Chapter Seven: Half a Crimson Arrow

“We’re almost caught up!”

“Don’t grab me, help!”

…

In the midst of the pure white Guzza blooms, luminous and fragrant, a flurry of little spirits scampered in panic, darting every which way.

For a moment, spiritual power shimmered in wild arcs—red, blue, yellow, violet—hundreds upon hundreds of streaks, dazzling the eye with their riot of color.

Those with some skill dove into the earth, trembling as they hid.

Yet the youth behind them, though he seemed to stroll at his leisure, taking slow and measured steps, could not be shaken off.

“Do you really think you can run from me?” Feng Shang followed at an unhurried pace, jade-green light swirling about his feet, lifting him nine inches above the ground, his speed just a shade faster than the fleeing rainbow glimmers.

“I have a Phantom Token here—the Lord Divine said himself, any spirit I fancy, I may take as I please.” He raised the ornate token in his hand, a playful glint in his eye as he regarded the frantic little things.

“Hmph, you’ll never find me.”

Beneath the March Spirit Tree, a tiny lily hid by the violet-red petals of a fragrant flower, leaves transformed into a pair of watchful eyes, peeking at the youth in secret, humming with pride.

So well hidden—let’s see him find me, she thought.

The little lily was just two years old, at that tender, sensitive age. When she heard a youth had come from beyond the sea of flowers, she’d made the long journey from her slope to see him, only to stumble into misfortune.

“Oh? You think I can’t find you?”

Feng Shang’s ears twitched. Suddenly, he turned, a sharp light flashing in his eyes. With a gesture, power surged through the air—a river of azure energy swept toward the source of the sound.

The little lily froze, stem and leaves petrified with dread.

Heavens above!

How could his hearing be so sharp?

Stunned and frantic, she was just about to move when, with a whoosh, she darted from her now-exposed hiding place.

Wait—where is this?

Her spirit-forged eyes darted about, realizing she was no longer where she’d been. Her mind raced: Could she have awakened the art of teleportation at her moment of peril?

Could it be that she, a humble lily, possessed such a gift?

“What are you thinking about?” Feng Shang’s indifferent gaze settled upon her, noting she had yet to accept her fate. With a pinch of his fingers, the little lily was squeezed together, her delicate petals nearly torn, making her cry out in pain.

Had she been able to take human form, the little flower girl would surely have wept with pitiful tears.

“You’re the first.”

Feng Shang declared coolly.

The little flower spirit was on the verge of tears, a chill seeping into her heart. She could only wag her leaf and plead, “Big brother, I’m still so small, can’t you let me go?”

“Let you go?”

Feng Shang smiled, poking her petals with a finger. “Just for that smugness when you thought I couldn’t find you, don’t even dream of escaping my grasp.

Now you want to play cute and beg for mercy?

Adorable.

But don’t think that will soften me.

Since you liked sneaking peeks at me so much, I’ll let you look all you want.”

The little lily wilted.

Feng Shang conjured a strand of green light, swiftly binding her and fastening her to his ear. She swung like a little swing, rising and falling with his steps.

Her look of anxious uncertainty and unshed tears was thoroughly amusing.

The sea of flowers teemed with spiritual energy, saturated with delightful scents. For mortals, the fragrance here was as potent as any elixir, able to transform the body, clear the meridians, and nourish the blood.

In places where countless aromas mingled, even seasoned cultivators could save years of effort with a single breath.

As Feng Shang admired the unique splendor of the flower sea, he gathered up the little flower spirits. The pitiable creature dangling from his ear served as an example, leaving the others trembling in fear.

To the little lily’s dismay, though Feng Shang captured many flower spirits, he did not give her a companion to share her fate.

“Why only catch me?” she protested.

“I seize whom I please. Don’t presume to argue with your master.” Feng Shang flicked her lightly. She cried out as her tiny form rocked in the air, a helpless sparrow awaiting the scythe of autumn.

The little lily seethed with indignation at her repeated mistreatment.

If only she had the power, she’d show the youth who was boss—a little flower spirit is not so easily bullied!

But fate was cruel: after two years of life, what strength could she possess?

She sighed, dreading the uncertain future, fearful the youth might torment her further.

“What kind of spirit is that?” Feng Shang asked abruptly.

Ten miles away, crimson clouds blazed, a rain of light falling and rising in a glorious spectacle.

A strange spirit was absorbing the essence of heaven, pale white flames leaping within, its body shrouded in light, impossible to see clearly.

The little lily, still dangling from his ear, looked over and her spirits soared. “That is Half-Scarlet, one of the powerhouses of our Flower Realm. There are not a hundred like her in the whole universe of spiritual energy—you’d best not get any ideas! Hmph!”

“My, but you have quite the attitude.” Feng Shang chuckled, squeezing her tender leaf until the lily burst into tears.

Her cry was young but piercing, echoing for miles across the flower sea. Countless flower spirits pitied the poor, unfortunate little one.

Yet, though they sympathized, none dared intervene. The youth was an honored guest, bearing the Divine Lord’s command and the Phantom Token—none would risk incurring his wrath.

In the distance, that peculiar spirit known as Half-Scarlet, wrapped in crimson and white radiance, her true form hidden, heard the lily’s wailing and sighed, almost imperceptibly.

“Little one, since you respect me, let me help you…”

Half-Scarlet shook her head, deciding to intervene. Her nature was kind, and she felt the little lily’s suffering too keenly to stand by, even though the youth was an honored guest.

Just one strike and she’d whisk the lily away, never to be found again.

With this thought, the glow parted, and a spirit appeared, white and crimson streaked together, shaped like an arrow—half pure white, half scarlet, crystalline and thicker than a bowl.

Half-Scarlet had cultivated for many years.

Though small in stature, she was pure essence, stronger even than the mighty Black Moon Snow Vine at the gates of the Temple of Spirits.

Hiss.

Half-Scarlet transformed into an arrow, unleashing a powerful pressure, cleaving the air with unstoppable force, flying straight for the little lily at the youth’s ear.

Hm?

Feng Shang, still amused by the lily’s cries, was about to comfort her and move on to capture more spirits, when he suddenly sensed an overwhelming force.

It moved with blinding speed—in the blink of an eye, Half-Scarlet was upon him.

“You dare make a move against me?”

Feng Shang’s gaze turned icy. With a scoff, he unleashed the power in his palm—a dense divine rune of unknown depth, warping the space around them, freezing time itself.

A deep hum resonated.

In the air, Half-Scarlet vibrated at an intense frequency, eclipsing the clangor of metal and stone—not from her own power, but from the youth’s restraining force.

Half-Scarlet was astonished; this little guest’s methods were extraordinary—she had acted rashly.