The next morning, slanting sunlight filtered through the latticed floral windows of the Fragrant Collection Pavilion, casting scattered flower shadows across the floor.
You were bent over the desk, leafing through the Incomplete Alchemy Manuscript. Your fingertips had only just brushed its yellowed pages when someone gently pushed the wooden door open from outside.
Chrysanthemum Douluo walked in with slow, unhurried steps, dressed in a moon-white casual robe embroidered with muted gold chrysanthemum patterns along the sleeves, holding half a flower bud beaded with morning dew.
"Little fellow." He casually slipped the bud into the celadon vase on the desk, brushing its petals with his fingertips. His tone was calm but thorough. "I will be entering seclusion in the secret chamber on the top floor today. It may be as short as ten days, or as long as half a month."
"Make yourself at home in the pavilion. Servants will bring your meals, and you may help yourself to its books and medicinal ingredients. If you encounter any annotations you are unsure of, or principles of plant life you cannot understand, write them all down on paper. I will answer them together when I emerge."
"If anything important comes up, go to the west wing and find a steward named Qingyu. He will handle it."
You first cupped your hands in acknowledgment, then involuntarily looked him over, something odd showing in your expression.
You had actually anticipated this seclusion. Presumably, Chrysanthemum Douluo intended to use the medicinal power of that Lovesick Heartbreak Red to break through his bottleneck.
Only-
As far as you knew, Chrysanthemum Douluo had never married. The only person who had remained at his side for decades was Ghost Douluo. Perhaps because of their Martial Soul Fusion Skill, their bond seemed to faintly transcend the boundaries of ordinary brotherhood.
And the Lovesick Heartbreak Red was an immortal herb said to have been born from the tragic love between a flower immortal who descended to the mortal world and a mortal youth. Its conditions for accepting a master were exceptionally stringent-
It required someone utterly true in feeling and nature to think of their beloved and water it with their heart's blood. That love had to be pure enough to remain "unwavering unto death" before it would acknowledge them as its master.
Although it had never explicitly said that the love had to be between a man and a woman, the few precedents in the original work had all involved passionate love between men and women.
Could it be... that love between people of the same sex could also gain its recognition, so long as it was utterly sincere and profound? Had Chrysanthemum Douluo gained its acknowledgment through his bond with Ghost Douluo?
Of course, there was another possibility-
Chrysanthemum Douluo's Martial Soul and the Lovesick Heartbreak Red were both of immortal grade. There might be another way to establish resonance between them, without stimulating it with heart's blood, much less harming the immortal herb's spiritual essence.
As these thoughts turned through your mind, a hint of scrutiny inevitably crept into your eyes.
Chrysanthemum Douluo looked up and caught it, immediately feeling somewhat uncomfortable, as though someone had affronted him. His eyes narrowed. "Boy, what is that look supposed to mean?"
You hurriedly laughed to gloss it over. "Nothing, just... er... I wish you swift success in your seclusion, Senior."
In the end, you did not dare voice those speculations.
Either possibility was far too private.
Besides, once certain secrets reached your ears, they became hot coals in your hands. Better not to know.
Chrysanthemum Douluo gave you a couple more reminders about daily life in the pavilion and using its books, then lightly swept his sleeve and turned to enter the quiet chamber deep within the top floor.
Ten days slipped by in a flash. The Chrysanthemum Garden had always been peaceful and secluded, its mornings and evenings laid out in flowers and pages.
During that time, Ghost Douluo came two or three times. You exchanged few words. Mostly, he merely stood beneath the corridor and glanced toward the quiet chamber on the top floor, lingering briefly before leaving.
That afternoon, a pale golden halo suddenly rippled out from the quiet chamber atop the Fragrant Collection Pavilion.
At first, it was only an exceedingly faint wisp, like the last light of sunset slipping through a window lattice. In an instant, it became a vast surge of chrysanthemum fragrance, pouring through the cracks around the door and windows and spreading over bed after bed of flowers. Throughout the garden, chrysanthemum stems trembled together, every petal spreading open as though answering an emperor's summons.
You set down the book in your hands and looked toward the stairs.
Before long, the wooden door was gently pushed open.
Chrysanthemum Douluo walked out slowly, his moon-white robe untouched by dust. His pale golden eyes were clearer than before, his aura deep and still as a profound pool, and a trace of immortal spirituality had yet to fade from his brow.
"You have emerged, Senior." You put down your weasel-hair brush, rose, and saluted with cupped hands. "Congratulations on advancing another step."
"Thanks to you." The corners of Chrysanthemum Douluo's lips lifted slightly. His fingertips gently brushed a blooming winter chrysanthemum on the desk, and the dewdrops on its petals rolled off in response, falling into the celadon vase with soft, scattered sounds.
"The Lovesick Heartbreak Red's medicinal power was more substantial than I expected. Not only did it help me cross the threshold of rank ninety-six, it also made my Martial Soul Origin considerably more solid. As the remaining medicinal power slowly nourishes my meridians, another advance within three to five years may not be impossible."
He raised his hand in a beckoning gesture. A thread of golden light flashed at his fingertips, and the teapot on the desk moved without a breeze, pouring half a cup of clear tea. "Has anything happened outside during this half month of seclusion?"
"Everything has been as usual," you answered truthfully. After a pause, you added, "Ghost Elder did come by a few days ago, though. He left only a message, saying he had discovered their whereabouts and asking you to find him once you emerged."
Chrysanthemum Douluo's movement as he lifted his tea paused slightly. He nodded thoughtfully. "Understood. Anything else?"
You considered briefly, recalling Ghost Douluo's ultimate fate in the original course of events-killed by Tang San in a sneak attack using Sea God's Light.
Choosing your words carefully, you added, "I have heard that Ghost Elder's Martial Soul is yin-aligned and incorporeal, and has always been countered by the sacred attribute. Perhaps you could use the Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum's supremely yang and corporeal nature to refine a piece of aura-concealing protective equipment for him, so that he has a precaution."
At that, Chrysanthemum Douluo's eyes flickered slightly, and he nodded thoughtfully. "That was considerate of you."
He put down his teacup and interlaced his fingers over his knees, his gaze settling on you. "Have you encountered any difficulties in your studies here these past days?"
You had prepared well in advance. From your sleeve, you took out a sheet of paper densely covered with the thoughts and questions you had accumulated over the past half month.
"Senior, while reading the Comprehensive Guide to the Spiritual Qi of Plants, I saw it mention that plant qi sprouts in spring, grows in summer, gathers in autumn, and stores in winter. If one imitates this rhythm with Soul Power over a long period, it might slightly improve the quality of one's Martial Soul."
"I believe that classifying all plant Martial Souls as Tool Martial Souls is already somewhat biased. Plants have rhythms of life and death; they are not lifeless objects."
"So I was wondering: since plants can evolve spontaneously in response to their environment, could we imitate environments of extreme heat and cold with Soul Power and temper the Martial Soul repeatedly, thereby strengthening its elemental resistance?"
Chrysanthemum Douluo took the paper and scanned your questions line by line. A glimmer of appreciation crossed his eyes. "You certainly know how to infer three things from one. The seasonal rhythms of plants do indeed accord with the circulation of Soul Power."
"The method you proposed is indeed feasible. However, for most Plant System Soul Masters, the improvement would be limited. Besides, going too far is as bad as not going far enough."
"This method is best used from the Soul Ancestor to Soul Saint stages. Before Soul Ancestor, the Martial Soul's foundation is too weak to withstand repeated tempering; after Soul Saint, the Martial Soul has nearly taken its final shape, making further progress difficult."
You listened intently, seeming to gain some understanding.
"And this." Your fingertip touched another line on the paper. "While reading the Brief Records of Spirit Vines, I saw that when Soul Masters absorb the Soul Rings of Soul Beasts such as the Essence-Devouring Vine, they are very likely to obtain parasitic or devouring skills."
"I saw that the Spirit Hall Statutes require Soul Masters who awaken a devouring attribute to register, as a precaution against their losing control and becoming Fallen Soul Masters. Do devouring skills obtained through Soul Rings like these also need to be registered?"
Chrysanthemum Douluo considered briefly, tapping his fingertip lightly against the edge of the desk before speaking slowly. "The devouring attribute can be divided into two types. One is the combat-skill type, such as the devouring skills granted by an Essence-Devouring Vine's Soul Ring that you mentioned. Such skills take effect only temporarily in battle. They absorb an opponent's Soul Power or even life force, then immediately turn it into an attack. The Soul Power is neither retained nor refined. Soul Skills like these cannot be considered sinister, nor do they require special registration."
"The other is Devouring Cultivation, which improves oneself by plundering others' Soul Power and the origins of Soul Beasts. Progress may seem extraordinarily swift, but the absorbed Soul Power is mixed and impure, and the vast majority of Martial Souls lack the ability to purify and refine it. Over time, it contaminates the Martial Soul's spirituality and twists one's disposition, ultimately reducing one to a Fallen Soul Master who knows only plunder."
"Worse still, some cannot restrain their evil urge to devour and readily maim other Soul Masters or take civilian lives. These are the people Spirit Hall's registration is meant to guard against."
You concentrated on committing this distinction firmly to memory, privately gaining a more tangible appreciation of Spirit Hall's role in suppressing evil Soul Masters and maintaining stability across the continent.
You asked another seven or eight questions in succession, ranging from taboos in transplanting and sustaining immortal-grade medicinal herbs, to the minute nuances of blending plant spiritual qi with Soul Power, and then to uncertainties in the ingredient combinations of several pill formulas. Great or small, you sought his guidance on each.
Chrysanthemum Douluo answered them one by one, drawing extensively on other sources and explaining everything clearly and methodically. Even when he occasionally paused to ponder, he never brushed you off with perfunctory answers, and always struck at the heart of the matter.
By the time the last question was settled, dusk had long since deepened outside. The sparse shadows of golden chrysanthemums beneath the corridor fell slantwise across the window paper. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of the evening breeze through flowers and leaves, mingling with the delicate scents of chrysanthemums and medicinal herbs as it drifted lazily between the window lattices.
Before you continue