Chapter 29: Is there still time? It is likely too late...

Those hands were slender and fair, remarkably beautiful, and the totem on the back of the hand remained perfectly intact, as if the skeletal, withered appearance from just moments ago had been nothing more than an illusion.

Lin Zhao gripped Ji Yaoguang’s hands, examining them repeatedly—from the fingernails to the wrists, from the spaces between the fingers to the lines on the palms. He even gave the ghost-face totem on the back of the hand a firm twist.

The ghost-face totem twisted in pain, yet under a single light glance from Ji Yaoguang, it dared not bite back. It could only shrink into a ball, closing its eyes as it resigned itself to the torment.

"Don't worry, I am truly fine," Ji Yaoguang comforted him. "Regenerating flesh and blood is not a difficult task for a shaman. Furthermore, my natal totem is a tree, which is most adept at regeneration and healing. This bit of fire cannot burn me."

Only then did Lin Zhao release his hands, bowing his head in admission of his fault. "I’m sorry. I got carried away this time. The disaster-force on this thing felt so fragrant and delicious that I didn't expect it to overwhelm me..."

He looked at that purple-black feather and suddenly froze.

The purple-black luster on the feather was slowly fading, revealing a bronzed color that grew increasingly bright as he absorbed its energy.

"The Feather of the Purple Sun—it is truly the source of calamity," Ji Yaoguang sighed softly. "In this world, I imagine you are the only one who could purify it."

Not only could he purify it, but he could also convert the power of disaster into sustenance for rapid growth. No wonder the Twelve Shamanic Hours had sought to re-nurture the Golden Crow. If the Shamanic Kingdom had known such an egg existed in the Vast Sea, they would have fought to the death to reach it ten thousand years ago.

"Are you not angry?" Lin Zhao looked at him skeptically.

"Angry about what?" Ji Yaoguang’s expression held a hint of confusion.

"I didn't listen to you," Lin Zhao said, bracing himself for a lecture. "You said there was danger, and I touched it anyway. Shouldn't you be getting angry right now to prove you were right?"

Ji Yaoguang’s lips curved upward. "There is no need. With your intelligence and agility, Ah Zhao, you will surely be careful next time after learning this lesson. Besides, as long as you are safe, what use do I have for being 'right'?"

Lin Zhao ground his teeth, feeling a mix of frustration and endearment. "Old Tree, your temper is so good—were you really never bullied in the past?"

What should he do? He always felt that the Old Tree had become his responsibility.

"That is just your imagination. In truth, I used to be quite arrogant, short-tempered, and stubborn," Ji Yaoguang shook his head helplessly. "It was only after being battered by hardship that I had nothing but time in the Vast Sea to reflect on the past. I realized that many things could have been handled better if approached differently."

"Fine, as long as you're okay. Don't be so reckless in the future," Lin Zhao chided, gesturing with his hand. "Especially with things like this fire—don't touch them without my permission, understand?"

"Understood!"

"And another thing: if you see that I’ve touched something that won't come off and is going to infect you, just chop your hand off next time! I’m not afraid of that!" Lin Zhao said, still lingering in fear, and lectured him, "That was too bold! Weren't you afraid of being infected?"

"Understood!"

"When I am in the wrong, hit me if you need to, scold me if you need to. I’m not that petty; I won't hold a grudge!"

"Understood!"

"Understood, my foot! Are you even listening?" Lin Zhao narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Of course I am listening," Ji Yaoguang replied, suppressing a laugh. "But these things are for me to weigh. Rest assured, when the time truly comes, I am not one to be soft-hearted."

***

Lin Zhao let out a breath of relief. "Fine, let’s leave this matter aside for now. Come, look at this feather and tell me what it actually is."

Ji Yaoguang picked up the feather, which had turned completely gold. He noticed it was now burning with a layer of golden flames that rippled like waves.

