Though, as Jiang Lang had said, this sort of luminous rosy cloud was not particularly rare, that was only in relative terms.
These spiritual clouds were fragile; a gust of wind would scatter them.
Occasionally seeing them and being able to gather them were two different things, and being able to gather them and how much one could gather were another matter entirely. At least, the tiny amount originally collected would yield no more than a short end of thread.
Even that short end was exceedingly fragile and loose, for ultimately it was still a wisp of spiritual energy and a puff of mist.
The moment Yi Shuyuan released his control, it would dissolve into nothing. Nor was it suited to refining with fire; there was so little that it would instantly evaporate into oblivion.
But the power Yi Shuyuan drew out of the Spirit Pearl and transformed was different. Just as he had sensed earlier, the Spirit Pearl could change in response to the currents of fate. Combined with Yi Shuyuan's magical power, it could actually stabilize this thread of rosy cloud.
As the faintly luminous thread grew longer, Zhuo Qing wound it up little by little. Since the gentleman trusted her, she would not disappoint him.
Yi Shuyuan needed neither to give her further instructions nor to help her prepare herself mentally. Zhuo Qing simply took up the thread and began, without the slightest nervousness. Since childhood, she had woven silk far more than a thousand times.
Yet what Zhuo Qing considered an ordinary state of mind was anything but ordinary in Yi Shuyuan's eyes. A spiritual resonance had already arisen within her soul.
The Spirit Pearl's radiance brightened at that moment as well. It was not the immortal light of immortal spiritual energy, but a wash of