toward the legendary "Calamity Sovereign" with a mix of awe and pity. The walls were adorned with scrolls depicting ancient Lin ancestors wielding thunder, a reminder of the family's storied past.
"The walls," Butler Ja noted, tapping his spectacles as he adjusted them on his narrow nose. "Are they reinforced with [Earth-Shield Arrays]? This town is close to the mountain; we cannot have beast-tides or assassins breaching the silence." His lanky fingers gestured to the stone, probing for weaknesses.
"The arrays were updated last moon," Butler Ji answered smoothly, his sharp eyes meeting Ja's. "The stone is infused with granite-powder and spirit-sand. Even an Early Foundation attack would only leave a scratch." He led them onward, his steps measured.
"And the water supply?" Xiong Kaun rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, his powerful legs striding with controlled force. "Does it flow from the mountain or a well? I must ensure no one can introduce [Qi-Corroding toxins] into the Young Master's bath." His broad chest expanded with each breath, his presence a living barrier.
"The water is piped directly from the Heaven-Mirror Spring up-slope," Lin Bo assured him, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his brow. "It is filtered through charcoal and jade-chips. It is the purest in the county." He glanced at his son, Lin Chen, who nodded subtly, his wiry arms crossed.
"Good," Lady Yin Ji whispered, her eyes softening as she glanced at her son, who was staring blankly at a passing koi pond, the fish's graceful movements a stark contrast to his labored steps. "He needs to soak. The friction in his roots is... unbearable at night." Her words hung heavy, a mother's anguish veiled in command.
They arrived at the Blue Lotus Pavilion, a stunning structure sitting in the middle of a private lake, its bridges arching elegantly over the water, the surface dotted with glowing blue lotuses that pulsed with subtle Qi. Unbeknownst to everyone except the architect, a Low-Tier Spirit Vein sat directly beneath the pavilion's foundation, leaking a faint, stabilizing mist that made the lotuses shimmer with a haunting light, a hidden boon for recovery.
The Azure Meadow Garden, meanwhile, bloomed as the spiritual heart of the estate, a masterpiece of "Hidden Energy" landscaping where Glow-Grass acted as a carpet that pulsed blue under the shade of Whistling Willow trees, whose silver leaves made a melodic chiming sound when the wind blew, creating a symphony of calm. In a marble gazebo at the center of the garden, the rest of the branch family gathered around a low table laden with tea and delicate lavender cakes, the air sweet with their floral scent.
• The Sons: Lin Feng (the second son, a hothead with a stocky build honed from impulsive spars), Lin Tao (the scholarly third, his slender form bent over a scroll), and the youngest, Lin Mian, whose youthful, lithe physique fidgeted with energy.
• The Daughter: Lin Xiao, who was busy adjusting her silk hairpins, her graceful curves accentuated by her flowing gown.
• The Concubines: Madame Mei (sharp-tongued, her angular features mirroring her wit), and Madame Ruan (quiet and observant, her soft, rounded silhouette blending into the background).
The conversation was a frantic whisper, the chiming leaves providing a veil of privacy.
"I saw him from the balcony," Lin Xiao whispered, her face flushed as she sipped tea daintily. "He's so tall... but he looks like a ghost. Can a genius really be broken so easily?" Her words carried a mix of fascination and pity.
"Be careful with your tongue," Madame Mei snapped, her sharp eyes narrowing as she set down her cup. "A broken tiger is still a tiger. If Lady Yin Ji hears you calling him a 'ghost,' she'll have your cultivation base sealed for a month." Her angular frame leaned forward, commanding attention.
Suddenly, Maid Fi Fi ran up the garden path, her petite form darting like a sparrow, her face flushed and out of breath from the sprint. She skidded to a halt before the gazebo, curtsying hastily.
"The news! I have news!" Fi Fi gasped, her chest heaving, her simple maid's uniform disheveled.
"Speak, girl!" Madame Ruan urged, leaning forward with quiet intensity, her soft features alight with curiosity.
"The Young Master has entered the Blue Lotus Pavilion," Fi Fi reported, her eyes wide with the thrill of forbidden knowledge. "But Butler Ja was seen placing Third-Grade Warding Talismans on the doors immediately! And Xiong Kaun... he stared at Butler Ji so hard the old man almost fainted! They say the Young Master didn't speak a single word the entire time. He just stared at the Blue Lotuses." Her words tumbled out, painting the scene vividly.
"Did you see his mother?" Lin Feng asked, his brow furrowed, his stocky arms crossing over his chest.
"She looks like she's ready to execute the world, Young Master Feng," Fi Fi answered, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She's already ordered the finest medicinal baths to be prepared. But I heard the Master and Butler Ji talking... they think the Capital doctors are a week away. They're worried he won't last that long without stabilization." The revelation hung in the air, the chiming leaves suddenly ominous.
Madame Mei narrowed her eyes, her sharp tongue clicking. "A week? He'll be a mortal by then if his Qi keeps leaking. Does the Town Lord know?"
"The Town Lord is already at the gates of the Pavilion with a gift of Spirit-Refined Jade," Fi Fi said, her petite hands gesturing animatedly. "But Lady Yin Ji turned him away! She said her son will see no one until he is 'clean' of the road's dust."
The garden fell silent, the silver leaves of the Whistling Willows chiming in the breeze like a warning bell. The branch family realized that their home was no longer a quiet estate—it was a pressure cooker, and the lid was about to blow, the arrival stirring currents that could upend their fragile peace.
