The night wind was soft, carrying the faint scent of flowers and dew. In the Savannah Courtyard, where the moonlight poured through the open ceiling and danced on the faint green glow, Wei Ji sat cross-legged at the center of it all. His body was still covered with faint cuts and bruises, but the living plants that surrounded him pulsed with slow, steady life.
Thick vines curled around his arms and shoulders, their leaves releasing tiny shimmering spores that floated in the air before melting into his wounds.
The light was gentle, but it hummed with a deep vitality that made the air feel almost alive.
Lu Shaohua sat quietly before him, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. She didn't speak at first. The glow of the plants reflected on her face, making her dark eyes gleam faintly like wet jade. She leaned a little forward, her fingers clasped on her lap.
"Young master Han Ji," she finally said, her voice low but curious. "Can I learn that?"
