Seven days passed like a dream, with mountains and waters as companions.


    After Nuwa''s departure, LaUhta dared not stray a single step from the streamside. The water flowed clear to its depths, sunlight penetrating the surface to cast dappled shadows upon the smooth stones below. Wind rustled through the forest leaves with a gentle whisper, like the murmuring voice of nature itself. Not knowing when Nuwa might return, and fearing to miss her vital teachings, he resolved to practice in place, patiently awaiting his mentor''s return.


    He paced along the edge of the stream, his gaze falling sometimes upon the glittering water, sometimes lifting toward the distant mountains. His footsteps formed a perfect circle, treading repeatedly over the same ground until the grass beneath lay flat and submissive. Each step was accompanied by conscious regulation of his breathing—drawing the Ethereal Origin into his body with each deep inhalation, deliberately slowing its flow with each careful exhalation, savoring this wondrous sensation like one might savor fine tea. The gentle babble of water, the whisper of wind through the treetops, the rhythm of breath and footsteps—these wove together into a simple, harmonious cadence.


    As dusk fell on the first day, the horizon was painted with fiery orange, and mountains stood like ink silhouettes against the twilight sky. LaUhta was surprised to find himself without the slightest hint of weariness, his mind even clearer than at dawn. His body had become like an ever-turning waterwheel, ceaselessly transforming the Ethereal Origin into the "One," while he remained at the center like an axle, observing this eternal cycle with both wonder and reverence.


    By the third day, dew hung like pearls upon grass tips, dampening his white robe. Droplets slid down the hem of his garment, yet failed to penetrate his concentration. Distant mountains appeared and disappeared in the morning mist, dreamlike as a watercolor painting. Birds came to forage, occasionally perching on nearby branches, tilting their heads curiously at this sleepless, restless human, offering chirping calls as if questioning his unwavering persistence. LaUhta smiled inwardly but maintained his steady pace, his spine straight as a pine tree, his face showing neither fatigue nor hunger.


    On the fifth day, heavy clouds rolled in from distant peaks, obscuring the sun. A sudden rain assaulted the forest, raindrops beating against leaves with a rapid patter, droplets striking his hair and shoulders, sliding down his cheeks like tears. LaUhta remained oblivious to the changing weather. Rain soaked him thoroughly, his white robe clinging to his body, outlining his tall figure, yet he continued his seemingly endless circular movement. The rain washed away his earlier footprints, softening the earth, but could not diminish his dedication to practice—indeed, it only strengthened his resolve.


    At dawn of the seventh day, morning light filtered through the clouds like fine silk, bathing the silent glade in gold. The stream sparkled in the early light like flowing golden thread. Distant mountains gradually emerged from thin mist, like awakening giants. LaUhta continued walking his circle by the stream, his white robe damp with dew, gleaming softly in the morning light. Throughout these seven days, he had neither eaten nor slept, yet felt filled with a strange vitality, as if some mysterious energy sustained his life functions, making even breathing feel exceptionally light and comfortable.


    As the sunset painted the sky crimson, clouds layered like waves, adorning the heavens with splendid colors. LaUhta was completing his final circuit when he sensed a familiar presence approaching, like a gentle breeze against his face, bringing comfort to his heart. He immediately halted, turning his gaze toward the path. He saw Nuwa''s red dress, particularly vivid against the twilight, like a flower blooming in darkness. She approached with graceful steps, her long hair floating in the breeze, her face bearing a mysterious smile, her amber eyes gleaming in the fading sunlight.


    "Hast thou progressed in these seven days?" she asked, her voice clear as spring water. Nuwa offered no explanation of where she had been, and LaUhta did not presume to inquire, merely inclining his head respectfully.


    Nuwa found a flat rock by the stream and sat down, her legs naturally crossed, her red dress spreading across the stone surface like a blossoming flower, contrasting with her spring-green fingers and fair skin. She gestured that LaUhta could begin preparing grilled fish, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, the two beauty marks beneath her eyes appearing particularly lively as her expression changed.


    "After seven days of journeying, today I shall reward thee with grilled fish," Nuwa said cheerfully, mirth dancing in her eyes. The stream flowed beside her, occasionally raising tiny splashes, like the joy in her words.