The silver moon hung high over the Blue Lotus Pavilion, its light reflecting off the mist-covered lake to create an ethereal, haunting glow that danced across the water like wandering spirits. Inside the central chamber, the air was thick with the scent of [Sandalwood Calm-Incense], its tendrils curling from a bronze burner, meant to soothe frayed nerves and dull spiritual pain, but the tension remained suffocating, the incense's calming vapors clashing with the raw agony in the room.
Lin Shan sat rigidly in a high-backed chair of carved iron-oak, his towering form hunched slightly, his silver eyes fixed on the floor in a vain attempt to focus beyond the torment. His jaw clenched so tightly the muscles in his neck strained like taut cables, his lean, sculpted physique—broad at the shoulders, narrowing to a defined waist—trembling subtly under his robes. To any outsider, he looked stoic—the "Calamity Sovereign" maintaining his dignity amid adversity. But Xiong Kaun, standing like a silent sentinel at his shoulder, his robust, powerfully built frame a pillar of support, could see the slight tremor in the Young Master's fingertips and the way his breath came in shallow, jagged hitches, the friction in his shattered spirit root like a branding iron held against his soul, unrelenting and merciless.
Lady Yin Ji paced the room, her silk robes rustling like dry leaves in a storm, her elegant, willowy silhouette casting long shadows in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. She suddenly stopped and turned to the group, her pale face etched with determination. "Before we departed the Imperial Jade Capital, I did not merely pack our bags. I sent a [High-Grade Jade Slip] to the Alchemy Association headquarters." Her voice was steady, but her slender hands betrayed her, twisting a jade ring on her finger.
She paused, her eyes flashing with a desperate triumph that illuminated her graceful features. "I have secured a commitment. A Grade 4 Alchemist is already en route to Mountain County." The words landed like a thunderclap in the quiet room.
The air in the room seemed to freeze, the incense smoke hanging motionless. Butler Ja dropped the talisman brush he had been cleaning, the ink staining the floor in dark blots, his lanky form jolting in surprise. Xiong Kaun's eyes widened, his heavy brow lifting in genuine shock, his sturdy legs shifting as if to brace against the news.
"A Grade 4 Alchemist?" Butler Ja stammered, his voice filled with awe, pushing up his spectacles on his narrow nose. "My Lady, even in the Capital, such masters are treated as national treasures. They only answer to the Emperor or the Sect Masters of the Great Three! To bring one to this... this border town... the cost must have been astronomical." His thin fingers trembled as he retrieved the brush.
"The cost does not matter," Yin Ji snapped, though the lines of exhaustion on her face deepened, her willowy frame straightening with resolve. "I used my personal favors and half the Yin Family's dowry reserves. They are sending Grandmaster Lu. He is a specialist in [Meridian Reconstruction]." Her gaze softened as it fell on her son, a mother's fierce love shining through.
Lin Shan looked up, his clouded silver eyes showing the first spark of emotion in days: genuine surprise that pierced through the haze of pain. "Mother... you did this? A Grade 4 Master coming here... for me?" His voice was a rasp, his defined chest rising and falling unevenly.
"For you, Shan'er," she whispered, reaching out to touch his cold cheek with her slender hand. "They expect to arrive within seven days. We only need to keep you stabilized until then." Her words were a lifeline, clinging to hope amid the storm.
"Seven days..." Lin Shan rasped, attempting to stand, but a sudden spike of agony from his Dantian made his vision go black for a split second, his sculpted limbs faltering. He masked the wince with a deep breath, but Xiong Kaun was already there, a massive hand steadying his elbow with gentle strength.
"Kaun," Lin Shan whispered, his voice thick with a fatigue that went deeper than bone, leaning on the bodyguard's solid arm.
"Yes, Young Master?" Xiong Kaun rumbled, his robust form a steady anchor.
"Help me to my chamber. I... I need to try to find sleep. If it exists for a man like me." His silver eyes dimmed again, the spark fading under the weight.
"At once, Young Master," Xiong Kaun replied, his deep voice steady. He looked at Lady Yin Ji and Butler Ja, his expression grim, the silent dialogue between the mother and the bodyguard—a look of shared grief and the heavy weight of hope placed on a master who was still a week away—passing in an instant.
"Sleep well, my son," Yin Ji said, her voice cracking as she watched them go. "The Grandmaster is coming. Hold on."
Xiong Kaun carefully hoisted Lin Shan's arm over his broad shoulders, taking as much of the Young Master's weight as he could without bruising his pride, his sturdy legs bearing the load effortlessly. They walked slowly down the corridor toward the private sleeping quarters, the moonlight casting elongated shadows that danced like mocking phantoms.
"You're doing well, Shan," Xiong Kaun whispered privately as they moved, his rumble low and reassuring. "Most men would have screamed their lungs out by now. Your willpower... it's still that of a Sovereign." His words were meant to bolster, drawing from their long bond.
"Willpower won't knit a shattered root, Kaun," Lin Shan replied with a bitter, hollow chuckle that echoed faintly in the hall. "But I'll stay alive for seven more days. I want to see if a Grade 4 legend can actually stitch a ghost back together." His steps faltered slightly, but he pressed on, the pavilion's spirit vein pulsing beneath, offering a faint comfort.
As they disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, the low-tier spirit vein beneath the pavilion pulsed faintly, as if sensing the dying embers of the lightning king's power, the night deepening around the estate.
The workshop was quiet, the air still shimmering from the spatial ripples left behind by Sing Lee's departure, the bronze vat's crimson slurry cooling with faint bubbles popping on the surface. Alex stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the distant, azure-roofed silhouette of the Lin Estate, the moon casting a silver veil over the town.
