Lin Mu looked around, inspecting the aura of the entire realm.
It was stable. Balanced. Strong.
Just as he was.
He summoned his sword, Afternoon Pine, within the Sleepscape and watched it appear instantly, the blade shimring softly with a will of its own. Ocean Raker followed, the deep blue hue pulsing like waves in rhythm with his breath.
He walked through the shifting mists of the Sleepscape, visiting the quiet corners he hadn’t tread in months. Patches of mory, dreams of battles long past, and the echoes of ancient chants drifted in the background.
He closed his eyes briefly, standing beneath the spectral form of the Sacred Tree at the center of the Sleepscape.
"If this truly is the final test... then let it co."
His voice echoed softly, carried by the dream-winds.
When he opened his eyes again, the stars above the Sleepscape shimred brightly in response—subtle, but affirming.
He continued walking in the tranquil realm of the Sleepscape before coming to a stop.
Lin Mu stood before a patch of unassuming soil nestled between the canopies of his ever-growing immortal trees.
It was a place he rarely visited, despite the mysterious treasure that lay buried here—a single seed. A seed gifted to him by none other than Crown Princess Shang herself.
From the mont he received it, Lin Mu had known it was special. A weighty silence had accompanied it, as if it carried a secret too deep for words. He had planted it here, in this realm of peace and respite, yet for all the days and years that had passed since then, not a single sign of growth had erged.
Not a sprout. Not a root. Not a shimr of qi. Just... silence.
But now, everything had changed.
His mind turned back to the Healing Heart Sutra—a technique he had honed under the silent skies of the Silent Lotus Temple. A chant not just of healing, but of harmony. Of restoration. He had witnessed its effects on wounds and living beings, but also on nature—how plants blood in its presence, how vitality surged in even barren soil when he channeled its power.
Until now, he had held back from using it on the seed. He hadn’t been sure whether the sutra’s power—so potent, so absolute—might overwhelm it. Might force it into premature growth or, worse, destabilize it altogether. But after having refined his control through the recent healing of High Elder Yan Dao, Lin Mu now trusted himself.
His will was firm. His control absolute.
And so, he walked across the soft, warm soil of the Sleepscape to the place where the mysterious seed lay hidden.
The area was serene. No grass, no weeds—only a single mound of clean earth, where not even the wind stirred. It was as though the Sleepscape itself acknowledged the significance of what lay beneath.
Lin Mu sat cross-legged before it and placed both palms on the ground.
He began to chant.
"Embrace the Heart of Nature and bask in its benevolence. Cleanse your heart and purify all that taints the worlds."
The Healing Heart Sutra was not loud. It was not flamboyant. It carried no thunder nor blinding light. But as the verses flowed from Lin Mu’s lips, a gentle glow began to surround him—soft, erald-gold, like spring sunlight peeking through ancient trees.
From his palms, a delicate stream of this light flowed down into the soil. It was not qi in the normal sense—it was life essence, the pure breath of creation carried within the sutra.
At first, nothing happened.
A minute passed. Then five. Then ten.
And yet Lin Mu could sense it.
The seed was awakening.
It drank greedily—not violently, but with depth. Like a dry forest absorbing the rains of spring after centuries of drought. Lin Mu furrowed his brow slightly as he realized the extent of the absorption. Ten percent of his immortal qi reserves vanished in minutes. Then twenty.
Still no surface change.
Thirty percent. Forty. He stopped chanting for a brief mont, checked himself. His control was firm. The stream of energy was stable. The sutra was working as intended.
But the seed was... insatiable.
’What kind of seed is this?’ he wondered, eyes narrowing.
At seventy percent, sweat glistened at his brow. His qi was depleting rapidly now, but the aura around the patch of soil had shifted. It pulsed faintly. The very air shimred, as if reality were struggling to contain sothing beyond itself.
Then, at long last, it happened.
The ground trembled.
A faint crack split the soil.
And from it rose a tiny green sprout—barely the height of a bean shoot. It swayed gently in the dreamwind, its form simple and without ornant. No leaves. No veins. Just a tender stem that seed no different from any ordinary plant... except for one thing.
At its tip, nestled like a dew drop cradled by dawn, was a small, tightly closed bulb.
It wasn’t a flower, not yet. But Lin Mu could feel sothing within it. A weight. A presence.
The mont it erged, the Sleepscape shifted subtly.
The ambient energy grew clearer, the qi rich wind hushed, and his immortal trees—even they—seed to lean ever so slightly in its direction. As though acknowledging sothing... greater.
Lin Mu’s breath caught for a mont.
The sprout gave off no qi, no Sword Intent, no dao fluctuations. And yet, the space around it was sohow more alive. As though sothing ancient had opened its eye for the first ti in eons.
Carefully, reverently, Lin Mu leaned forward. He extended a finger toward the sprout but did not touch it. He simply observed.
Even now, it continued to absorb the last remnants of the Healing Heart Sutra’s light, its tiny stem vibrating faintly with unseen resonance. It was as if it wasn’t just growing—but rembering. Drawing sothing from the Sutra beyond vitality... perhaps insight? Connection?
He sat there for a long ti, simply watching.
"I don’t know what you are..." he murmured under his breath, "...but you’re not ordinary. That much is certain."
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