A glacial stillness clung to Wang Lin as he traversed the space of several dozen paces in a heartbeat. He stood before the shimmering, ethereal bubble that imprisoned a maiden in pink silks and a village woman, unconscious and fair. His gaze was a winter wind upon them.

The pink-clad maiden’s eyes sparked with apprehension. A snowflake sigil, etched upon her brow, pulsed with faint light. A tremor of fear rippled through her. Within this silent, eerie domain of molten rock, she possessed no means to hinder the intruder’s actions. Her sole defense lay in the snowflake, a protective charm bestowed upon her by her Eldest Sister.

“Art thou a Saintess of the Kun Xu?” Wang Lin’s thought, calm yet resonant, echoed forth. It mingled with the very magma, rippling outwards and causing the bubble around the maiden to writhe as if on the verge of shattering.

The maiden’s face paled. She bit her lip and shook her head, “I am not the Saintess. My Eldest Sister bears that title.”

“And she,” Wang Lin gestured toward the unconscious villager, “what is her relation to thee?”

“She is an elder of the Kun Xu…” The maiden dared not refuse his query. If Wang Lin were to pierce the bubble, her own enchanted defenses might withstand the magma. But the village woman, already burdened by the venomous heat, would be consumed, her essence obliterated.

“The Void Wanderer may have crossed paths with thee, but we have offered no offense… You…” The maiden’s words died in her throat. Her eyes widened, and she recoiled. The snowflake on her brow flared into being, a shimmering shield before her.

In the blink of an eye, Wang Lin had passed through the bubble’s membrane, standing face to face with her.

“Lower thy defenses,” he commanded. Wang Lin knelt, his gaze drawn to the unconscious village woman. An odd light flickered in his eyes. He held no regard for the pink-clad maiden, her snowflake trinket insignificant in his sight.

“What dost thou intend?” The maiden’s heart hammered against her ribs. She saw Wang Lin’s hand rise and rest upon the brow of the village woman and cried out in a desperate attempt to stop him.

But without turning, Wang Lin casually flicked his left hand behind him.

“Silence!”

The Binding Spell took hold. The maiden froze, yet the snowflake blossomed into a myriad of shimmering shards that swirled around her, forming an impenetrable barrier.

Ignoring the maiden, Wang Lin focused his attention on the village woman. With his right forefinger pressed against her brow, he seized the opportunity afforded by her weakened state, her mind clouded by the venom. His spiritual sense surged through his finger, invading her mind and sweeping across her consciousness.

Memories flooded Wang Lin’s mind, a tapestry of the village woman’s life. Though her cultivation surpassed his, the circumstances favored him. He peered into her memories with his spiritual sense. Her fate was of no consequence to him; he sought only her recollections!

Any memory linked to the Kun Xu was his prize. He sought to understand the Kun Xu, driven by a vision that had pierced his heart when his cultivation reached its apex, filling the starry sky with the image of one who brought him agonizing pain.

As he sifted through the woman’s memories, Wang Lin gleaned fragments of knowledge regarding the Kun Xu, his expression growing increasingly grave. But these were not the truths he sought. As he delved deeper, the village woman trembled, her eyelashes fluttering. A crimson tide, strangely beautiful, flushed her mature features.

Wang Lin’s soul-searching had agitated the venom within her, threatening to erupt. The pink-clad maiden, paralyzed, watched with mounting horror, her eyes burning with hatred. But her cultivation was insufficient to resist Wang Lin’s binding.

Then, as Wang Lin scoured the depths of her mind, he recoiled. Within the woman’s memories, he beheld a figure of serene pride.

It was she, the one he had seen within the Kun Xu!

“Saintess Mu Bing Mei of the Kun Xu!” A tempest of emotions raged across Wang Lin’s face. He withdrew his right hand from the woman’s mind.

The village woman held the Saintess in profound reverence, yet her knowledge was limited. She knew only that the Saintess cultivated a most peculiar art, practiced by every Saintess throughout the ages. When perfected, it was said to grant the wielder unparalleled power within the Kun Xu.