    LaUhta nodded and turned toward the stream. He crouched down, eyes fixed intently on the water, focused as a hunter. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the streambed, as fish darted through patches of light and shadow. He held his breath, his arm suddenly plunging into the water like a loosed arrow, seizing a plump fish in one swift motion. Water splashed as the fish struggled violently in his grasp, its scales flashing silver in the sunlight, yet unable to escape his iron grip.


    With practiced movements, he prepared the fish on a flat stone, his technique fluid and graceful. Fresh blood ran through stone crevices into the stream, quickly diluted and washed away. From his waist, he took a small, finely crafted pouch, removing fine salt and wild herbs he had gathered, gently stuffing them into the fish cavity, ensuring even distribution of seasonings. Finding two bamboo tubes, he secured the fish between them, preventing the flesh from falling apart while preserving its moisture. He gathered dry bamboo twigs, arranged them neatly in a clearing, and produced fire stones from his person, quickly kindling a flame. Under his careful attention, the fire grew steadily, flames licking at the bamboo tubes, which emitted slight crackling sounds and released a distinctive fragrance that mingled with the aroma of fish in the air.


    They sat upon the ground, the fire dancing between them, light flickering across their faces—one bright and animated, one still and composed. Nuwa''s gaze no longer focused on the grilling fish but penetrated beyond appearances to observe the energy flowing within LaUhta, her expression attentive and profound, as if perceiving the essential nature of all things.


    The fish turned golden and crisp under the flame''s caress, its aroma spreading irresistibly. LaUhta deftly removed the cooked fish from the bamboo tubes, carefully placing it on a clean leaf before him. The skin was golden and crisp, while the flesh remained juicy and tender, the fragrance of herbs perfectly melded with the savory fish, inspiring immediate appetite.


    Nuwa eagerly broke off a piece of fish and brought it to her mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste, satisfaction spreading across her face. When her amber eyes reopened, they sparkled with delight. The fish was crisp outside yet tender within, its flavor lingering pleasantly in the mouth.


    "The bones are delicate enough to eat, the flesh tender and juicy—thy skill at grilling fish has improved threefold since last we met," Nuwa praised, the beauty marks at the corners of her eyes rising slightly with her smile as she delicately wiped the oil from her lips.


    They dined quietly by the stream, with only the occasional crackling of fire and the gentle murmur of flowing water breaking the silence. The setting sun cast its crimson light upon the water, creating rippling golden reflections. The sky''s hue gradually shifted from orange-red to deep purple, finally darkening to deep blue, as stars began to twinkle in the night canopy like countless jewels adorning black velvet.


    When they had consumed the last morsel of fish, Nuwa gracefully wiped her hands and turned her attention to LaUhta, her expression growing serious. Though her posture remained relaxed, wisdom sparkled in her eyes. She carefully sensed the flow of the "One" within LaUhta, surprise and admiration flashing in her gaze.


    "The ''One'' within thee already follows thy breathing rhythm, increasing and pausing as thou focused on grilling the fish," Nuwa''s voice was clear and firm, like a stream flowing over smooth stones. "Though still somewhat rough and halting, it proves thy direction is true. Like one first learning to play a stringed instrument—the fingering may lack fluency, yet already produces melody."


    LaUhta listened silently, his eyes fixed upon the fire, flames dancing in his deep brown eyes, reflecting his contemplative expression. He felt a measure of satisfaction, but even more, a cautious reverence for the unknown path ahead.


    "A modest progress, I dare not claim mastery," LaUhta met Nuwa''s amber gaze directly, his tone steady as a mountain, humility mingled with determination. He knew his journey had barely begun, with countless unknowns yet to explore.


    "In the Tao Seedling stage, the ''One'' not only grants power but transforms the body''s very essence. Seven days without food or sleep—hast thou felt hunger or weariness?" Nuwa asked, wisdom gleaming in her eyes.


    LaUhta started, reflecting on the dreamlike seven days of practice, sudden understanding dawning. Only now did he realize he had indeed felt neither hunger nor fatigue, and the revelation shook him deeply.


    "The ''One'' has become thy body''s wellspring; food is no longer thy source of energy, nor is sleep a necessity. The ''One'' eliminates impurities and residue within, sparing thee the burdens of mortal elimination. Thy physical form is transforming into a Tao body," Nuwa''s voice was like a gentle breeze, carrying a reassuring strength.


    The fire danced, illuminating LaUhta''s astonished face, light and shadow playing across his slightly parted lips and widened eyes. He unconsciously drew a deep breath, feeling the air flow into his lungs, fingers lightly touching his chest, as if to confirm these changes truly existed.


