In the end, Lin Si Shu could only manage to say, "It's good that Shaobai can accept it. This was what your teacher wished for before he died, too."
Fang Yan, however, was thinking about something else.
"What should we do with Mr. Jimò's remains?"
Lin Si Shu said, "I heard that their clan cremates their dead."
Before Fang Yan could answer, Shao Chong had already gotten up to gather firewood. "Shaobai, I'll help. I'll get enough to burn him!"
Lin Si Shu and Fang Yan's expressions twisted.
What did he mean, "enough to burn him"???
Just as Fang Yan worried that Thirteen would be beaten senseless by Jimò Qiu, the latter merely shook his head calmly. "Cremation doesn't need to be that complicated. Besides, fire isn't used for cremation."
Shao Chong was bewildered. "Cremation doesn't use fire?"
Jimò Qiu demonstrated the orthodox cremation method of the Gongxi Clan on the spot. He raised a hand and summoned a wooden staff. As its tip touched the ground, a ring of intricate, mysterious patterns unfurled beneath Jimò Yu's remains. With a soft poof, they turned into clusters of emerald flames that enveloped him.
When the flames faded, all that remained was a seed the size of a longan. It bobbed in the air, circled Jimò Qiu three times, then drifted reluctantly toward the underground palace's gate.
Jimò Qiu stepped forward and asked the seed, "Do you want to be planted here?"
The seed didn't respond, but it stopped moving.
Jimò Qiu understood what it meant.
He dug a hole beneath the gate's relief sculpture and let the seed settle inside. After only a few breaths, a tender sprout broke through the soil.
A living person had turned into a seed—and it had even sprouted!
Fang Yan and Lin Si Shu stared