Golden Blue Silver Grass

When Blue Silver Grass sprouted from Tang Wulin's palm, everyone fell silent.

The slender vines were a full circle thicker than they had been during his last awakening, their surfaces covered in a faint golden glow, as if the afterglow of sunset had been crushed and brushed over them. Most peculiar of all was the direction the vines grew—they would not obey. Tang Wulin clearly had not deliberately controlled them, yet the Blue Silver Grass climbed the walls on its own, spread across the floor, slipped through the window cracks and clung to the edge of the sill. One by one, they unfurled like ivy greeting spring.

The setting sun slanted in through the window, its golden light falling upon the vines. The leaves of the Blue Silver Grass shone with an almost transparent pale gold. The entire room seemed wrapped in a net of light, and even the dark corners glowed with warmth.

Tang Ziran's mouth hung open for a long while.

Lang Yue clutched the corner of her apron, staring unblinkingly at the vines covering the walls.

Na'er crouched on the floor and poked a strand of Blue Silver Grass by her feet with one tiny finger. The blade bent gently and brushed against her fingertip, like a kitten acting cute.

Silence.

Yet the silence was not empty. Tang Wulin himself found it strange—standing in the middle of the room, with Blue Silver Grass extending from his body, he could feel the rhythm of everyone's heartbeat. Tang Ziran's was steady and powerful, Lang Yue's light and lively, Na'er's frail and gentle, and Mang Tian's at the doorway was always taut, as though it would never allow itself to relax.

Their pulses were connected to him. He closed his eyes, and a strange sense of acceptance rose from his chest—the Blue Silver Grass seemed to be saying, I'm here. Rest easy.

He opened his eyes and took a soft breath.

"My first soul skill: Blue Silver Entanglement."

The instant the words fell, the Blue Silver Grass throughout the room seemed to receive an order and gathered toward the same direction at once—vines by Tang Ziran's feet wound around his ankles, leaves behind Lang Yue curled around her forearm, and the vine that had been brushing Na'er's fingertip slowly bent into a ring around her wrist.

There was not the slightest aggression in it. When those vines touched them, they were as light as feathers brushing skin, warm and carrying a faint fresh scent.

Tang Ziran lowered his head to look at the circle of golden vine around his ankle. Then he suddenly laughed and patted Tang Wulin's head. "You little brat, you gave me a scare."

Mang Tian did not move. Standing in the doorway, he bent down and picked up a strand of Blue Silver Grass hanging from the wall, rolling it between his fingertips.

The leaf was covered in tiny patterns that would have gone unnoticed without close inspection—layer upon layer of golden, scale-like markings, as fine as hairs, densely covering the surface of the grass stem. The scales lay close together, and they felt rough and faintly warm to the touch.

Mang Tian's brows slowly furrowed. He brought the grass closer to inspect it, rubbing it twice between his fingertips. Then his entire body jolted as if struck by lightning, and he abruptly drew back his hand.

"I..." Mang Tian stared at his fingers, where a faint golden mark still lingered. "Did I sense it wrong?"

He raised his head to look at Tang Wulin. Lang Yue had pulled the boy into her arms and kissed his cheek, while his small body squirmed around in his mother's embrace. Na'er also leaned over, holding up the grass ring on her wrist for her brother to see, her eyes sparkling.

"Our Tang Tang is the best!" Lang Yue said, rubbing against her son with all her might.

Tang Ziran clapped beside them, his eyes narrowing into two slits from his laughter. "What did I tell you? How could my son possibly be lacking?"

No one paid Mang Tian any attention.

He stood there for a moment, then stepped around the Blue Silver Grass on the floor and walked over to crouch in front of Tang Wulin, looking into those eyes that still held a trace of childishness.

"Tang Wulin," Mang Tian lowered his voice, making sure Lang Yue and Tang Ziran could not hear, "after fusing with that soul spirit, did you feel anything unusual?"

Tang Wulin froze.

"For example," Mang Tian fixed his gaze on him, "some other power inside your body trying to emerge?"

Tang Wulin's heart skipped a beat. He thought of the Golden Dragon King, of those seventeen seals—no, the seals were gone now. The Golden Dragon King had fused with him, and those chains had shattered long ago. But he could not tell anyone about it. No one would believe him even if he did.

"Teacher Mang Tian, I'm fine." Tang Wulin met his gaze, keeping his expression as steady as he could. "I think I fused quite well with this soul spirit. It just doesn't like coming out and always sleeps in the soul spirit space."

Mang Tian looked at him for a long time. There was scrutiny in that gaze, assessment too, but even more of something Tang Wulin could not make out. After several breaths, Mang Tian suddenly reached out and placed his broad palm on Tang Wulin's head, rubbing it neither gently nor roughly.

"Remember," his voice retained its cold, hard tone, but his words carried far more weight than before, "Wulin, don't shoulder everything by yourself. Your teacher may not be anyone remarkable, but I will always be your strongest support."

Tang Wulin's nose suddenly stung. He lowered his head and blinked hard, forcing back the moisture in his eyes.

Support. His teacher had told him that he was his support.

When Mang Tian said those words, he looked awkward and stubborn.

"Okay." Tang Wulin raised his head and grinned. "Thank you, Teacher."

He silently swore to himself—all of you are my strongest support. So before I fall, no one will lay a hand on any of you.

"All right, all right." Lang Yue released Tang Wulin and brushed grass fragments from her hands. "It's about time to eat. Teacher Mang Tian, why don't you stay for dinner?"

Mang Tian had already retreated to the doorway. Turning his back to them, he waved a hand. "No, younger sister-in-law. I still have things to do. I'll be going."

His steps out the door were a little quicker than usual. Tang Wulin watched his dusty gray figure disappear around the corner outside. The Blue Silver Grass on the windowsill slowly withdrew, like a receding tide, returning to his palm strand by strand.

Only the golden glow of sunset remained in the room.

Na'er still could not bear to take off the grass ring on her wrist. Tilting her head at Tang Wulin, she said, "Brother, let me play with it again tomorrow."

Tang Wulin smiled. "Okay."

He raised his hand, and the Blue Silver Grass slowly withdrew into his body from his fingertips. The golden light dimmed bit by bit. With his palm pressed to his chest, the Trunk Bone's pulse remained steady, like a second heart, beating once, then again.

Outside the window, the setting sun burned dark red, and soul-powered streetlights lit up one after another. The evening breeze of AOLAI City swept through the alleys, carrying the greasy scent of someone's cooking and the distant clanging of a mech repair shop closing for the day.

"Tang Wulin, hurry and fuse the power within your body. In a few days, I will take you somewhere good." The Golden Dragon King's voice sounded again.