The mist of the Ice and Fire Immortal Grass hung over the valley like an eternal veil, gently shrouding everything within. Ling Feng's body remained cold atop the warm jade, his breathing as faint as a candle guttering in the wind. The dark-purple palm print on his chest writhed like a living thing. Suppressed by the gentle white light of Ye Lingling's Nine Heart Begonia and the nourishing medicinal formation Dugu Bo had laid down, it lay unwillingly dormant, yet still emanated a dreadful and ominous aura. Hu Liena remained beside the warm jade without leaving even a step. Her once bewitching face was now filled with exhaustion and worry, and the brilliance had faded from her purple eyes, leaving only anxiety too thick to dispel.
At the edge of the valley, Dugu Bo sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, regulating his breathing as he recovered the tremendous soul power expended suppressing Ling Feng's curse. Nearby, Dugu Yan brewed a restorative medicinal broth, its bitter yet faintly sweet fragrance filling the air. Ye Lingling's face was pale. The prolonged output of soul power had left her swaying on the verge of collapse, but the glow of the Nine Heart Begonia had never faded. Like the final spark in the night, it maintained the faint glimmer of life in Ling Feng's heart meridians.
Time trickled by amid the oppressive silence, each minute and second seeming exceptionally long.
Yet at that moment, Ling Feng's consciousness had fallen into an unprecedented, bizarre realm.
There was no body, no pain—only pure perception, endlessly stretched and compressed. He felt like a wisp of dust drifting through the void, drawn by an irresistible, vast, and majestic will across endless darkness and chaotic currents of time and space. Countless fragmented images, twisted lines, and noisy murmurs battered