Sun Ki hopped onto a nearby shelf, his gold-streaked feathers rustling with residual energy from his flight. "Master, why did you create Sing Lee all of a sudden?" the crow rasped, tilting his head curiously. "You've been fine with just the three of us for years."
"I cannot move to receive the Grade 3 materials right now, Ki," Alex replied, his voice a calm, low vibration that resonated in the dim space. "There are too many eyes watching this shop—the City Lord, the four branch families, and the shadows from the Capital. If I step out, the balance breaks. That is why I created her. She will move where I cannot." His eyes remained on the estate, calculating the threads of fate.
"Oh, I see," Sun Ki cackled, his beak clicking. "A ghost for the weaver." His ember eyes gleamed with approval.
"And for you," Alex continued, turning to the Fire-Crow with a measured gaze, "I have a different task. Go back to the Blue Lotus Pavilion. Go to Lin Shan's bedroom. He will be awake; that level of friction in his roots makes sleep a luxury he cannot afford. Tell him this: If he can survive the next month of that agony, he truly belongs in our world. Tell him he must wait until I decide the time is right to move."
Sun Ki flapped his wings, trailing red sparks that danced in the air. "Master, what are you cooking up? This sounds like you're playing a very long game of chess." His raspy voice held a note of excitement.
Alex gave a thin, dangerous smile that didn't reach his eyes, his fingers twitching as if pulling unseen strings. "Oh, nothing. I just want to move my pieces across the board for a moment."
Sun Ki let out a sharp, mocking laugh, his feathers igniting briefly. "All right, Master! Then I'll go back to that place." With a burst of flame, he launched out the window, vanishing into the night.
Location: Lin Branch Estate
Setting: Blue Lotus Pavilion – Lin Shan's Bedroom
The silver moon hung high, casting cold shadows across the silk-draped room, the lake outside murmuring softly as mist rose from its surface. Lin Shan sat cross-legged atop his bed, his towering form rigid against the pain, sweat soaking his black hair as he tried to meditate, his jaw clenched tightly. The pain was a jagged, electrical fire in his Dantian—the feeling of his Heavenly Thunder Root slowly dying, each pulse a reminder of his fall.
Swoosh.
A streak of red-gold light blurred through the open window, landing with a soft click on the mahogany table. Lin Shan's silver eyes snapped open, his instincts flaring despite the agony. He turned his head slowly, his muscles trembling from the effort, forcing himself off the bed with gritted teeth, limping heavily toward the table on legs that felt like lead. He slumped into a chair, staring at the bird with wary surprise.
"A crow?" he rasped, his voice thick with agony, reaching out with his weakened senses to probe the creature. "Hey, little guy... where did you come from?"
Sun Ki's eyes flared like dying embers, puffing out his chest indignantly, his feathers ruffling. "Who are you calling 'little,' you hairless monkey?!" Sun Ki roared, his voice raspy and sharp, echoing in the room. "I am not little! I am the Sun King Ki! You better show me some respect, hairless monkey, or I'll burn those silver eyes right out of your head!" His talons scraped the table, sparks flying.
Lin Shan froze, his surprise cutting through the pain like a bolt. He had heard spirit beasts talk before in the Imperial Jade Capital, but this was different—artificial, stitched. [Inner Thought: This isn't a natural animal. The presence... it's refined. Stitched. This is a high-tier puppet.] "A talking puppet..." Lin Shan whispered, his shock momentarily dulling his torment. "Who is your master? Who sent you into the heart of the Lin Estate?"
"Master?" Sun Ki cackled, hopping closer until he was inches from Lin Shan's nose, his ember eyes blazing. "You aren't worthy of his name yet, 'Calamity.' My Master told me to tell you this: If you have the stones to survive another month of that glass-shredding pain in your gut, then you truly belong in our world. Until then, you're just a broken toy."
"A month?" Lin Shan gripped the table, his knuckles turning white, the wood creaking under his strength. "He thinks I can survive this for a month without help? Who is he to judge my world?" His voice rose, thunder flickering in his eyes despite the fracture.
"He's the one who decides when you're worth moving," Sun Ki mocked, his red-gold feathers glowing ominously. "You're going to have to wait until he decides it's time to come to you. Don't go dying like a dog before then—it would ruin the fun." The crow's laugh was a harsh rasp, filled with disdain.
"Wait!" Lin Shan called out as the bird began to flap its wings, his silver eyes desperate. "Is he a physician? Tell me his name!"
Sun Ki didn't answer directly, his wings spreading as he prepared to launch. "I don't answer questions from hairless monkeys! Just keep breathing, boy. The Weaver is watching." With a sudden burst of speed, Sun Ki dove out the window, vanishing into the night like a spark in the wind, leaving a trail of faint embers that faded into darkness.
Lin Shan sat in the silence, his silver eyes fixed on the empty space where the bird had been, the word "Weaver" echoing in his mind like a riddle. Despite the agony clawing at his core, a new feeling sparked in his chest—a cold, desperate hope aimed toward a man he had never even met, a shadow figure who dared to judge his endurance.
The morning sun filtered through the azure silk curtains of the pavilion, casting a serene light that mocked the turmoil within Lin Shan, the rays dancing on the polished floors like indifferent spirits. A spread of high-grade spiritual congee, steamed dragon-tail buns, and jade-leaf tea sat on the table, the steam rising in lazy curls, but the aroma only made Lin Shan's stomach churn, his appetite lost to the constant fire in his dantian.