"You must have guessed it by now; this is a Feather of the Purple Sun," Ji Yaoguang said, his expression grave. "The Purple Sun is the source of corruption in the human world; it has never touched the ground. If one flies close to it, they are rapidly corrupted. For these past ten thousand years, no one has ever observed the Purple Sun shedding feathers. Where could this have come from?"

"If it’s a bird, it’s bound to molt," Lin Zhao thought of the sun that never set in the Vast Sea. "Perhaps the sun outside is long dead, and the one flying in the Vast Sea is just a corpse, while the one left outside is merely a soul that remembers to clock in for work."

*Hiss.* Thinking about it that way, this Purple Golden Crow was truly miserable.

"Ah Zhao," Ji Yaoguang whispered a reminder, "you are also a Golden Crow. In the future, you too will have to patrol the sky every day..."

"I’m still young, aren't I?" Lin Zhao waved his hand dismissively, already complaining about the prospect. "That Houyi of yours—the ten Golden Crow brothers were doing just fine working one day and resting nine. You all forced them to work without any breaks. Only when the sun was ruined did you think about training replacements. Isn't that just 'sharpening the spear at the last minute'?"

"If it's a bird, it will molt... Have you ever shed any feathers?"

"I... I only have a few, how could I possibly shed them!" As he said this, Lin Zhao felt a flicker of worry. He pulled open the collar of his shirt to count the feathers of the totem on his chest, only to be surprised to find that the pattern of a few feathers had vanished. In their place was a small wing, slightly larger than a fingertip.

"Wow, Old Tree, look! I’ve grown wings!!!" He was overjoyed. "This wretched feather may have caused me some pain, but the energy was massive! Look, I’ve grown little wings!"

Ji Yaoguang looked closely. He raised a hand, wanting to touch them, but felt it would be intrusive, so he pulled back.

"If you want to touch it, just do it," Lin Zhao grabbed his hand and pressed it against his chest. "Does this totem feel a bit smooth? Does it feel like a feather? When do you think I'll be able to grow full wings... why are you pulling your hand away?"

Ji Yaoguang withdrew his hand helplessly and pulled him into an embrace. "Ah Zhao, that is enough. Really, don't be afraid. I am an Emperor above the Heavenly Shamans. Though I have fallen on hard times recently, I am truly not that frail. On the shamanic battlefields, blood, flesh, and broken bones are common sights. I thought you were accustomed to them, which is why I was so careless as to frighten you. There will not be a next time, alright?"

Lin Zhao did not speak.

After a long while, the person in his arms murmured dully, "In the past, there was an old shaman who was very kind to me. He also said he would give me a Golden Crow feather, that he had no regrets, and then he left. He left me all alone in the Vast Sea."

Back then, he had been so afraid. He always went to find the Ghost Face because it was the only living thing in his dreams. He was afraid that if even that little bit of life disappeared, he wouldn't know if he was still alive himself.

Ji Yaoguang stroked his short hair. "I promise you, if I ever have to leave, I will certainly tell you in advance."

"If you can't say anything nice, you don't have to talk at all." Lin Zhao pushed him away, his voice thick with nasal congestion. "I actually... I just thought of something unpleasant earlier. I’m not that weak... Fine, fine. I’m not very old, and I haven't seen much of the world before, so having a bit of a stress response isn't exactly a crime."

Heaven have mercy—he was just a sheltered, well-behaved student before. Coming here and seeing the "big world" every day, he felt he had already performed well beyond the average person's standards. What more could one ask for?

Ji Yaoguang, recalling how the first thing Ah Zhao always did upon returning to the Vast Sea was to find him, felt an inexplicable joy. "You are right."

"Alright," Lin Zhao took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. "So, what now? Do we continue our lessons here, or do we go and deal with those Source Ghosts?"

"First find Bo Ren, then take him to find the Lord of the Di Kingdom," Ji Yaoguang said decisively.

"The Lord of the Di Kingdom? Didn't you say we couldn't see him?" Lin Zhao looked at him suspiciously. "You said that if your identity were exposed, he would drive you back to the Vast Sea."

"The fact that the Source Ghosts have appeared proves that the Di Kingdom has already been marked for sacrifice," Ji Yaoguang said, his expression solemn. "The larger the scale of the sacrifice, the more powerful the arrays and the sources of calamity required. Setting them up requires not only time but also manpower. Therefore, there must be someone in the upper echelons of the Di Kingdom joining them to provide convenience."

"You mean the Source Ghosts are taking advantage of this disturbance in the Vast Sea to collude with the Di Kingdom's upper echelons, planning an inside-out job to sacrifice the entire kingdom?" Lin Zhao was deeply puzzled. "What do those people gain from this? If they want to seize power, what's the point if the kingdom is gone? Is it just self-destructive, petty joy?"

"Great Shamans joining the Source Ghosts is nothing new. They have many reasons," Ji Yaoguang paused. "The most common one is that their pollution has reached a critical point. They neither want to enter the Sacred Fire nor give up their shamanic power. Thus, they use the arts of the Source Ghosts to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of lives to share the burden of that corruption and extend their own lives."

"That makes perfect sense," Lin Zhao suddenly felt the weight of the responsibility and stepped forward to pat Ji Yaoguang on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Old Tree, I’ll have your back from now on. Once I grow up, those people will definitely not join the Source Ghosts."

"Ah Zhao, until you become a Heavenly Shaman, please try to keep a low profile."

"Talk too much. Let’s go, find Bo Ren." Lin Zhao put away the golden feather and looked around. "I should have grabbed him earlier; now I don't know where he’s gone."

Ji Yaoguang smiled calmly, reached out, and pointed gently in the direction Bo Ren had left.

In an instant, countless tiny, crystalline specks of light formed a path, pointing toward the distance.

"What is this?" Lin Zhao asked, surprised.

Ji Yaoguang smiled. "Nothing much, just some mushroom spores I planted on him earlier. They can show the way and can even be transmitted to anyone he comes into contact with."

***

At the same time, Bo Ren, wearing the appearance of a delicate and handsome youth, slowly knocked on the gate of a compound in the academy city.

The two people currently entangled in the courtyard froze.

Bo Ren looked at his younger brother, who was bruised and swollen, and then at the fierce-looking youth pressing him down. He smiled with genuine interest. "Little brother, I told you to participate in more sacrifices, but you wouldn't listen. Look at you now—you can’t even beat a shamanic apprentice."

Weisheng Wu stood up, pulled the beaten youth to his feet, and looked grave. "What you said was actually true."

"I’ll hold him off, you run!" Bo Rang said weakly.

"Run? Do you think he’s a useless waste like you?" Weisheng Wu sneered coldly. "I have already used the ancestral secret art of the Weisheng family to notify my father. If you kill me, he will soon inform the Lord of the Kingdom, and you Source Ghosts will surely be wiped out."

Bo Ren curled his lips mockingly and spoke to the space behind the youth. "Official Weisheng, it turns out your family has such secret arts."

Weisheng Wu was startled. He heard a steady voice from behind him. "You flatter us, sir. Our family possesses no such secret art."

The youth froze completely. He turned around in disbelief to see a familiar face—a man wearing official green robes and a White Marsh shamanic crown—looking at him helplessly.

"Father?" Weisheng Wu retreated a step in fear and dread. "Why? Our family is protected by ancestral spirits; we are a loyal and brave lineage with three thousand years of history! We have operated in the Shamanic Kingdom for three millennia, a great clan of heroes! You are a prodigy who emerged from Mount Shantu, with the potential to break through to the rank of Heavenly Shaman—"

The elegant middle-aged man sighed softly. "Ah Wu, your father is powerless. The corruption of our ancestral spirits has reached its limit. If we do not find another way, we will no longer be able to preserve them."