"Then," Jing Yuan asked, leaning forward slightly, "how do you intend to proceed?"
His attitude was clearly supportive now.
"So long as it does not endanger Luofu's security or touch forbidden longevity taboos, the Seat of Divine Foresight will provide full support."
Yichen fell silent for a moment, as if weighing something.
At last, he sighed lightly—like he'd made a decision.
"Since the General has shown such sincerity—personally visiting my small shop, and seeing those children…"
"Then I shouldn't keep hiding things. Come with me."
Yichen stood and walked to a wall in the back that looked entirely ordinary.
He pressed a finger along a subtle, nearly invisible groove.
The wall slid open without a sound, revealing a downward passage lit by soft white light.
Jing Yuan's brow lifted. He followed.
The staircase spiraled down. After only a short descent, the space opened up—
And even Jing Yuan, who had seen countless oddities, paused in genuine surprise.
This wasn't a basement.
It was a massive underground laboratory—its level of technology far beyond anything on Luofu.
The ceiling was high, a simulated starfield stretched across it. Soft, brilliant illumination came from everywhere and nowhere.
Transparent operation screens lined the walls, streams of complex data flickering across them. Precision instruments stood in rows—devices Jing Yuan had never even seen before.
In the center, several cultivation pods stood quietly. Inside floated tissue-like structures—part plant-root, part unfinished organ.
On a workbench lay a mask—half laughing, half crying.
The air carried a faint freshness, like a forest after rain—not the smell of metal and oil.
Yichen saw the shock on Jing Yuan's face and smiled helplessly.
"To be honest, I got tired of traveling the stars. This place has lovely scenery, so I decided to stay for a while… and do some small experiments I happen to enjoy, to pass the time."
He spread his hands, expression complicated.
"I meant to live quietly. But fate had other plans—I met Xiaoyu, and accepted a commission from those children. Now that the General is here, willing to support me… if I keep concealing things, it would feel dishonest."
Jing Yuan recovered, eyes sweeping across the staggering lab. Thoughts raced.
To construct something like this under Changle Tian—without the Seat of Divine Foresight noticing—this man's methods were unfathomable.
Fortunately, he seemed well-intentioned.
If he had ill intent…
Jing Yuan felt a faint chill at the thought, but his face remained calm.
His gaze returned to Yichen. The relaxed laziness in his eyes had sharpened into clear depth.
"You never fail to surprise, Mr. Yichen. Then the method to treat Xiaoyu's eyes… lies here?"
"It does."
Yichen led him toward the center.
"What I do is not replacement. It is awakening—and guidance."
He stopped at a highly complex console. Streams of symbols and data links flowed across the screen—things Jing Yuan couldn't begin to interpret.
With a casual motion, Yichen pulled up a luminous 3D schematic. At its core, something like a double-helix structure flickered—yet the complexity and precision far surpassed any biological model Jing Yuan had ever known.
"General, to be frank," Yichen said, "while traveling the stars, I studied many intelligent lifeforms. That includes—given your shared origin—what I'll call the 'baseline primate genetic template.'"
He indicated the schematic.
"Xianzhou people gained longevity through the power of Abundance. Your physiques are special—true.
"But at the deepest level, patterns still exist. The underlying encoding remains traceable."
He paused and looked at Jing Yuan.
"If you have doubts, we can do a simple biometric sampling test here.
"Compare the baseline template with Xianzhou genetic expression—specifically the regulatory layers tied to visual pathways, and the locked regions. You'll see my approach isn't empty speculation."
Then Yichen began explaining his theory—only for the terms coming out of his mouth to steadily push even the well-traveled general into a fog of confusion.
"Put simply, Xiaoyu's condition isn't organ damage. It originates from dormancy or misexpression at key genetic regulatory nodes.
"My method is not to implant machinery, but to awaken the dormant—or incorrectly expressed—visual gene clusters, and guide the cells to differentiate correctly and rebuild function… (ten thousand words omitted)"
Jing Yuan: "…"
What is this man even saying?
The words, taken individually, sounded almost understandable. Put together, they became pure incomprehensible scripture.
For the first time in his life, Jing Yuan felt a crisp, undeniable helplessness in the realm of intellect.
This wasn't beyond medicine.
It was beyond his entire conceptual framework of technology.
Seeing Jing Yuan's near-stunned expression, Yichen finally stopped. A little embarrassed, he rubbed his nose.
"Uh… General? Did I… explain it too briefly?"
Jing Yuan exhaled, rubbed his aching brow, and laughed bitterly.
"Mr. Yichen… please just tell me whether it is safe, and… what the success rate is. As for the principles…"
He waved a hand, completely candid.
"Forgive me. I truly… feel as if I'm listening to heavenly scripture."
Yichen nodded.
"Anyway, General, this really isn't a complicated technique."
He looked thoughtful.
"My thinking is: since the General and the Seat of Divine Foresight are supporting this, resources and coordination will be far easier. So why not do it more thoroughly?"
"Perhaps… we could include all those on the Xianzhou Luofu who are similar to Xiaoyu—anyone who has sensory or limb defects, whether congenital or acquired—and bring them all into the treatment scope."
Jing Yuan's pupils tightened.
Treating one person was already a miracle.
This man was speaking—casually, as if discussing trimming flowers—about curing every disabled person on Luofu.
By ordinary logic, it was impossible.
So why did he say it as though it were merely a matter of convenience?
Yichen stood there looking plain, clean, and gentle—almost too ordinary.
But beneath the marketplace sat a laboratory beyond specification. In his hands was technology beyond comprehension. And in his mouth was a proposal that overturned common sense.
The clues snapped into a single line in Jing Yuan's mind, pointing to an answer that felt absurd—yet also the only one that fit.
He inhaled slowly, forcing down the storm in his chest.
"Mr. Yichen… forgive my bluntness. Are you… from that… Society?"
Yichen showed no surprise, as if he'd expected the question. He nodded lightly.
"Yes."
He even smiled sheepishly, adding: