Zhu Zhuqing felt the hoarse voice of the person holding her. The scent—the warmth, the soothing calm—enveloped her. With every careful step the person took closer, she felt a safety she had never known. At last, she felt like she belonged somewhere. At last, she had someone she could rest with.
Her tightly held emotions began to unravel. Every last string she had been clutching snapped. She let her frustration pour out, finally giving the hug back. Tears flowed freely now, mixing sorrow with relief. For the first time in who knew how long, she let herself release everything: the depression, the pain, the fear. She finally let go. She needed this hug—needed it to remind herself she wasn't alone.
Her tears streamed down her face, masking her anguish, and the hug tightened. Lili's voice ran through her mind like a gentle current, assuring her that it was okay to be afraid, okay to be alone, okay to hide in the dark, okay to fight by herself. You've made it this far—that's a blessing. That's an achievement. You've survived, and you've done well.
"It's okay now… just rest… everything will be alright," Lili murmured.
As the words penetrated, Zhu Zhuqing's body relaxed, her shoulders slumping, and finally, she drifted into a quiet, peaceful sleep in his arms.
Lili stared at the blue sky above as he spoke. His face betrayed nothing—not a tear, not a twitch, not a shadow of emotion. Devoid, empty, uninterested. Yet, he held her tightly, acutely aware of how fragile she was. His actions were unnecessary, yet he couldn't help himself. Was it pity? Or a strange resonance—a memory of his own pain mirrored in hers? For the first time in his life, he had reached out to another human being, telling them, silently, that everything would be okay.
And perhaps… if someone had done the same for him, maybe things would have been different.
He continued to stare at the sky, thoughts wandering to places he wished he didn't have to think about. Then, glancing down at his chest, he saw Zhu Zhuqing sleeping silently against him, hugging him back in trust. He observed her carefully, yet his face remained unchanged—uninterested, unfeeling.
He simply held her. Tight enough to lend support, but no more, no less. Just a hand offered quietly in a cruel, indifferent world.
♤
Earlier that morning, Zhu Zhuqing slowly opened her eyes. She was lying in a bed, a white blanket covering her body.
Her gaze drifted to the ceiling. She stared blankly, silent, unmoving.
Fragments of memory surfaced. She remembered breaking down in front of a stranger… being held… then falling asleep.
Her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, thoughts scattered and distant. She felt no presence around her. Slowly, she opened her mouth and muttered in a faint voice,
"A-alone again…"
She tried to sit up. As she did, something on the table beside her bed caught her attention. Zhu Zhuqing turned her head and stared.
A flower.
It had a light green stem and leaves, and a faint glow radiated from its center. The scent was unfamiliar—something she had never smelled before. As it reached her senses, she felt it immediately. Her cultivation was rising. The bottleneck she had struggled with for so long felt as though it was loosening.
Shock flickered across her face.
Yet she didn't rush toward it. Instead, her eyes scanned the room again, searching for someone—anyone. But no one was there. The only trace left behind was the flower resting quietly on the table.
She slowly stood up and approached it. With every step closer, the sensation intensified. Her soul power surged, the bottleneck weakening even further. She swallowed, eyes fixed on the flower.
Then she noticed something else.
Carved into the surface of the table were words—etched by a knife or some sharp object. The writing was shaky and rough, but she could read it.
"Don't cry anymore… here's the only thing I can help you with. Consume the flower. It will help you."
She stared at the words.
She didn't know who the person was, nor why she had felt so vulnerable in front of them—why her mask had fallen so easily, why she had spoken with her true self exposed.
Her eyes lingered on the carving. She read it again. And again.
Without saying a word, she slowly picked up the flower. In her hand, it seemed even more radiant. Her soul power pulsed violently in response.
Without remorse. Without hesitation.
She bit into it, crunching and swallowing it whole.
She didn't care if it was poison. She didn't care if it was dangerous, or if it might kill her. Zhu Zhuqing no longer cared what would happen to her. If even the one person who had offered her arms as a place to rest could betray her… then who in this world could she trust anymore?
She stood there silently, waiting for death to come.
But something felt different.
Her soul power began to rise—violently, uncontrollably, at an unbelievable rate. She felt it immediately. Without wasting a single moment, she sat down in a lotus position and began to meditate, focusing on controlling and absorbing the overwhelming energy flooding through her body.
♤
Zhu Zhuqing couldn't believe it.
Her original cultivation had been at Level 27 (Spirit Grandmaster).
But the energy from the flower surged through her body like a raging tide.
Twenty-seven… twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty.
She thought it was over.
It wasn't.
Her soul power continued to climb—thirty-one… thirty-two… thirty-three… thirty-four.
"Ahh~"
Her breath trembled as the surge finally settled. Seven levels.
Her soul power had risen by seven entire levels in one go.
She was completely dumbfounded.
Just what… did that person give me?
And it wasn't only her soul power. She could clearly feel it—
The flower's primary function was revealing itself. It softened her muscles, mended her bones, and cleared the Eight Extraordinary Meridians, leaving her body in a state she had never experienced before.
Her combat abilities surged alongside it.
Her dexterity, speed, and attack power were all dramatically enhanced—critical attributes for an Agility-type Spirit Master like her. Every movement felt lighter, sharper, more precise, as if her body had been reforged.
"Ju-just… what is this flower…?"
Zhu Zhuqing was astonished—no, utterly stunned. A stranger she had met only yesterday had given her something so unbelievable. Someone she barely knew, someone just as strange as herself… yet someone who had changed her fate in a single night.
Her chest tightened. She wanted to cry again.
But she held it back.
Because of the words carved into the table.
Don't cry anymore.
And so Zhu Zhuqing clenched her fists lightly, steadying her breath, doing her very best to obey those words—
even as her heart trembled.