Xuefeng had braced himself for complications the moment he accepted the power of the Fate Spirit, but Ling didn't disappoint. If anything, her candor sharpened the weight of the unknown hanging over him.
"I've got two pieces of good news and one bad," Ling said, her golden orb form hovering just above his palm, glowing faintly like a dying star. Her tone was almost chipper, which made Xuefeng uneasy. "Which one do you want first?"
"Bad news first. Let's rip off the bandage," Xuefeng sighed, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He had the sinking feeling he'd need the good news to stay afloat after whatever was coming.
Ling didn't sugarcoat it. "Because I boosted your talent beyond what I should've been able to, I burned through most of my Fate Qi. Now I'm running on fumes. We have about a month before it's gone entirely, and trust me—you don't want to see what happens when I run out."
Xuefeng stiffened, the magnitude of her words sinking in. "Wait, let me get this straight—you're saying I have one month to find another Fate Holder, kill them, and harvest their Fate Spirit?" His voice cracked, disbelief crashing over him. "Ling, I don't even know how to use Spirit Arts yet! I couldn't cut down a straw dummy, let alone a Fate Holder."
His panic was palpable. He could picture it already: skilled warriors, armed to the teeth, who wouldn't hesitate to snuff him out the moment he posed a threat. The odds were laughable, a cruel joke played by the universe.
Ling, however, seemed unimpressed by his dramatics. "Relax. You've got the highest potential in the entire Eastern Region now. With the right guidance, you'll be slicing through steel like it's warm butter before long." Her tone softened, almost conspiratorial. "And anyway, if my instincts are right, you won't have to fight anyone. Not yet."
Xuefeng frowned, his pulse still pounding in his ears. "What are you talking about?"
Ling floated closer, her glow intensifying. "While you were sleeping, I scouted for Fate Qi nearby. Here's the first good news: there's a sealed Fate Fragment somewhere in this clan."
His breath caught. "A sealed Fate Fragment? Here? Are you sure?"
"Positive. It's moving, though. My guess? Someone's carrying it, and they might not even know what they've got." Her voice had a sly edge to it, like a gambler holding a winning hand.
Xuefeng exhaled in relief. "If it's in the clan, that's perfect. I can just explain the situation and negotiate. They might even hand it over if I make a good case."
Ling chuckled, the sound rich with irony. "You think it's that simple? Sure, go ahead and try. But just in case, remember you've got someone in your corner who's more than capable of handling things if it comes to a fight."
"You mean Wuying," Xuefeng said, his voice tinged with hesitation. The thought of involving her, of asking her to kill for him, made his stomach churn.
"She'd do it in a heartbeat," Ling said breezily. "She'd walk through fire if it meant earning your favor."
Xuefeng cleared his throat, his face flushing at the casual mention of Wuying's devotion. "Ehem. Anyway, what's the second piece of good news?"
Ling didn't push, though he swore he felt her amusement linger like a phantom. "It's about the Lightning Qi you absorbed from the Heavenly Tribulation," she said, her voice almost giddy. "I've got a technique from my previous host—one specifically designed to harness and amplify it."
His eyes widened, hope sparking in the gloom of his mind. "So it was indeed Lightning Qi." He grinned, the possibilities unfolding before him. "This is amazing! If I can master it, I'll have an edge without exposing my Spirit Qi to everyone. I could move unnoticed."
Ling's glow pulsed, matching her enthusiasm. "Exactly. It's a game-changer. Unfortunately, it's the only Spirit Art I remember right now. Most of my memories are locked away. But as we gather more Fate Qi, they'll return."
Xuefeng nodded slowly, the weight of his situation settling on his shoulders. Ling was a double-edged sword—both a salvation and a burden. But despite the challenges, he didn't regret their bond. Without her, he'd still be trapped in mediocrity, a shadow of his potential.
"One more thing," he said. "Can we talk without me coming into this space? It's... exhausting, splitting my mind between here and the real world."
"Of course. Just call my name, and I'll respond in your head. Easy peasy," Ling said with nonchalance.
"Good to know." Xuefeng willed himself back, and the hidden space dissolved. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the bathtub, water lapping gently at his skin.
"Ling, one, two, three," he tested, his thoughts projecting the words. "Do you hear me? Over."
"I hear you loud and clear," her voice chimed in his head, playful and smug. "Over."
