His consciousness gradually gathered within a warm blue-gold glow. Tang Wulin felt as though his body were floating among the clouds, held up by a gentle force that slowly carried him back to reality.
He slowly opened his eyes to the familiar, old-fashioned ceiling of the Sea God Pavilion's Quiet Room. A faint sandalwood fragrance lingered around his nose. It was the pavilion's special calming incense, supposedly made from deep-sea sunken wood blended with medicinal herbs, with remarkable effects on a Soul Master's recovery.
"You're awake."
A gentle voice sounded beside his ear.
Tang Wulin turned his head and saw Tang Wutong sitting beside the bed. She held a steaming bowl of medicinal broth, her eyes showing a trace of fatigue, but far more concern.
"Sis..." Tang Wulin tried to push himself up, only to feel his entire body ache, as though every bone had been taken apart and put back together.
"Don't move. Your body is very weak right now." Tang Wutong quickly set down the bowl, gently pressed his shoulder, and helped him lean against the headboard.
Tang Wulin caught his breath and looked around in confusion. "Sis, why am I in the Sea God Pavilion? I remember... I think I fought Yue Zhengyu and the others, and then..."
His memories stopped at the instant that nine-colored figure had appeared—the sensation of power that commanded everything, followed by excruciating pain.
"Then you passed out," Tang Wutong finished for him. Her tone was calm, but her eyes grew grave. "Wulin, do you know what you just did?"
Tang Wulin shook his head, looking uneasily at his sister. "Did I... lose control again?"
"It was worse than losing control." Tang Wutong sighed and reached for his wrist, sending another gentle stream of Soul Power into his body. "That Martial Soul