Before the root tips had opened halfway, Ji Yuan withdrew several hyphae near the origin. The red light was changing direction, and the grass stems that had previously let him pass through were already beginning to pull away from the ground.
There was no longer a shadow beneath Xiao Wu's feet.
Through the fine roots pressed against the back of Tang San's hand, he felt the hand reaching toward him lose its weight. Their fingertips met through the curtain of light, yet he could no longer hear even the rustle of sleeves brushing together.
"What's happening to your hand, Xiao Wu? Give me your hand. Don't leave this thing between us!"
Tang San pushed his palm forward. The red light receded a little, then closed again between them. The blood caught in the lines of his palm was pushed back, flowing along his wrist bone into his sleeve.
"Let go of the Blue Silver Grass first. You're squeezing your own wounds. I'm fine over here, really."
"You still say you're fine? I can see the rocks behind you. Your arms are turning transparent!"
Ji Yuan drew his roots back along the Martial Soul connection without touching Xiao Wu. The root tips left at the center of the sacrifice only tracked the direction of the flow; he had moved the actual point where he would receive the power beneath Tang San's feet.
The sacrifice had already chosen its recipient.
With every surge, the origin gathered within Xiao Wu veered toward Tang San. Even when Gui Mei outside extended his Soul Power into it, all he could touch was the red light that repelled him.
"Look at me here, Brother. Don't look at my hands. Listen to what I have to say, all right?"
"I won't listen! Come out and say it.