"Okay, just checking. Over and out," he replied, chuckling under his breath at their exchange.
After rinsing the last suds from his skin, Xuefeng grabbed a towel draped over the bathroom's edge. Its soft texture was a pleasant surprise, though its pale pink hue caught him off guard. He shrugged, drying himself with the efficiency of someone who didn't much care about aesthetics. The towel smelled faintly floral, an oddly comforting scent that reminded him of spring mornings.
Rubbing his hair dry, he strolled back into the main room, his robe loosely tied. Wuying was waiting, but when her eyes locked onto the towel in his hands, her entire body stiffened as if someone had frozen her mid-step.
"You're staring at me like I've grown a second head," Xuefeng said, quirking an eyebrow. He followed her gaze. "Oh, the towel? Don't tell me it's yours."
He raised it to his nose, sniffing with exaggerated curiosity. "That explains it. No wonder it smells so good—it's soaked up your scent."
Wuying's cheeks erupted into a blush so fierce it seemed to radiate heat. In an instant, she closed the distance between them, snatching the towel from his hands like a hawk diving for prey. "Why would you use my towel when I set out a clean one for you?!" she demanded, her voice high-pitched with mortification.
Xuefeng blinked, confused. "Why are you getting so worked up? It's just a towel. We live together, don't we? Sharing shouldn't be a big deal."
He smiled, the kind of easy grin meant to diffuse tension. Instead, it only seemed to worsen her embarrassment, and her blush deepened to a near-crimson.
"Ahh! You're impossible!" Wuying cried, her voice cracking slightly. She spun on her heel and bolted for the door. "You eat first—I'm going outside!"
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Xuefeng alone. He shook his head, amused at the flurry of emotions she left in her wake.
On the other side of the door, Wuying leaned against it, her breaths coming fast. She stared at the towel clutched in her hands, its soft fabric still warm from his touch. The blush on her cheeks refused to fade as she brought it closer, pressing it to her face. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she inhaled deeply, the subtle scent of him enveloping her.
"It smells just like him…" she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained delight. The towel became a talisman, pulling her into a daydream where Xuefeng's arms wrapped around her and his warmth chased away every fear. "One day, I'll have this for real," she murmured. "Every day, every moment…"
Inside, Xuefeng was seated at the table, picking at the breakfast Wuying had prepared. The aroma alone was enough to make his stomach growl, and he chuckled as he took his first bite. "She's too easy to tease," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. A crooked grin spread across his face. "The more time I spend with her, the more fun it is."
He finished his meal in short order, savoring every bite. The rice had a nutty, bitter edge to it—unfamiliar but oddly pleasant. Though the flavors were new, the effort she'd put into it was unmistakable. He made a mental note to thank her properly.
After tidying up, he stepped outside, letting the breeze sweep over him. The garden stretched before him like a serene watercolor painting, its vibrant greens and gentle blossoms humming with life. He paused, inhaling deeply. The air was impossibly clean, rich with Spirit Essence, filling his lungs with an energy he couldn't quite describe.
Even without cultivating, people here live so much longer, he thought. The Spirit Essence that saturated this world seemed to defy time itself. If only my parents could breathe this air, they might live decades more…
His gaze wandered until it landed on Wuying. She was perched gracefully on a boulder near the pond, the sunlight catching her in just the right way to make her glow. Her white dress shimmered like morning frost, and her serene expression made her look otherworldly.
"So pretty…" The words escaped him in a hushed whisper before he could catch them. Feeling a sudden urge, he stepped into the garden, spotting a cluster of lilies. He plucked one—a simple white bloom—and approached her.
Wuying noticed him too late to mask her surprise. When he tucked the flower into her hair, her hand instinctively rose to touch it. She glanced up at him, her expression a mixture of wonder and shyness.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying a new, unguarded warmth. "I'll treasure it."
Xuefeng smiled, his tone light. "The food was great, by the way. I just wanted to thank you before I forgot." He extended his hand. "Come on. My father's probably been waiting long enough."
Wuying hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between his hand and his face. Then, with a small, graceful motion, she took it. He helped her hop down from the boulder, expecting her to let go. Instead, her fingers tightened around his, their warmth lingering.
She tugged him gently toward the garden gate, her determination written in every step. Xuefeng let himself be led, his grip on her hand steady. Maybe I should just let nature take its course, he thought. For once, he didn't fight the idea.