Lady Yin Ji sat across from him, her posture impeccable but her eyes shadowed with worry, her willowy hands pouring tea with steady grace. Xiong Kaun stood by the door, his robust frame as solid as a mountain, his gaze constantly sweeping the room for threats, his powerful build a reassuring presence.
"Shan'er, you must eat," Lady Yin Ji said, her voice soft but commanding, pushing a bowl toward him. "The Grade 4 Alchemist, Grandmaster Lu, will arrive by midday tomorrow. We must ensure your body is not too weak to receive his treatment. I have already coordinated with the City Lord to clear the roads for his arrival." Her words were laced with hope, her elegant features softening as she watched him.
Lin Shan nodded mechanically, picking up a spoon with trembling fingers, but his mind was miles away, replaying the night's visitation.
[Inner Thought: A Grade 4 Alchemist... a legend of the Capital. But that bird last night... that 'Sun King Ki.' He spoke of a 'Weaver.' A man who watches from the shadows and decides if I am worth moving. The pain in my Dantian is a screaming fire, yet that bird's Master thinks I should endure it for a month. Who possesses such arrogance? And why do I feel that his words carry more weight than a Grandmaster's arrival?]
"Shan'er?" Lady Yin Ji's voice sharpened, breaking his trance, her brow furrowing. "Are you even listening? I was saying we need to prepare a list of the symptoms you feel when the lightning friction peaks."
Lin Shan snapped his head up, his silver eyes unfocused for a second before clearing. "Yes, Mother. Forgive me. I was just... thinking about the Grandmaster. It is a long journey for such a man." His voice was steady, masking the turmoil.
Xiong Kaun narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing the subtle shift in the Young Master's heart rate, his sturdy form tensing imperceptibly, but he said nothing, only tightening his grip on his spear, wondering what had changed in the air since the sun went down, the pavilion's calm a fragile illusion.
The back workshop of the Wu Physician Shop was a place of sterile cold and humming power, the air thick with the metallic tang of alchemical residues and the low buzz of spirit stones illuminating the space. Rows of silver surgical tools gleamed under the light of [Ever-Bright Spirit Stones], arranged meticulously on shelves, their edges honed to molecular sharpness. The room's walls were lined with jars of preserved organs and essences, glowing faintly with contained Qi, while the floor bore faint scorch marks from past refinements. In the center stood a stone slab, etched with binding arrays to contain volatile energies, and nearby bubbled the 100 Demon Beast Blood Bath—a thick, crimson medicinal slurry in a bronze vat, its surface roiling with heat and the essence of slain beasts, the scent heavy and primal.
Alex Wu stood over the stone slab, his expression focused and unyielding, his caramel skin illuminated by the stones' glow, his violet hair tied back to avoid interference. With a flick of his wrist, he opened his high-level spirit bag, a spatial treasure pulsing with contained void energy. A burst of cold mist erupted as the corpse of the female assassin from five years ago materialized, her body preserved in perfect stasis, her features frozen in the moment of death—pale skin, sharp amber eyes closed, her 5'8" frame lithe and athletic from a life of stealth and combat, clad in faded black garb.
Sun Ki perched on a set of iron rafters above, his glowing eyes tracking every movement with eager curiosity, his red-gold feathers flickering in the light. Shao Ye stood by the door, his athletic frame tense, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he prepared the materials Alex requested, his sword-calloused hands steady despite the late hour.
The Refinement Process began with Alex's fingers dancing in the air, releasing dozens of Gray Qi Strings from his Monochromatic Loom of Ruin, the filaments nearly invisible but humming with potent energy. They snaked into the woman's meridians like ethereal threads, probing and mapping her dormant nervous system, awakening pathways long stilled by death. The strings pulsed, injecting faint life force to stimulate muscle twitches, her fingers curling slightly as if in reflex, the air crackling with the transfer of essence.
"Master, where did you get that [Wind-Attribute Golden Eagle Core]?" Sun Ki rasped, watching as Alex pulled a shimmering, feathered orb from a jade box, its surface swirling with gust-like patterns.
"I took it from a Peak-Foundation eagle in the Nine Lotus Realm," Alex replied calmly, placing the core over the woman's heart, the orb hovering as Gray Strings anchored it. "It will give her the speed to outrun a gale." The core thrummed, wind Qi stirring the workshop's air into faint breezes.
Next, Alex produced a misty, translucent core that seemed to shift shapes like illusions in fog, its surface rippling with deceptive light.
"And that one?" Sun Ki chirped, fluttering closer, his talons clicking on the rafter. "That looks like the [Illusion White Fox Core]!"
"It is," Alex said, aligning it beside the eagle core. "Found in the depths of the Hidden Forest. It allows for the weaving of mental traps." The fox core pulsed, casting fleeting shadows on the walls.
Then came the most difficult part, the fusion that tested Alex's Fusion Spirit Root. He didn't implant them separately; instead, he channeled his unique energy, Gray Qi Strings wrapping around both cores in a tightening web, crushing them together with controlled force. The orbs resisted, wind howling and illusions flashing—phantom foxes darting across the room, gusts whipping papers—but Alex's strings compressed relentlessly, the energies clashing in a vortex of gold and white light, sparks flying as opposing attributes merged. The air thickened with pressure, Shao Ye shielding his eyes from the glare, Sun Ki cawing in excitement. With a final twist of his fingers, the cores fused into a single, swirling orb, its surface a harmonious blend of feathered mist, pulsing with combined power. Alex slid the fused core into the woman's chest cavity through a precise incision made by a Qi-thread scalpel, the flesh parting cleanly without blood, the strings stitching it shut seamlessly as the core integrated, her body jolting once as new pathways formed.
