Even without his conscious effort, Su Kang felt his newly formed Astral Meridian pulsing faintly, instinctively absorbing the lingering traces of silver-black Qi from the air.
He sat in silence, eyes closed, listening to the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. It felt different now—stronger, more resonant than before. He exhaled slowly, consciously suppressing the dull ache that pressed against the edges of his awareness, a phantom pain from the recent transformation.
He allowed his mind to drift inward, skimming the surface of his spiritual sea. The Indomitable Soul Pagoda Art had managed to mitigate the worst of the soul erosion from the Astral Qi, but his newly formed foundation had not escaped unscathed.
As his spiritual gaze focused on the platform floating above his soul essence, he saw the damage clearly. The stormy gray surface was marred by fine, spiderweb-like cracks.
Then, something else caught his attention, something strange imprinted upon the cracked surface. A faint, star-like mark, glowing with a soft, ethereal blue light, rested upon the gray floor of his soul foundation.
He hadn't paid close attention to the foundation immediately after the reconstruction, too preoccupied with assessing his physical state. This intricate, star-like imprint strongly resembled the colossal blue star he had glimpsed in that terrifying void. Su Kang hesitated for a moment before extending a tendril of his soul energy to probe the mark.
It remained unresponsive, offering no feedback, no sensation. He felt nothing from it. He attempted to remove it, focusing his will, but as expected, he failed completely. The imprint seemed fused with his very soul foundation.
Su Kang's eyes slowly opened in the physical world, his breath catching, unsteady. The mysterious imprint left him deeply worried.
"Fate…" he called out mentally, turning his attention to the golden triangular artifact now floating above the stone table in the chamber. Before the reconstruction began, Fate had temporarily left his consciousness, using the empty vial that once held the Astral Dewdrop to meticulously collect as much of the escaping primordial Qi as possible.
"What is this… thing inside my soul sea?" he asked, hoping for an explanation. A moment passed as Fate presumably examined the imprint through their connection before it answered. "I am not certain."
Su Kang's eyes narrowed, his heart growing heavier. For a fleeting moment, he had allowed himself to hope Fate might possess some knowledge, some insight into this anomaly. He considered if it might be related to the Starforged Physique technique itself, but Fate's uncertainty dashed that hope. He was disappointed.
Well, there are countless secrets buried within this world. Fate is not omnipotent, he reminded himself, attempting to calm the rising tide of unease in his mind.
"I… I saw something," he began again, speaking slowly, recounting the experience when the Astral Qi first touched his spiritual consciousness – the void, the indifferent stars, the overwhelming blue star.
"I don't know if it was merely an illusion caused by the pain and soul erosion," Su Kang murmured, seeking any explanation.
Fate remained silent for several breaths. When it finally replied, its tone held a faint edge of seriousness.
"It is possible… that you came into contact with the raw Laws contained within the primordial Astral Qi. It was something your soul, in its current state, could not withstand."
Su Kang's heart skipped.
Laws were the bedrock of the cultivation world—profound, unreachable truths. Without grasping them, no one could ascend beyond the Nascent Soul realm.
Su Kang's eyes trembled slightly, his breath shallow.
"So…. the vast mists surrounding that colossal blue star, pulsing with that strange rhythm—were actually manifestations of laws?" he whispered to himself.
"When the Astral Qi touched my consciousness, it seeped inside. In that fleeting moment, when I glimpsed that vision, the imprint must have slipped into my soul-sea."
Fate's voice answered a moment later, calm but weighty.
"You are correct. Under normal circumstances, such contact would be impossible for someone at your stage. But accidents do occur. The laws within the living world are diluted—refined, structured, and safe to comprehend. But in the deep void, they exist in their original form: raw and overwhelming."
That single, accidental glimpse and it had already cracked his soul foundation. His path of soul cultivation had been halted before it could even begin.
He reached inward again with his spiritual sense, brushing against the fractures in the foundation floor. An immediate, dull ache lanced through his consciousness, a persistent reminder of the damage.
