The scene unfolds with an intensity that grips the soul, each moment crackling with raw emotion and unrelenting power. Fang Yuan awakens from his nightmare—a living abyss of despair that had clawed at the very fabric of his being—but now, something far more formidable stirs within him. It is not hope in its purest form but a ferocious resolve, a blazing inferno forged in the crucible of suffering. His eyes, once hollow voids, now burn like twin suns, radiating defiance against the suffocating darkness that once sought to consume him. The despair lingers, yes—it clings to him like a shadow cast by an eternal storm—but it has been subdued, forced into submission beneath the sheer weight of his ironclad will. His heart, once a battlefield of anguish and regret, now beats with a rhythm of defiance, a drum of war against the shadows that seek to consume him.
Above him, Gu Xianer's face trembles with anguish, her tear-streaked cheeks shimmering under the dim light. Her body convulses with sobs so visceral, so heart-wrenching, that they seem to echo through the very air around them. She presses her forehead to his, her breath hitching as if every exhale carries the fear of losing him again. Her love for him is a force unto itself—an unstoppable tide of devotion that refuses to yield even to the brink of death. And yet, amidst her sorrow, there burns a flame of hope so radiant, so fierce, that it feels as though she alone could drag him back from the abyss with nothing but the strength of her unwavering faith.
Fang Yuan sits up slowly, each movement deliberate, heavy with the burden of all he endured in that hellish dream. But when he looks at Gu Xianer—truly sees her—for the first time in what feels like an eternity, something shifts inside him. A dam breaks, and emotions long suppressed flood forth. Without hesitation, he pulls her into an embrace so tight it feels as though he might crush her. Yet, there is no violence in this act, only desperation—a need to hold onto the one thing tethering him to life. For a fleeting moment, Gu Xianer freezes, caught off guard by the suddenness of it all. Then, recognition dawns, and her face erupts into a joy so profound it seems to light up the world. She throws her arms around him, clinging to him with everything she has, her tears flowing freely once more—but these are tears of relief, of triumph. She doesn't understand what happened, nor does she care. All that matters is that her brother is here, alive, holding her as though she is the center of his universe.
And then, the impossible occurs—a spectacle so breathtaking, so transcendent, that it leaves everyone present utterly speechless.
The water beneath them, which had turned black and lifeless during Fang Yuan's collapse, begins to glow again. But this time, the light is brighter, more radiant than ever before, as though the river itself is rejoicing. The bugs and insects that had fled, their lights extinguished in despair, return to life, glowing softly with renewed purpose. The flowers that had withered and died bloom anew, their petals shimmering with an ethereal brilliance that defies comprehension. It's as if the entire River of Flowers has been reborn—not merely restored to its former glory, but elevated to a state of divine splendor.
But the true marvel lies ahead.
All the light—the glowing bugs, the radiant fish, the shimmering flowers—begins to converge around Fang Yuan and Gu Xianer, forming two distinct circles. On one side, Gu Xianer becomes the epicenter of a dazzling explosion of hope and vitality. The bugs swarm around her, the fish weave intricate patterns beneath her feet, and the flowers orbit her like tiny suns. Every inch of her radiates warmth and optimism so potent that it feels as though she has become the embodiment of hope itself. Even the water beneath her glows brightly, pulsing with energy as if responding to her boundless spirit.
On the other side, however, the scene is markedly different. The lights surrounding Fang Yuan remain at a distance, hesitant, as if held back by some invisible barrier. They are drawn to him, yes—pulled by the flicker of determination burning deep within—but none dare approach too closely. Instead, they hover cautiously, creating a stark contrast between the vibrant brilliance encircling Gu Xianer and the subdued, restrained glow near Fang Yuan. It's as if the light recognizes the darkness still lingering within him, respecting its power while simultaneously being drawn to the fragile yet unbreakable flame of perseverance.
The juxtaposition is awe-inspiring. One side is a symphony of life and hope, centered on Gu Xianer, who shines brighter than the stars themselves. The other side is quieter, more subdued, yet no less compelling—a testament to Fang Yuan's newfound resilience, a fragile but indomitable spark amidst the shadows.
Everyone watches in stunned silence, their mouths agape, unable to articulate the beauty and strangeness of the scene unfolding before them. It's not just awe-inspiring; it's otherworldly. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the world holding its breath as the River of Flowers transforms into a canvas of light and shadow, hope and resilience.
Suddenly, all the gathered light converges into Gu Xianer's body in a blinding flash, vanishing entirely. Both Fang Yuan and Gu Xianer feel a strange sensation wash over them—a warmth spreading through their chests, filling them with a connection deeper than words can describe. It is as if something has formed inside their bodies. Though it feels located within them, it is simultaneously beyond physical boundaries. They realize it is called the primeval aperture—the first step toward achieving immortality. It feels endlessly vast, yet infinitely small.
After a few moments, the clan elders snap out of their trance, exchanging bewildered glances before rushing toward Fang Yuan and Gu Xianer. Their faces are a mixture of shock, curiosity, and confusion, as if they've witnessed something unprecedented and impossible.
They gather around Fang Yuan first, checking his primeval aperture by holding his hand and sensing the energy within him. After a moment of silence, their expressions shift from curiosity to disbelief. One elder shouts, "How can this be possible?!" Another shakes his head gravely, declaring loudly enough for everyone to hear:
"Fang Yuan… no grade! 0% primeval essence!"
Fang Yuan has awakened his primeval aperture, but it is utterly empty. There is not a single drop of primeval essence. This indicates he has no talent for cultivation, and his primeval aperture should never have awakened in the first place. The elders exchange uneasy glances, their voices hushed but laced with unease. "This is unheard of," one mutters. "An anomaly… or perhaps a curse."