The obvious solution would be to inscribe red sun runes directly onto Mo Yuhang's body. A few well-placed combat runes could give us a serious edge in the upcoming battle, especially since Guo Xinyi wouldn't be expecting anything like that from a musical cultivation realm.
But that plan had a fatal flaw.
I'd already seen how red sun energy affected harmonic essence; it sent the musical energy fleeing like prey animals from a predator. If I inscribed runes on our body, the harmonic essence would refuse to go anywhere near us, and Mo Yuhang wouldn't be able to use any of his techniques, which would effectively cripple half of our fighting capability.
Not to ntion the energy limitations.
The red sun power had to travel through my spiritual link from the main tournant arena, which ant I'd barely have enough juice to sustain the runes for more than a few techniques anyway. It would be like bringing a single-shot pistol to a gunfight.
Azure and I went back and forth trying to figure out a way I could potentially disrupt Guo Xinyi's techniques at crucial monts without disrupting Mo Yuhang's abilities at the sa ti.
Maybe I could use the red energy defensively, creating a barrier that would protect us from her attacks? But that would also prevent Mo Yuhang from launching any offensive techniques of his own.
Perhaps I could ti the release to coincide with monts when Mo Yuhang wasn't actively using harmonic essence? But in a real battle, he'd need to be channeling energy almost constantly.
Every potential solution we ca up with had the sa fundantal problem: the red sun energy's indiscriminate effect on harmonic essence. There was no way to make it selectively target only Guo Xinyi's techniques while leaving Mo Yuhang's abilities untouched.
But then, as I watched Mo Yuhang complete the final flourish on the Titan Fist Harmony scroll, sothing clicked in my mind. A different approach, one that had been staring in the face the entire ti.
A smile spread across our face.
"Master?" Azure asked, clearly picking up on my shift in mood. "Did you figure sothing out?"
"It seems like we won't be able to create red sun techniques to manipulate harmonic essence," I said, still grinning as the plan solidified in my thoughts. "But you know what? It no longer matters."
"What do you an?"
"Because I know of a way to use the red sun energy to end the battle," I said, feeling genuinely excited. "And it doesn't require any fancy rune work or complex harmonic manipulation."
Azure was quiet for a mont, processing my words. "What way?"
I chuckled, enjoying the mont of dramatic tension. "The world will find out soon enough."
The truth was, I'd been overthinking the red sun energy applications. Trying to weaponize it through traditional cultivation thods when its most dangerous aspect was sothing much more fundantal. I didn't need to manipulate harmonic essence with red sun energy; I just needed to use it at exactly the right mont in exactly the right way.
Mo Yuhang looked up from the completed scrolls, flexing his fingers to work out the cramping. "Divine one, all three musical scores are finished. Every note, every harmonic marking, every dynamic indicator is precisely as you instructed."
"Excellent work," I said, feeling his consciousness already starting to fade around the edges. The intensive scribing had taken more out of him than I'd realized.
"I... I think I need to rest for a mont," Mo Yuhang mumbled, his presence growing distant and fuzzy. "The fine detail work... it's more draining than I expected..."
Within monts, I felt his consciousness settle into the deep, dreamless sleep of true exhaustion. His presence didn't disappear entirely, but it withdrew so far into the background that I might as well have been alone in the body.
I carefully gathered the three scrolls and slipped them into the storage ring that Ling Shuyi had brought with the food.
Standing up from the desk, I stretched our body and looked around the Harmony Sanctum. After all the intensive cultivation and technique preparation, I felt restless. My mind was buzzing with plans and contingencies, but there was nothing more I could productively do right now except take a little break to clear my head.
The sanctum doors opened with their familiar bell-like chi, and Ling Shuyi imdiately rose from her position on the bench.
"Divine one," she said, offering her customary respectful bow. "How may this humble servant assist you?"
"Just a quick question," I said, not wanting to trouble the girl, she looked like she hadn't slept much. "How long have I been in closed-door cultivation this ti?"
"Two days, divine one," she replied without hesitation. "You re-entered the sanctum two days ago in the late afternoon."
I blinked slowly as I digested the information. What had felt like a few hours had actually ended up being two whole days? Ti really did have a way of disappearing when you were deep in cultivation work.
I thanked her and stepped into the corridor, then made my way toward the exit of the palace complex. A total of five days of intensive preparation ant I only had...
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Looking up at the sky, I saw the glowing number that had appeared after Elder Wan's announcent: a massive "2" floating among the musical notes that danced perpetually overhead.
Two days until my battle with Guo Xinyi.
The sight sent a flutter of anticipation through my chest. All the preparation, all the theoretical planning, all the new techniques and trump cards, soon I'd find out if any of it was enough to overco the massive disadvantages I'd be facing.
But dwelling on that wouldn't help anyone. For now, I just wanted to experience this fascinating world a bit more before having to fight for Mo Yuhang’s life in it.
I wandered through the city streets with no particular destination in mind, just taking in the sights and sounds of daily life in a realm where music was woven into every aspect of existence. Street vendors sang their wares into better condition, construction workers humd foundations into perfect alignnt, and even ordinary conversations seed to follow subtle rhythmic patterns.
It was in one of the residential districts, where modest houses lined tree-shaded streets, that I heard the sound of children playing.
The laughter drew toward a small neighborhood park where a group of kids, maybe seven to ten years old, were engaged in the sa ga I noticed last ti - singing flowers into different colors.
