Chapter Eight: The Legendary Starforger

"Come here."

Feng Shang’s voice was light yet commanding, his eyes gleaming with a ghostly light. The vast space around them grew as cold as ice, the oppressive force that imprisoned time crashing down like mountains and seas.

In his hand hovered a small, ancient, and enigmatic artifact. Runes shimmered across its surface, emanating a peculiar law and order, bestowing a sense of suffocation as though one were gazing up at an unattainable peak.

Half-Scarlet was inwardly shaken.

Its spirit form tried to break free, splitting into a wave of cold, white aura and a crimson glow. The two mingled, rapidly forming a faint, misty realm. In the blink of an eye, it vibrated millions of times.

Yet by the time Feng Shang's words fell, the outcome was sealed.

Within its spirit core, torrents of overwhelming, boundless spiritual power rapidly stilled and faded. In the next instant, they froze in place as if time itself had stopped—an utterly tyrannical force.

Was this little guest truly so strong?

Half-Scarlet was filled with terror. Its body felt as if its soul had been torn away, becoming little more than an empty vessel, to be handled at the youth’s will.

Here, in this sanctuary, she was already considered a formidable being, having undergone several arduous transformations and been gifted with vast amounts of world power.

She even possessed a Scarlet Domain; as long as she stood within it, her strength would multiply many times over. Yet before the youth’s unfathomable methods, she was reduced to nothing more than a paper tiger.

This child was so young—no matter how gifted, he couldn’t possibly have cultivated to such a profound level. Could it be he carried some incredible treasure?

“What just happened?”

Little Lily had stopped crying, stunned as she stared at Half-Scarlet, frozen in midair a meter before Feng Shang. Her proud senior from the Sea of Flowers was utterly immobilized.

“So frail,” Feng Shang remarked coolly, seizing Half-Scarlet. This once-mighty spirit of the flower sea now resembled nothing more than a soulless arrow, beautiful in form but empty within. The youth glanced at it twice with indifference, then casually stowed it away.

Little Lily looked at the youth in disbelief.

Not until Half-Scarlet was taken did the boy’s face regain its calm detachment. Only then did Little Lily, voice trembling, manage to ask, “You… you… what did you do to Senior Half-Scarlet?”

“Foolish thing, daring to lay a hand on me.”

“You… did you kill her?” Little Lily asked, terrified.

“No, kept her.” Feng Shang glanced at the frightened Little Lily and chuckled. “Weren’t you complaining about being captured alone? Now you have a companion to share your woes. Isn’t that enough?”

Little Lily’s heart skipped a beat.

“Come, let’s keep catching more!” the youth said, brimming with spirit.

…

The Sea of Flowers was a realm of countless wonders: stars scattered across the sky, a radiant purple firmament, night and dawn side by side, vast emerald clouds, all distinct yet ever-changing with the tides of spirit power.

Far to the east, the glowing boundary faded away.

Beneath the deep blue heavens stood a range of towering, majestic snow-peaks, blanketed in dazzling white, like silver giants unmoving for eons under the morning stars.

Here dwelled a Flower Sovereign.

At the summit of the central peak, amidst the pristine snow, bloomed a pure celestial flower, a yard wide and tall, with twelve crystal-clear petals. Within it slept a woman clad in white.

Her eyes opened, suddenly gleaming with resplendent hues. Her bearing was extraordinary; long, straight, jet-black hair danced in the wind, her beauty beyond compare.

A faint smile curved her red lips perfectly as she mused, “A hundred years in seclusion, yet no enlightenment. My progress is slow. But it seems I’ve awoken just in time for our little Jiuyue’s first blossoming.”

With a gentle smile, the white-clad woman rose gracefully.

“Hmm? The young master of Nine-Star City, so spirited. Sister Fan, usually so aloof, actually presented him with a rare token? Has the sun risen in the west? And this boy dares bully our flower spirits like this—defended or not, isn’t that going too far?”

Hardly awake, the woman spoke to herself. Her divine sense swept out, connecting with the spirits of the flower sea, and in an instant, she learned all that had transpired over the last century.

“Well, well, in such a short time, he’s already seized over a dozen of my flower spirits. How outrageous!” Her gaze flashed a beam of light, spotting the increasingly brazen young man.

She pondered briefly, a strange glint in her eyes and a subtle smile on her lips. Then, in an instant, her figure vanished.

…

Around a stone as tall as a man, the floral sea ebbed and flowed, its fragrance intoxicating.

A lively young girl blinked her eyes, gazing toward the far edge of the flower sea. Information from the spirits reached her, painting her delicate face with surprise.

“Windgrass, is there a guest in the Sea of Flowers today?” she wondered.

Wasn’t the flower sea closed off?

Her birth was exceptional—destined from the start to be different. She was the culmination of nine generations and a blessing from the spiritual cosmos itself.

She remembered well the delight and doting gazes of several ancient and unchanging Sovereigns when she first opened her eyes.

Such extraordinary meaning, if revealed to the outside world, would undoubtedly cause a great stir—perhaps even attract the covetous eyes of the universe’s greatest figures.

Nine years ago, the Sea of Flowers had been sealed, closed to all outsiders since. More than half of the spirits within had no knowledge of her existence.

How could there be visitors today?

“Guests? I’ll find out.”

“Oh! It’s that legendary Star-Refiner, come for your first blossoming!” cried the little blade of grass in astonishment.

“That Senior Nine-Star?” The lively girl’s bright eyes widened in awe. That oddly named elder was no ordinary figure; the price for his services was enough to make most cosmic powers sigh and turn away in envy.

She had often heard the little blade of grass mention him—universally acknowledged as the greatest Star-Refiner in the spiritual cosmos!

“Yes, him. When Immortal Li first blossomed, she too invited this great one,” the little grass said, curling its leaves in rare admiration.

For her first blossoming, her elders had gone to great lengths—personally seeking rare treasures, even calling in favors and requesting the aid of the Sacred Star Palace. Only then had they managed to gather ninety-nine extraordinary and mysterious stars.

Even so, that was merely good preparation.

Only by inviting this near-divine master could they be confident of refining the perfect Celestial Spirit Vessel!

As an old poem goes:

Rare are the ancient Star-Refiners, splitting starlight and shaking the seas,
White-haired wanderers, idly recounting the grandeur of the Nine Greats.

In the ancient epochs of the spiritual cosmos, true Star-Refiners were few. When they refined divine spirits, starlight split the river of stars, brilliant beyond compare, astonishing the universe.

A few white-haired wanderers, sitting idly, would speak of the overwhelming aura of the Nine Great Refiners in bygone days.

The poem’s imagery and mood are vivid, using the wanderers’ reminiscences to highlight the Star-Refiners’ skill and to express deep admiration.

Who composed it has long been forgotten.

Most likely, it was the work of some destitute scholar—unknown to fame, yet so enamored with the Star-Refiners’ wonders that he poured his longing and imagination onto the page.