Alas, the art was notoriously difficult. None had succeeded since the first Saintess. Mu Bing Mei, the seventh of her line, alone seemed to have made some progress.

“Liu Mei… Mu Bing Mei…” A searing pain tore through Wang Lin’s heart. Within the Celestial Jewel, he sensed a stirring within Wang Ping, a faint awakening stirred by his own emotional turmoil.

The thought of Wang Ping was a dagger twisting in his heart. Wang Ping had carried one wish throughout his life, a wish he had voiced only once. When unanswered, he never spoke of it again, carrying it with him to his final breath.

He yearned, with all his being, to see his mother once more…

Rising to his feet, Wang Lin turned to face the pink-clad maiden. He knew from the village woman’s memories that this girl was Liu Mei’s junior sister, training in the same esoteric art. And she was not a mere elder of the Kun Xu, but one who had watched Liu Mei grow, eventually becoming her junior sister.

A chill settled in Wang Lin’s eyes. He spoke with an evenness that belied the storm within, “Without my aid, she will perish within the hour.”

The village woman was now suffused with a macabre flush. Sweat poured from her, evaporating into wisps of white vapor.

If left unchecked, she would soon become a desiccated husk, her very spirit extinguished. Even had Wang Lin not delved into her memories, her demise was inevitable, though delayed.

“If thou dost agree, we may strike a bargain. I shall heal her and escort thee both into the Grand Hall, to the Eighth Level. In exchange, thou shalt permit me to plumb thy memories!” Wang Lin offered her a choice. If she agreed, so be it. If not, he would take what he needed.

The maiden laughed bitterly. She saw the resolve in Wang Lin’s eyes. Clearly, he sought something specific within her memories.

Something related to her Eldest Sister.

Resistance was futile.

She nodded, signaling her surrender. She closed her eyes and stilled herself.

Wang Lin did not show an ounce of pity. This was merely an exchange. His right hand flashed out, landing upon the maiden’s brow. His spiritual sense swept over her, beginning the search.

The maiden trembled, but she held firm. The search would inflict harm, yet Wang Lin was no mindless brute. He would not break her mind if she did not resist. The outcome rested upon her surrender.

As he searched, Wang Lin came to understand more of Mu Bing Mei. After a long while, he withdrew his hand, his expression laced with deeper complexity.

“The Way of the Celestial Soul… a semblance of the Heavenly Dao possessing a soul. The Path of the Celestial Soul fragments the self into countless incarnations, which each undergo countless trials and master countless arts to obtain myriad experiences that will retain a central heart. Finally, the incarnations unite, bringing the Celestial Soul to completion…”

The Way of the Celestial Soul was a supreme art of the Kun Xu, originating from the peak known as the “Doubting Peak,” mastered only by the first Saintess. Every Saintess that followed had failed, lost in the myriad of incarnations and self, never to return.

Mu Bing Mei, the seventh Saintess, had forged a new path, one of cold detachment. Instead of preserving the heart of each split incarnation, she allowed them to lead independent lives, developing new personalities, oblivious to their origin. Only when certain conditions were met would their memories be unlocked and merged with the true self.

The Heavenly Dao was emotionless, and so too must be the incarnations! Unlike those who came before her, Mu Bing Mei had chosen to split her soul into not countless numbers, but into a mere nine. She had painstakingly chosen the locations for these incarnations, and after a millennia, eight had succeeded, awakening after retaining their virginity.

But the ninth incarnation, dwelling on the planet Suzaku, had encountered an anomaly! The maiden did not know the details. She only knew that this ninth incarnation, named Liu Mei, had plunged her Eldest Sister into a conflict.

With the search complete, Wang Lin’s gaze swept over the maiden. She was as lovely as a fairy, yet her fate, like that of all others he had met, was beyond his control.

He gathered the maiden and the unconscious village woman and left.