One boy would hum a low, earthy tune, and the flower petals would shift to brown.
A girl would respond with a high, bright lody, turning them yellow like tiny suns.
They stopped mid-ga when they noticed approaching, suddenly going very still in that way children do when they realize an adult is watching them. The divine robes and the faint spiritual pressure I couldn't completely suppress probably made seem even more intimidating than usual.
"Please, don't stop on my account," I said, settling down on a nearby bench to watch. "That looked like a fascinating ga."
The children exchanged glances, clearly uncertain how to respond to a supposed divine being showing interest in their play. The oldest, a girl with pigtails who couldn't have been more than ten, finally worked up the courage to speak.
"Um... we didn't an to be loud," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"You weren't being loud at all," I assured her. "I was just curious about how your flower ga works. I've never seen anything like it."
That seed to break the ice slightly. Children, I'd learned, were generally more adaptable than adults when it ca to unusual situations. After a few more monts of shy whispering among themselves, they began to warm up to my presence.
"It's Color Weaving!" blurted out a boy with dirt-stained knees, his initial fear giving way to excitent. "You sing to the flowers and make 'em happy colors!"
"Yeah!" chid in another girl, this one with flowers braided into her hair. "Like... if you want yellow flowers, you sing happy songs! And if you want blue ones, you sing sleepy songs!"
I nodded seriously, as if this was advanced cultivation theory rather than a children's ga. "That sounds very clever. Would you mind showing again?"
The request seed to flip a switch in their deanor. Suddenly, I wasn't a scary divine being anymore; I was an audience for their skills. They eagerly gathered around a flower bed filled with white blossoms, each child taking turns to demonstrate their technique.
"Watch! Watch!" called out the boy with dirty knees, bouncing on his toes. "I'm going to make it green like grass!" He took a deep breath and began humming a lody that reminded of springti. The white petals slowly shifted to a vibrant green.
"My turn! My turn!" declared the girl with braided flowers, pushing forward. "I can do blue!" Her song was completely different - light and breathy, like wind chis. Under her influence, another flower's petals beca pale blue.
"Ooh, do the sparkly one!" shouted a smaller boy who'd been hanging back.
"I can't do sparkly yet," the pigtailed girl said with a pout. "Mama says I need to practice more."
"That's okay," said another child consolingly. "Sparkly is really hard. My big sister can only do it sotis."
One by one, they showed off their abilities, each trying to outdo the others while also cheering enthusiastically for their friends' attempts. It was remarkable to watch, not just because of the magical transformation, but because of how naturally they understood the connection between music and living things.
"Can you do colors too?" asked the pigtailed girl suddenly, looking at with wide eyes. "We want to see what god colors look like!"
The request caught off guard. I'd been content to observe, but they were looking at with such eager expectation that it would have been cruel to disappoint them.
"I should warn you," I said, kneeling down beside one of the white flowers, "I'm not very good at singing."
That admission seed to surprise them. Apparently, gods were expected to be naturally talented at everything.
"That's okay!" the girl with braided flowers said quickly. "Flowers don't care if you're good. They just like it when you try!"
"Yeah!" added the dirt-kneed boy. "Even my baby brother can make flowers wiggle, and he can't even talk right!"
What I felt was a mixture of nervousness about the upcoming battle, appreciation for this mont of peace, and genuine fondness for these enthusiastic children. I tried to capture those emotions in a simple humming lody, nothing fancy, just the sort of tune soone might unconsciously hum while working.
To my amazent, the flower responded.
The white petals didn't shift to a single color like the children's flowers had. Instead, they took on a subtle iridescent quality, as if soone had brushed them with oil that reflected light in rainbow patterns.
The effect was beautiful but definitely unusual.
The children gasped and started talking all at once.
"Whoa! It's like... like..."
"It's ALL the colors!"
"How'd you do that?!"
"Can you teach ? Can you? Can you?"
"That's the prettiest flower ever!"
I honestly had no idea how I'd managed it. My guess was that the flower had responded to the complex mix of energies I carried - qi, red sun energy, blue sun energy, and who knows what else all blending together in ways that this realm's harmonic essence had never encountered before.
"Sotis," I said diplomatically, "different voices make different colors. That's part of what makes music so interesting."
The children accepted this explanation with the easy adaptability of youth. Soon, they were back to their gas, occasionally asking to help when they wanted to create particularly elaborate patterns.
"Look! Look!" shouted the smallest boy, tugging on my robes. "If you do the rainbow and I do yellow, we can make sunshine flowers!"
I found myself genuinely enjoying the experience. There was sothing refreshing about spending ti with people who had no agenda, no hidden motives, no complex political calculations. They just wanted to play gas and show off their abilities to soone who seed impressed by them.
"Are you really gonna fight the other god?" asked the pigtailed girl during a brief pause in the gas, her voice dropping to a whisper.
I nodded, wondering how much they understood about the upcoming battle.
"Are you scared?" asked the dirt-kneed boy with the blunt directness that only children could manage.
The question made pause. Was I scared? I'd been so focused on preparation and strategy that I hadn't really stopped to examine my emotional state.
"A little," I admitted, afraid more for Mo Yuhang than myself. "Fighting is always scary, even for... well, even for ."
"My mama says being scared is okay," offered the girl with braided flowers. "She says brave people get scared too, but they do stuff anyway."
"That's very wise," I said, aning it.
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