Sun Xiaolan's fingers trembled as she clutched the jade vial Li Lingfeng offered. Moonlight filtering through Shushan's crystalline rooftops caught the iridescent liquid within—a swirling nebula contained in three ounces of glass. "This... will truly let me walk your path?" Her whisper hung like dewdrops in the meditation chamber's incense-heavy air.
The Sword Sage inclined his head, frost-colored hair cascading over ceremonial robes. "The Body Reformation Elixir requires nine more lunar cycles. But know this, child—" His gaze pierced through her like twin blades, "—what we grant isn't perfection. Your ceiling remains lower than natural-born cultivators."
She curtsied deeply, jade pendant swinging. "To share even a decade with Zhao Rui as equals would be heaven's grace."
Outside the Golden Lotus Hall, cicadas chorused their approval.
Zhao Rui's temporal dislocation began subtly. First came the phantom scent of brine—memories of Dragon Palace ruins where he'd seized the Soul Devourer's Tome. Then time itself unraveled.
In the western pavilion's isolation chamber, his fingers traced glowing sigils floating above the crystal slate. The ancient text writhed like caged lightning, each character a barbed hook reeling in his consciousness.
Essence Threading: Phase One
His meridians burned. A filament of qi pushed through forearm capillaries, emerging as a luminescent strand finer than spider silk. Sixteenth attempt. Seventeenth. On the twenty-third dawn, the thread held—translucent conduit pulsing with stolen memories of the tome's previous owners.
Unseen beyond stone doors, Sun Xiaolan paced concentric circles into cedar floors. "Three months," she fretted to a stone-faced Dun Che. "Even hibernating bears wake sooner!"
The demon shifted uncomfortably. "Human cultivation's like... like fermenting wine! Longer sealed, stronger the—"
"Enough with your drunken analogies!" Her fist slammed a pillar, sending startled sparrows skyward. "What if he's trapped? Or..." Her voice broke. "...forgotten how to return?"
Dynastic-era bronze braziers cast shifting shadows across Dun Che's troubled face.
Li Jingyan's arrival came with poisoned honey. "Fair Lady Sun," the disciple purred, bowing low enough to glimpse her embroidered slippers, "this humble one heard of your distress." His gaze lingered on the sweat-damp hollow of her throat. "Perhaps a musical diversion? The Nightingales' Pavilion—"
Dun Che's bulk interposed like a landslide. "Piss off, pretty boy."
Fury flashed behind Li Jingyan's cultivated smile. "This is Shushan territory, beast. Mind your—"
The isolation chamber's explosion cut his threat short.
Inside the meditation crucible, Zhao Rui floated cocooned in self-spun qi—a chrysalis of stolen energies. The Soul Devourer's truth revealed itself now; each stolen thread carried whispers. A pirate king's final curse here, a drowned monk's enlightenment there.
More, the tome's essence crooned. Take more.
When Dun Che blundered through warding seals, the cocoon reacted with predator instinct. Ten thousand filaments lashed out—primordial spiderweb snaring a god.
"Brother Zhao! It's me—urgh!" The demon's protest died as essence siphoned through needle-fine conduits. Centuries of accumulated power surged outward—a comet's tail ripped from celestial flesh.
Zhao Rui's eyes snapped open. Through the cocoon's bioluminescent haze, he saw Dun Che's face—not fear, but heartbreak.
This is who you become? Those loyal eyes accused.
The threads recoiled as if scalded.
Dawn found them on a mist-wreathed observation deck, medicinal tea cooling between them. Dun Che massaged phantom pains in his meridians. "Felt like getting milked by a thousand starved calves."
Zhao Rui stared at his palm—veins still glowing faintly blue. "The tome... it's changing me."
"Change isn't evil." The demon nodded toward distant rooftops where Sun Xiaolan practiced calligraphy, tongue peeking in concentration. "She changes you too."
Li Jingyan's laughter carried from the gardens below—a serpent's hiss wrapped in silk. Both men tensed.
"Your pet snake's been sniffing around," Dun Che growled.
Zhao Rui flexed his hand. The blue glow intensified. "Let him. When the time comes..." A sparrow fell mid-flight, essence streaming into his palm. Its desiccated corpse hit the stones with a hollow clink. "...I'll have new means of pruning pests."
In the alchemy pavilion, Li Lingfeng paused his crucible tending. Through crystal walls, he watched Zhao Rui's corrupted aura pulse—black star devouring Shushan's pristine energies.
"Fool boy," the Sword Sage murmured, not unkindly. His reflection in the elixir's surface showed eyes aged beyond millennia. "You court the same darkness that consumed Huayang Zhenjun."
The Body Reformation Elixir bubbled angrily, its surface reflecting Sun Xiaolan's hopeful face.