The foundation hadn't collapsed entirely, thanks to the technique, but the cracks were undeniable. In cultivation, a damaged soul was often considered far more terrifying, far harder to heal, than even a grievously wounded body.
"Fate, is this imprint dangerous?" Su Kang asked, his voice heavy.
"Perhaps it is," Fate replied, its tone turning grave. "That imprint is the residue of a cosmic law fragment contained within those wisps of Astral Qi that touched your consciousness. If, for any reason, the power within it were to erupt uncontrollably, the raw Laws contained therein could potentially wipe out your soul entirely. Alternatively, it might slowly erode your soul essence over time."
Su Kang's heart sank. The unknown had always been the greatest fear of cultivators. He didn't know if this imprint was a ticking time bomb set to explode or a slow, insidious poison. It felt like a cruel, mocking gesture from the cosmos itself, a permanent scar from his brief glimpse into the void.
Maybe the Heavenly Dao noticed me after all? The thought flickered, but he dismissed it. If that were the case, Fate would likely have sensed it and warned him.
"Fate, can you do anything about it?" he asked, a sliver of hope remaining.
"Unfortunately," Fate responded after a pause, "nothing regarding such a phenomenon is detailed within the manuals for the Starforged Physique or the Indomitable Soul Pagoda Art. So… " Fate didn't need to elaborate further.
"I see…" Su Kang took a deep, ragged sigh.
"So, I need to plan everything with the possibility of sudden death in mind." He felt a wave of sadness wash over him, a sense of bitter irony, but lamenting wouldn't change reality.
Deep within his spiritual sea, the faint blue, star-like mark flickered softly upon his damaged soul foundation—silent, unmoving, yet undeniably, unnervingly present.
His body was utterly drained, his soul scarred by invisible wounds, and his mind left raw from the excruciating transformation and the lingering shock that followed. Yet beyond all of that, it was his heart that bore the heaviest weight—the quiet, suffocating dread of a death that might come at any moment.
With a soft exhale, Su Kang collapsed onto the cold floor. The chill seeped into his skin, but he barely felt it. Darkness pulled him under, and sleep took him before he could resist.
Su Kang slept for a long time.
His physical reconstruction had taken only a few hours, but the toll on his mind ran deeper. Though his body had healed, his consciousness drifted in quiet stillness for days, adjusting and recovering.
When he finally stirred, he remained still for a while, letting the sensation of breath and body settle into harmony. He exhaled slowly, then pushed himself upright and slipped into a plain white robe. With practiced motions, he adjusted the folds until his appearance was calm and composed.
Stepping out, he was greeted by the pale orange glow of dawn. The sun rose gently over the distant mountains, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
Without delay, he made his way toward the manor.
In the rear garden, Bai Yunxi was tending to a patch of spiritual herbs. Her sleeves were slightly rolled, fingers dusted with soil. When she noticed him approaching, she straightened and turned. Her eyes, usually sharp, softened when they met his.
"You're out of seclusion."
"I am," Su Kang said, offering a faint smile.
She didn't press for details. Instead, she gave a small nod and quietly dismissed the maids, arranging a meal with quiet efficiency.
They sat beneath the open garden. The dishes were simple—steamed wheat buns, wild mushroom broth infused spirit herbs, and stir-fried greens grown under moonlight. It was simple but comforting.
"You've been gone a week," Bai Yunxi said after a moment, her voice low and steady. "Did you succeed?"
Su Kang nodded. "Yes."
She studied him for a while without speaking. Then, reaching across the table, she brushed her fingers along his forehead. Her touch was warm and careful.
"You look tired," she murmured, her hand shifting to his temple. "If everything went well, you wouldn't be like this."
He exhaled, a quiet breath that carried more weight than words could.
"It was difficult," he admitted. "But the gains were worth it. I succeeded."
He couldn't tell her the full truth—that his soul had been damaged. Perhaps I survived because of the destiny points. And perhaps, on the day they are no longer enough, I will collapse without a soul.
Bai Yunxi seemed to sense something unspoken. Her lips parted, as if to question him further, but she let out a soft sigh and withdrew her hand.