"Fusion complete," Alex whispered, his voice steady amid the hum. "One core to rule both speed and sight." The woman's chest rose slightly, artificial breath stirring.
The Blood Bath & Hardening followed, the vat's slurry bubbling more vigorously as Shao Ye helped lift the body, his strong arms supporting her weight carefully. Together, they lowered her into the 100 Demon Beast Blood Bath, the crimson liquid hissing on contact with her skin, steam rising in thick clouds scented with iron and wild essence. The moment immersion was complete, Alex channeled his Monochromatic Loom energy into the vat, Gray Strings diving into the slurry to guide the process, forcing the essence of the hundred beasts—claws, fangs, hides—into her pores. Her skin reddened, then toughened, veins bulging as blood essences coursed through, hardening her flesh to the resilience of spirit-iron, bones densifying with audible cracks, each snap echoing like breaking twigs, her limbs twitching as muscles absorbed primal strength, the slurry churning violently around her submerged form.
"Her skin must be as tough as spirit-iron," Alex noted, monitoring the transformation, strings adjusting flows to prevent overload, her body arching once in reflexive spasm before settling, the bath's color fading as essences were fully absorbed.
Awakening Sing Lee came after hours of refinement, the woman's form now glowing faintly with integrated power. Alex pulled a pair of Steel-Ribbed Fans from his treasury, elegant weapons with blades sharper than razors, folding with a metallic whisper. He placed them in her hands, the fans seeming to bond instantly, then tapped her forehead with a Qi-infused finger, strings infusing final commands.
The woman's eyes snapped open, piercing amber orbs that gleamed with artificial life. She sat up on the stone slab with a fluid, terrifying speed that made Shao Ye flinch back, her 5'8" lithe frame moving like a shadow given form.
"Sing Lee," Alex said, naming her with authority.
The puppet looked at her hands, flexing fingers that moved with unnatural precision, then at Alex, recognition flickering in her eyes. She stood up, her body blending speed and deception, fans unfolding with a snap. Unlike Gein, she didn't just understand—she spoke, her voice smooth and melodic, yet devoid of true human warmth, echoing slightly with fused core resonance.
"Master," she said, inclining her head. "I live to serve the Loom."
Sun Ki flapped his wings excitedly from above. "She talks! And she's fast! Can she do illusions now? Make me look like a dragon, Sing Lee!"
Sing Lee didn't look at the bird, her amber eyes fixed on Alex. She waved her fan slightly, and suddenly, the workshop seemed to stretch and distort, illusions weaving—phantom dragons coiling around Sun Ki, scales shimmering before vanishing in a puff of mist. For a second, Sun Ki thought the room was filled with snakes, letting out a squawk of terror until the image faded.
"Impressive," Alex said, his neutral expression showing a hint of satisfaction, the graphic refinement complete, her body now a vessel of fused power. "Sing Lee, your task is simple. You will be my 'Ghost Collector.' You will move through the shadows of Green Lotus Town and the surrounding counties. Gather the materials I have listed. If anyone interferes... show them the beauty of a nightmare."
"As you command," Sing Lee replied, her lithe form shimmering as she began to blend into the shadows of the workshop, fans folding silently, vanishing like a whisper in the night.
The workshop was quiet, the air still shimmering from the spatial ripples left behind by Sing Lee's departure, the bronze vat's crimson slurry now still and depleted, faint steam curling lazily. Alex stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the distant, azure-roofed silhouette of the Lin Estate, the moon's silver light bathing the town in an ethereal hush.
Sun Ki hopped onto a nearby shelf, his gold-streaked feathers rustling as he settled, his ember eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Master, why did you create Sing Lee all of a sudden?" the crow rasped, his head tilting with curiosity.
"I cannot move to receive the Grade 3 materials right now, Ki," Alex replied, his voice a calm, low vibration that cut through the silence. "There are too many eyes watching this shop—the City Lord, the four branch families, and the shadows from the Capital. If I step out, the balance breaks. That is why I created her. She will move where I cannot." His eyes narrowed slightly, envisioning the threads extending beyond his reach.
"Oh, I see," Sun Ki cackled, his beak clicking. "A ghost for the weaver." His raspy laugh echoed softly, approving the strategy.
"And for you," Alex continued, turning to the Fire-Crow with a deliberate gaze, "I have a different task. Go back to the Blue Lotus Pavilion. Go to Lin Shan's bedroom. He will be awake; that level of friction in his roots makes sleep a luxury he cannot afford. Tell him this: If he can survive the next month of that agony, he truly belongs in our world. Tell him he must wait until I decide the time is right to move."
Sun Ki flapped his wings, trailing red sparks that danced in the dim light. "Master, what are you cooking up? This sounds like you're playing a very long game of chess." His voice held a note of thrilled anticipation.
Alex gave a thin, dangerous smile that didn't reach his eyes, his fingers twitching as if manipulating unseen strings. "Oh, nothing. I just want to move my pieces across the board for a moment."
Sun Ki let out a sharp, mocking laugh, his feathers igniting briefly. "All right, Master! Then I'll go back to that place." With a burst of flame, he launched out the window, streaking into the night.
The morning sun filtered through the azure silk curtains of the pavilion, casting a serene light that mocked the turmoil within Lin Shan, the rays dancing on the polished floors like indifferent spirits. A spread of high-grade spiritual congee, steamed dragon-tail buns, and jade-leaf tea sat on the table, the steam rising in lazy curls, but the aroma only made Lin Shan's stomach churn, his appetite lost to the constant fire in his dantian.
