The small shape dropped into the crook of Tang San's arm, so light that it did not tug at his wounds. As soon as the mycelium Ji Yuan extended along his cuff touched its edge, he felt a layer of soft white fur.
Both of Tang San's hands froze in midair.
The human figure at the center of the sacrifice had already dispersed, yet a rabbit now nestled inside his robe, her hind legs curled beneath her, her ears resting against her back. Her belly still rose and fell ever so slightly.
"Xiao Wu, stop teasing me. Get up. I know you can hear me."
There was no answer.
Ji Yuan withdrew the root tips near the rabbit. The bulk of her soul origin had already entered the Ambrosial Arbor. What remained before him had a feeble bloodline; the gains from extracting more were not worth destabilizing his host.
"Are you tired? Rest for now. I won't rush you. Don't close your eyes. Look at me first."
Tang San lifted the rabbit's head, stroking from the base of her ears to the side of her neck with his fingertips, then moved his palm to her belly. Only after confirming its rise and fall did he tighten his arm around her.
The Soul Ring revolved slowly beside him.
The red that should have shone brightly now held light only along its inner circle. Its edges were dim, and with Tang San's breathing, broken patterns occasionally emerged.
Ji Yuan no longer had any attention to spare for its appearance.
The harvested hundred-thousand-year origin piled up deep within his core, soul power filling his root channels. In particular, the essence extracted from the arm bone was constantly battering the dark-gold structure he had formed earlier.
"Xiao Wu, I won't touch your Soul Ring.