Chapter Six: Three Thousand Phantom Crystals

“Is that a spiritual entity as well?”

Standing amidst the myriad blooms, Feng Xiang gazed up at the sky in puzzlement.

A golden, blazing star—its diameter nearly ninety thousand miles—hung suspended high above. Torrents of spiritual energy, unable to withstand its gravitational pull, forked midair and streamed toward it. It was, without doubt, the most dazzling presence in the floral heavens above.

“That is a Sunstar Blossom, one that has transcended the shackles of lifespan. It’s quite rare,” Da Jiuxing explained.

No wonder Feng Xiang was surprised; this star was, in truth, a spiritual entity.

The Sunstar Blossom was an extraordinary spirit—one that roamed the cosmos. At first, it was no larger than a basin, but as it matured, surviving the ordeal of evolutionary thunder, its body would swell a thousandfold, until it could rival the size of a true star.

In the frigid, dark expanse of space, a Sunstar Blossom with a diameter of ninety thousand miles burned its spiritual energy, its radiance so brilliant that cultivators from afar would mistake it for a sun and steer clear.

There was a Sunstar Blossom in Star City, too, but that one had barely reached a thousand miles. Far from igniting its own sun, it had required a venerable starmaster’s painstaking cultivation and countless rare resources to reach even that size.

“To think it could grow so vast.”

Feng Xiang clicked his tongue in awe.

After Fan Zhutian’s warning, the flower spirits fell silent, but that did not mean they behaved themselves. Clustered in small groups, stalks and tufts, they eyed the two guests with curiosity.

Those with spiritual power slipped through the blooms, using towering spirit trees as cover, spying on Feng Xiang from fifteen or twenty feet away—scanning him from head to toe, as though studying some rare beast.

There were feathered peonies, mist orchids, white trefoils, green chives… None very large, likely newly awakened, their curiosity untempered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Feng Xiang caught sight of these little spirits, each focusing intently on him—their numbers considerable. He feigned a fierce glare, startling them into squeals and flight, though their bright, inquisitive eyes still peeked out at him, blinking.

“Still staring?”

Feng Xiang flashed a wicked grin at the little spirits.

He extended his right hand, a hazy cyan glow instantly enveloping his palm. As he swept his arm, the air howled—dozens of blue needles whipped through the cluster, landing squarely on the little spirits’ behinds.

“Ow…”

“Aiya! Mother!”

“It hurts! Mama!”

“Ah—Grandma!”

Cries of pain arose from every direction. The young ones, startled and panicked, dove into the sea of flowers. Those untouched by the assault were nonetheless frightened out of their wits; after a brief hesitation, they too scampered away.

“Such timid creatures,” Feng Xiang chuckled.

Da Jiuxing looked on, somewhat displeased, and admonished, “Spiritual beings are not easily born. How could you bear to lay a cruel hand on such delicate flowers?”

“I’m helping them,” Feng Xiang replied carelessly, shaking the blue light from his hand. “Let them suffer a little—they mustn’t become flowers sheltered in a greenhouse.”

Da Jiuxing was speechless. That was a lesson he himself had once taught Feng Xiang, now turned against him with skillful aplomb.

Fan Zhutian’s beautiful eyes rested briefly on Feng Xiang. After a moment’s contemplation, she turned her hand, and a delicate petal-shaped token appeared in a shimmer of light. With a ripple of spiritual energy, she guided it to Feng Xiang.

“What’s this?” Feng Xiang caught the petal token. It felt soft and unlike any mundane object.

“With this token, the flower sea will be open to you.”

Her voice was melodious, if a touch indifferent. “Young master, since you are new to the flower sea, feel free to explore. But remember—harm none of them. Should any spirit desire to follow you, you may take them with you.”

“A Mirrored Token,” Da Jiuxing remarked, surprise flickering in his eyes. He sent a mental message to Feng Xiang: “With this in hand, you may choose any spirits you wish from the flower sea. A hundred or more would not be denied you.”

To possess a Mirrored Token granted immense authority within the flower sea. Yet such tokens were rare and never lightly bestowed—only the most honored guests received them. It was a mark of great distinction.

“Oh? I may take spirits—any at all?” Feng Xiang was taken aback, then comprehension dawned, and his gaze grew fervent as he alighted upon Fan Zhutian’s flawless, snow-pale, exquisitely beautiful face.

Could he choose her?

Da Jiuxing’s expression darkened. “Below the level of the Flower Sea Sovereign,” he snapped.

“So, there is a limit,” Feng Xiang sighed. Had Da Jiuxing not clarified, he reckoned he would already be standing before Fan Zhutian, declaring honestly, “I like you most—come with me!”

Alas, it was not to be.

Thus, the token’s value was somewhat diminished. Even without it, he had confidence in his own abilities; save for those at the Sovereign’s level, he doubted there was any spirit in the flower sea he could not take—not even the Sunstar Blossom, massive as it was, would pose a real challenge.

“Well, since I’m here as a legitimate guest, it wouldn’t do to simply steal spirits. Now, who was it that was watching me just now?” Toying with the delicate Mirrored Token, Feng Xiang’s lips curled into a sly smile as he surveyed the surrounding blooms.

“Oh no, Lord Fan has given him a Mirrored Token!”

“Run, run, don’t let him notice me!”

“I’m still young—I don’t want to leave…”

The little spirits, thrown into chaos, scattered with shrill cries.

“I’m off to choose my spirits.”

A spark of excitement lit Feng Xiang’s eyes.

Bullying the weak was his specialty. Every little one who had gossiped or ogled him just now—none would escape!

...

“This child…” Da Jiuxing shook his head in resignation, watching as Feng Xiang plunged into the beds of starry blooms, chasing after the adorable spirits.

Fan Zhutian’s gaze drifted, falling to the faint, narrow mark upon her snowy wrist. To call it a scar would be a misnomer—it was merely a pale, indistinct line.

So slight, and hidden on the inside of her wrist—yet how had he noticed it at once?

Before the current era, she had sundered her past more than once, forging ahead through destruction. She had nearly forgotten the scar’s origin, recalling only a hazy impression:

A vast, star-strewn sky, dark and cold; a lone green bamboo drifted aimlessly, seeking warmth and solace. One day, somewhere, she encountered a wondrous thing, drawn to its radiance—only to suffer a small wound…

“Esteemed Da Zun, there are tales of your unique true form in the Spirit Universe. Could it be that your son is the same?” Fan Zhutian’s tone was calm and pure, her elegant face betraying no emotion.

“Oh? You can’t tell?” Da Jiuxing smiled at her.

“There’s an aura masking your son. Even without it, I could only guess,” she replied.

“Indeed. Xiang’er is of my lineage. Though not born in my era, he is still the Spirit Universe’s most favored child.” Da Jiuxing stroked his long beard, a trace of pride in his voice.

Such praise was not easily uttered by most. Perhaps only the Spirit Universe, with all its wondrous splendor and the miracles born among countless lives, was worthy of it.

“Mm.”

A nameless light flickered in the clear depths of Fan Zhutian’s eyes.

“Come to think of it, there is a lively energy about the young master—void energies follow wherever he goes,” she said softly.

Da Jiuxing mused for a moment, then replied, “Xiang’er’s true form… is indeed a spatial super-core, with three thousand void crystals—belonging to the fourth realm. This is no great secret, but best not spoken of lightly.”

“So that’s how it is. I understand.”

Fan Zhutian’s expression remained tranquil, but in the star-lit depths of her eyes, an unprecedented tremor surged—a wave tossing a lone boat upon a vast and stormy sea.