Lady Yin Ji sat across from him, her posture impeccable but her eyes shadowed with worry, her willowy hands pouring tea with steady grace. Xiong Kaun stood by the door, his robust frame as solid as a mountain, his gaze constantly sweeping the room for threats, his powerful build a reassuring presence.
"Shan'er, you must eat," Lady Yin Ji said, her voice soft but commanding, pushing a bowl toward him. "The Grade 4 Alchemist, Grandmaster Lu, will arrive by midday tomorrow. We must ensure your body is not too weak to receive his treatment. I have already coordinated with the City Lord to clear the roads for his arrival." Her words were laced with hope, her elegant features softening as she watched him.
Lin Shan nodded mechanically, picking up a spoon with trembling fingers, but his mind was miles away, replaying the night's visitation.
[Inner Thought: A Grade 4 Alchemist... a legend of the Capital. But that bird last night... that 'Sun King Ki.' He spoke of a 'Weaver.' A man who watches from the shadows and decides if I am worth moving. The pain in my Dantian is a screaming fire, yet that bird's Master thinks I should endure it for a month. Who possesses such arrogance? And why do I feel that his words carry more weight than a Grandmaster's arrival?]
"Shan'er?" Lady Yin Ji's voice sharpened, breaking his trance, her brow furrowing. "Are you even listening? I was saying we need to prepare a list of the symptoms you feel when the lightning friction peaks."
Lin Shan snapped his head up, his silver eyes unfocused for a second before clearing. "Yes, Mother. Forgive me. I was just... thinking about the Grandmaster. It is a long journey for such a man." His voice was steady, masking the turmoil.
Xiong Kaun narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing the subtle shift in the Young Master's heart rate, his sturdy form tensing imperceptibly, but he said nothing, only tightening his grip on his spear, wondering what had changed in the air since the sun went down, the pavilion's calm a fragile illusion.
The lanterns in the Wu Physician Shop living quarters burned low, casting long, flickering shadows against the walls lined with shelves of herbal jars and cultivation scrolls. Alex Wu sat on the dark cedar couch, his gaze fixed on the distance, his mind weaving through the complexities of the Sovereign's Myriad Flesh-Loom and the arrival of the "Calamity" at the Lin Estate, strings of Gray Qi idly twisting between his fingers.
The silence was shattered by a streak of red and gold bursting through the window, Sun Ki's feathers still crackling with residual heat from his flight over the Blue Lotus Pavilion. He landed on the arm of the couch, his chest heaving as he relayed every detail of the conversation he had overheard—the pain of Lin Shan, the desperation of Lady Yin Ji, and the coming of the Grade 4 Alchemist—in vivid, mocking tones.
Alex's eyes snapped wide open, a sharp, calculated glint flickering in his pupils like captured lightning. He hadn't expected a Grade 4 master to be involved so soon, the news shifting his mental board. He turned his head slowly toward the Fire-Crow, his voice steady. "It's time for another puppet."
Sun Ki's wings flapped frantically in place, sparks trailing from his gold-streaked feathers like fireworks. "Really, Master? Is it really time for another puppet? Which puppet are you going to make now? An animal or another handsome man like Gein?" His raspy excitement filled the room.
The noise stirred the rest of the house. Shao Ye walked into the living room, his athletic frame silhouetted against the hallway light, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his sword-calloused hand resting on the doorframe as he yawned.
"Ki, what are you making all that noise for at this time of the night?" Shao Ye started, his voice groggy, then he stopped abruptly when he saw his master sitting upright on the couch, alert and scheming. "Master? What are you doing up so late? You should be asleep."
Sun Ki flew in front of him and landed on a nearby shelf, his ember eyes blazing. "Master says it's time for another puppet!" The crow then flew back to Alex, landing on the coffee table in front of him with a thud. "Master, do another animal just like me!"
Shao Ye looked at Alex, a flash of concern crossing his handsome, ragged-edge face, his posture straightening. "Master... if you are going to create another puppet, please don't kill anyone." His words were earnest, born from loyalty and a touch of moral hesitation.
Alex finally released himself from his deep thoughts, his gaze shifting to Shao Ye with neutral calm. "I will not kill anyone for this puppet."
Sun Ki tilted his head, his embers-colored eyes blinking in confusion. "Oh? I thought I'd be another animal just like me, Master!"
Alex looked at the crow, his expression unchanging. "No, Ki. I need this puppet to do and run errands for me. I need them to gather materials for me."
Shao Ye's eyes suddenly widened as an idea struck him—a memory he had pushed to the back of his mind surfacing like a forgotten thread. He stepped closer to the coffee table, his voice urgent. "Master! You must have forgotten the girl who tried to kill you five years ago. Remember? You put her into that High-Level Spirit Bag of yours. Remember?"
Alex went silent, his mind traveling back five years to the shadowed alley where the assassin had struck, her blade poisoned and swift, only to meet his unyielding strings. He thought for a long moment, the details resurfacing—the woman's desperate lunge, her capture, her body preserved in stasis. A cold, knowing smile touched his lips, subtle and satisfied.
"Thanks, Ye," Alex said softly, rising from the couch with fluid grace. "I almost forgot about that corpse."
