"What's going on?" Zhao Mumu asked as she glanced at her phone, then walked over to her master's workshop.
On the video screen, Song Miaozhu saw it clearly—Grandpa Zhao was surrounded by the same soft, multicolored spiritual glow that she herself had seen on her own reflection.
The old man looked up when he noticed his disciple filming. "What are you doing? Didn't we agree you wouldn't leave the studio today until your wood carving was finished?"
With that upward glance, Song Miaozhu got an even clearer look.
His eyes, too, held a faint spiritual glow—though much fainter than the brilliance she'd seen in her own. Just like her, there was a coin-sized spot at the center of his forehead where the glow didn't reach.
"Miaozhu? What's wrong?" Zhao Mumu turned the camera around to show her own face.
Song Miaozhu snapped out of her thoughts. "I can see spiritual auras around people… Sister Mumu, your neck hasn't been bothering you lately, has it?"
As she spoke, her gaze landed on Zhao Mumu's neck and shoulders in the video—there, she detected a faint gray mist, similar to what she had seen on Master He and Master Wu, though much lighter.
This energy felt entirely different from the yin energy of ghosts. While living people could be tainted by yin energy, their bodies didn't naturally emit it. Instead, this gray mist resembled the "illness aura" described in ancient texts—an energy with the same root as death energy, but borne from physical ailment.
"Huh? How'd you know my neck's been acting up again?" Zhao Mumu knocked lightly on her nape. "I've been hunched over my woodwork too much lately…"
"Then that makes sense. That gray aura must be illness," Song Miaozhu said, then added:
"Spiritual energy integrates in phases—first the hands, arms, and chest; then the waist, back, and legs; and finally the head and eyes. Before that, though, the energy purges illness. That must be why Master He's condition improved so quickly.
As for Grandpa Zhao, like me, he's currently at the stage where the energy is reaching the eyes—what they call Opening the Heavenly Eye."
"What's that?" Zhao Mumu asked. "Where am I in all of this?"
"Hmm… the 'attraction' phase. I forgot to mention—before spiritual energy merges with the body, there's a stage where it gathers around you. First, it lingers nearby, then seeps into your crafts, and finally merges with your body."
She added, "Sister Mumu, if you keep working at it, and let the spiritual energy purge your illness, your neck problems should go away."
That was far too tempting for someone as young as Zhao Mumu to already be suffering from neck pain. She quickly shoved the phone into her master's hands. "Master, you talk to her. I'm going back to carving!"
The old man shook his head. "I keep telling you to take care of yourself. Look at you, and then look at this old man—you're falling apart faster than I am."
Song Miaozhu smiled. "Your body really is well-maintained, Grandpa Zhao. I noticed Master Hezhen, though younger than you, still has lingering illness around her. Even with her exceptional embroidery talent drawing in energy, she's only managed to clear the worst of it—from around her pancreas. There are still faint traces elsewhere."
The old man beamed proudly. "The body is the foundation! The younger ones in our family all ran off abroad. Can't rely on distant help when you need it most. If I don't take care of myself, who will?
Huaisui'er, you'd best not follow in Mumu's footsteps! That girl's as stubborn as an ox. Once she starts something, she won't stop until it's done—and now look, neck issues at her age!"
He added with a chuckle, "Sounds like that illness aura even holds back cultivation, huh?"
"I'll be careful," Song Miaozhu said. "Grandpa Zhao, have your eyes felt different lately?"
"Not really," he replied. "Haven't seen any of those 'spiritual light dots' you mentioned. Not sure if ghosts are clearer now—hard to test, since the woodcarving workshop's ghost-free. Though that wooden doll Zhu Dagui once possessed? I see a gray haze around it. Is that yin energy?"
"Can you show me?" Song Miaozhu asked.
The old man fetched the doll, and she confirmed:
"Yes, that's yin energy. It's gray like illness, but the difference is illness only appears on the living. Objects can't have it. So yes, Grandpa Zhao, you can probably see ghosts more clearly now."
Although his skill had drawn in quite a bit of spiritual energy, the old man's aged body integrated it more slowly. Compared to her, he needed a much greater volume to reach the same stage.
After hanging up, Song Miaozhu resumed working on her golden lotus paper offering. This one had twelve petals—marking it as a first-grade bloom. Spiritual energy particles gathered around her, and a few began to break through the invisible layer between the two worlds. Two merged into the lotus itself, while two more flew toward her.
Miaozhu was fully prepared for the integration to reach her eyes—yet instead, the particles veered upward. Suddenly, she felt warmth between her brows. Though her eyes remained open, she perceived a dark, formless space within her mind briefly illuminate—just for an instant, too fleeting to make out any details.
But when cultivating, every change in the body was worth noting.
She folded the lotus carefully and placed it into a bamboo basket, then picked up the mirror lying nearby and inspected the space between her brows. There it was—a faint, barely visible gleam of spiritual light. Was the next stage after spiritual energy entering the eyes… it entering the space between the brows?
What was that fleeting void she had glimpsed?
It reminded her of the "inner vision" described in ancient cultivation texts—where adepts could peer into their dantian (energy center below the navel) after absorbing qi. Yet what she had seen seemed centered in her forehead.
Uncertain, she continued crafting paper offerings, observing for further changes.
With each creation, the void in her brow grew brighter and clearer.
Within three days, that fleeting void she had glimpsed during energy integration became accessible at will, triggered by a single thought.
It was a borderless space of pale, milky-white mist, suspended at the center of her brow. And floating within it, a multicolored, shimmering gateway—its details still obscured. The moment the space stabilized, her mind grew uncloudedly sharp. Her hands moved as if guided by divine intuition, and she easily completed a second-grade golden lotus.
As the lotus formed, the spiritual particles surrounding her pierced the veil completely and entered the physical world—streaming into the space behind her brow. There, they condensed into a bead-sized crimson cluster of qi.
The qi was strangely shaped—perfectly square.
With each influx, the square deepened in hue, its edges solidifying—as though on the verge of manifesting into reality.