The back workshop of the Wu Physician Shop transformed into a chamber of controlled chaos under the glow of [Ever-Bright Spirit Stones], their light casting harsh, unyielding illumination on the tools and vats, the air heavy with the primal scent of blood and Qi. Alex moved with surgical precision, his Gray Qi Strings already extended like extensions of his will, humming faintly as they prepared the space. Shao Ye assisted quietly, laying out instruments—scalpels of spirit-forged steel, clamps infused with binding runes—his hands steady despite the graphic nature of what was to come. Sun Ki perched above, his eyes wide with anticipation, occasionally cawing commentary.
Alex opened his high-level spirit bag once more, the void within releasing another burst of preserving mist, depositing the female assassin's corpse onto the stone slab with a soft thud. Her body lay pristine, as if death had been but a brief slumber—5'8" of lithe, agile muscle honed from years of shadowy pursuits, her skin pale and unmarked, her features sharp and amber-eyed, closed in eternal repose. No decay marred her; the bag's stasis had held her perfectly, her black garb still clinging as it had in life.
The process began with dissection, Alex's strings slicing into her chest with graphic accuracy, parting flesh without a drop of blood spilling, the incisions clean and precise, exposing the cavity where her heart once beat. The air filled with the wet, organic sounds of separation—tendons parting with soft snaps, ribs lifting away like peeled bark—non-sexual but visceral, the body yielding to his expertise like clay to a sculptor's hands. He removed inert organs methodically, strings lifting and discarding them into a waste vat, the plops echoing dully, clearing space for the fusion.
From jade boxes, Alex retrieved the cores: the [Wind-Attribute Golden Eagle Core], a feathered orb swirling with gusts that stirred the workshop's air, and the [Illusion White Fox Core], misty and shifting, casting fleeting phantoms on the walls. He aligned them above the open cavity, Gray Qi Strings encircling them in a tightening lattice. The fusion was intense—the strings compressed with relentless force, cores clashing in a maelstrom of wind howls and illusory flashes, gold and white energies grinding together with grinding screeches, sparks flying as opposing essences resisted, the air pressure building until Shao Ye braced against it. Flesh around the incision quivered from the proximity, the body's preserved nerves twitching involuntarily. With a final, graphic crunch—like bones pulverizing—the cores merged into one, a pulsating orb of feathered mist, its surface roiling with harmonized power, strings guiding it into the chest with a slick insertion, the cavity accepting it with a wet seal as threads stitched tissues back, flesh knitting with audible pops and stretches.
The Blood Bath followed, Shao Ye helping lift the body—her weight limp and cold—into the vat, the crimson slurry engulfing her with a hissing roar, steam erupting in thick clouds that filled the room with iron-scented fog. Alex channeled his Loom energy, strings diving into the bath to direct the essences, forcing the 100 demon beasts' vital forces through her pores in a graphic infusion—skin bubbling and reddening as if boiling from within, veins bulging grotesquely like writhing snakes, bones cracking and reforming with sharp reports that echoed like whips, muscles convulsing in spasms that splashed slurry, the liquid churning violently as it penetrated, hardening her form layer by layer, the process a symphony of organic transformation, non-sexual but raw, her body arching in puppet-like throes until the bath calmed, her skin now toughened to spirit-iron resilience, bones dense and unbreakable.
After hours, the awakening: Alex placed the Steel-Ribbed Fans in her hands, the weapons bonding with a metallic hum, then tapped her forehead with a Qi-infused finger, strings surging final life force. Her eyes snapped open—piercing amber—and she sat up fluidly, her lithe frame now infused with speed and deception, the graphic refinement complete, her body a masterpiece of synthesis.
"Sing Lee," Alex intoned.
She rose, fans unfolding with a snap, her voice emerging smooth yet hollow. "Master, I live to serve the Loom."
The silver moon hung high over the Blue Lotus Pavilion, its light reflecting off the mist-covered lake to create an ethereal, haunting glow. Inside the central chamber, the air was thick with the scent of [Sandalwood Calm-Incense], meant to soothe frayed nerves, but the tension remained suffocating.
Lin Shan sat rigidly in a high-backed chair of carved iron-oak. His silver eyes were fixed on the floor, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles in his neck strained. To any outsider, he looked stoic—the "Calamity Sovereign" maintaining his dignity. But Xiong Kaun, standing like a silent sentinel at his shoulder, could see the slight tremor in the Young Master's fingertips and the way his breath came in shallow, jagged hitches. The friction in his shattered spirit root was like a branding iron held against his soul.
Lady Yin Ji paced the room, her silk robes rustling like dry leaves. She suddenly stopped and turned to the group. "Before we departed the Imperial Jade Capital, I did not merely pack our bags. I sent a [High-Grade Jade Slip] to the Alchemy Association headquarters."
She paused, her eyes flashing with a desperate triumph. "I have secured a commitment. A Grade 4 Alchemist is already en route to Mountain County."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Butler Ja dropped the talisman brush he had been cleaning, the ink staining the floor. Xiong Kaun's eyes widened, his heavy brow lifting in genuine shock.
"A Grade 4 Alchemist?" Butler Ja stammered, his voice filled with awe. "My Lady, even in the Capital, such masters are treated as national treasures. They only answer to the Emperor or the Sect Masters of the Great Three! To bring one to this... this border town... the cost must have been astronomical."
"The cost does not matter," Yin Ji snapped, though the lines of exhaustion on her face deepened. "I used my personal favors and half the Yin Family's dowry reserves. They are sending Grandmaster Lu. He is a specialist in [Meridian Reconstruction]."
Lin Shan looked up, his clouded silver eyes showing the first spark of emotion in days: genuine surprise. "Mother... you did this? A Grade 4 Master coming here... for me?"
"For you, Shan'er," she whispered, reaching out to touch his cold cheek. "They expect to arrive within seven days. We only need to keep you stabilized until then."
"Seven days..." Lin Shan rasped. He tried to stand, but a sudden spike of agony from his Dantian made his vision go black for a split second. He masked the wince with a deep breath, but Xiong Kaun was already there, a massive hand steadying his elbow.
"Kaun," Lin Shan whispered, his voice thick with a fatigue that went deeper than bone. "Help me to my chamber. I... I need to try to find sleep. If it exists for a man like me."
"At once, Young Master," Xiong Kaun rumbled. He looked at Lady Yin Ji and Butler Ja, his expression grim. "He has reached his limit for the day. The journey took a heavy toll."
The readers see the silent dialogue between the mother and the bodyguard—a look of shared grief and the heavy weight of hope placed on a master who was still a week away.
"Sleep well, my son," Yin Ji said, her voice cracking. "The Grandmaster is coming. Hold on."
Xiong Kaun carefully hoisted Lin Shan's arm over his broad shoulders, taking as much of the Young Master's weight as he could without bruising his pride. They walked slowly down the corridor toward the private sleeping quarters.
"You're doing well, Shan," Xiong Kaun whispered privately as they moved. "Most men would have screamed their lungs out by now. Your willpower... it's still that of a Sovereign."
"Willpower won't knit a shattered root, Kaun," Lin Shan replied with a bitter, hollow chuckle. "But I'll stay alive for seven more days. I want to see if a Grade 4 legend can actually stitch a ghost back together."
As they disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, the low-tier spirit vein beneath the pavilion pulsed faintly, as if sensing the dying embers of the lightning king's power.
The morning sun filtered through the azure silk curtains of the pavilion, casting a serene light that mocked the turmoil within Lin Shan. A spread of high-grade spiritual congee, steamed dragon-tail buns, and jade-leaf tea sat on the table, but the aroma only made Lin Shan's stomach churn.
Lady Yin Ji sat across from him, her posture impeccable but her eyes shadowed with worry. Xiong Kaun stood by the door, his gaze constantly sweeping the room.
"Shan'er, you must eat," Lady Yin Ji said, her voice soft but commanding. "The Grade 4 Alchemist, Grandmaster Lu, will arrive by midday tomorrow. We must ensure your body is not too weak to receive his treatment. I have already coordinated with the City Lord to clear the roads for his arrival."
Lin Shan nodded mechanically, picking up a spoon, but his mind was miles away.
[Inner Thought: A Grade 4 Alchemist... a legend of the Capital. But that bird last night... that 'Sun King Ki.' He spoke of a 'Weaver.' A man who watches from the shadows and decides if I am worth moving. The pain in my Dantian is a screaming fire, yet that bird's Master thinks I should endure it for a month. Who possesses such arrogance? And why do I feel that his words carry more weight than a Grandmaster's arrival?]
"Shan'er?" Lady Yin Ji's voice sharpened, breaking his trance. "Are you even listening? I was saying we need to prepare a list of the symptoms you feel when the lightning friction peaks."
Lin Shan snapped his head up, his silver eyes unfocused for a second. "Yes, Mother. Forgive me. I was just... thinking about the Grandmaster. It is a long journey for such a man."
Xiong Kaun narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing the subtle shift in the Young Master's heart rate, but he said nothing. He only tightened his grip on his spear, wondering what had changed in the air since the sun went down.
Location: Wu Physician Shop – Alex's Bedroom
The room was cool and dim, smelling of aged sandalwood and cold Qi. Alex Wu lay on his bed, his eyes closed. Refining Sing Lee in a single night had taxed even his vast reserves; though he could siphon energy from the atmosphere instantly, he preferred the natural rhythm of rest to settle his meridians.
Swoosh.
A streak of red-gold light blurred through the window. Sun Ki landed on the nightstand, his chest heaving.
Alex didn't move, but his voice was a calm, low vibration. "It took you long enough. Where have you been?"
"Oh, I saw something that cannot be explained right now, Master," Sun Ki rasped, hopping closer to Alex's pillow. "Don't worry about it—it's not about our conversation from last night. Just some... local gossip that would give you a headache. You wouldn't like watching it."
Alex opened one eye, turning his head to the left to look at the fire-crow. A small, knowing smirk played on his lips. "As long as it doesn't interfere with the Loom. So... what was the response from our 'Calamity'?"
Sun Ki let out a sharp cackle. "The hairless monkey was surprised! He limped over like a wounded dog, asking where I came from. I put him in his place, of course. I told him he wasn't worthy of your name yet. I told him if he can survive a month of that glass-shredding pain, then he truly belongs in our world."
"And?" Alex prompted.
"He was desperate, Master," Sun Ki reported, his embers-colored eyes glowing. "He asked if you were a physician. He wanted a name. But I left him with nothing but the warning: The Weaver is watching."
Alex sat up slowly, his long hair falling over his shoulders. He looked out the window toward the mountain where the Miasma was beginning to lift.
"A month," Alex whispered, his gaze cold and calculating. "If he survives, his will will be tempered into something even the Imperial Capital cannot break. If he fails, he was never a piece worth moving."
He stood up, the Gray Qi strings at his fingertips twitching with anticipation. "Well then. Let's wait and see for this one month. I hope he makes it."
Sun Ki flapped his wings, landing on Alex's shoulder. "I hope so too, Master. I hope so too. It would be a waste of a perfectly good handsome puppet if he died now!"