    "One day, even breathing will become a choice rather than necessity. The ''One'' will provide all thy body requires, needing nothing from the outside world. Like a serpent in winter sleep, breath faint yet life undiminished," her voice carried longing for the future, like the telling of a beautiful prophecy.


    "Yet thy most urgent task is not to cease drawing in, but to learn mastery over the ''One,''" Nuwa''s voice was like night wind through bamboo, clear and resolute. "Thou must seek a method of release, like carving new channels to direct floodwaters to safe harbors. Let thy consciousness guide the ''One,'' like reins in the hands of a horseman, neither too loose nor too tight, allowing the steed to gallop a thousand leagues."


    LaUhta gently stroked his arm, feeling the pulse of blood vessels beneath his skin, this body undergoing changes beyond his imagination, both familiar and strange. "Then this form will no longer be mortal?" His tone mingled reverence and anticipation, like one standing at the threshold of an unknown world.


    "The mortal form transforms, becoming a Tao body," Nuwa''s eyes gleamed with mystery, her amber pupils reflecting firelight like two small suns. "Thou art no longer the ''Uhta'' of old, but a growing ''Tao Seedling,'' like a seed breaking through soil, a sapling reaching toward sunlight. If thou canst master the ''One,'' thou shalt eventually earn the title of ''Tao,'' like a towering tree with deep roots and abundant foliage." Her voice brimmed with expectations for LaUhta''s future.


    LaUhta pondered briefly, his brow furrowing slightly, thoughts flowing like a rushing stream. Suddenly, a light flashed in his eyes, like stars in the night. "If breathing becomes unnecessary, might I then completely cease drawing in the Ethereal Origin?" His voice carried a note of hope, as if he had found a key to his dilemma.


    Hearing this, a complex light flashed through Nuwa''s amber eyes, like a breeze rippling across water. She shook her head gently, her red dress swaying in the darkness like a flower blooming in the night. "Thou thinkest too simply," her tone held both understanding and correction.


    The fire crackled, embers splitting with sparks flying, illuminating their faces like two ancient, mysterious statues granted life. Nuwa extended her fair fingers, tracing an elegant arc through the air, as if drawing an invisible picture. "Breathing and drawing in may synchronize, but the absence of breath does not mean cessation of drawing in." Her voice was gentle yet firm, like a smooth pebble in a stream, calm and immovable. "They are not one and the same, like river and riverbed—companions yet each with its own nature."


    "Imagine a river flowing to the sea," Nuwa continued, her voice like night wind rustling bamboo leaves. "Thy breath regulation is like controlling a sluice gate, increasing or decreasing the water''s flow. But if the gates were abandoned entirely, the water would not cease but rush unimpeded, like a raging flood beast, breaking through embankments." Her metaphor was vivid, unfolding like a living painting before LaUhta.


    LaUhta''s expression grew solemn, a shadow of concern passing through his deep eyes like clouds obscuring moonlight. He unconsciously drew a deep breath, as if to confirm his control over breathing remained, fingers lightly touching his throat, seemingly feeling the flow of air.


    "In a state without breathing, thou wouldst likely draw in the Ethereal Origin without interruption," Nuwa''s gaze penetrated the darkness, meeting LaUhta''s eyes directly, like two bright lamps illuminating the night. "Like a collapsed dam with floods running unchecked, all restraint abandoned. The waterwheel spins wildly out of control, eventually destroying itself." Her voice carried a warning, like distant thunder heralding an approaching storm.


    The stream continued flowing in darkness, its gentle sounds seemingly confirming Nuwa''s words. LaUhta gazed silently at the flowing water, his thoughts like this never-ceasing stream, flowing toward an unknown destination, his heart filled with both questions and understanding.


    "Dost thou recall thy first encounter with the ''One''? What didst thou see and feel?" Nuwa asked, her voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable firmness, like a spring breeze containing an irresistible force.


    LaUhta remained silent for a moment, as if searching through long-sealed memories, like seeking a specific item in a cluttered storeroom. The stream''s gentle murmur filled this momentary silence, like the turning gears of time.


    "Fear, bone-deep, searing fear," LaUhta''s voice was low yet firm, his gaze seeming to pierce time and space back to that moment. "That black ''One'' poured into my body like a living thing, like countless fine needles piercing flesh, I felt as if standing above a boundless abyss, nothing beneath my feet, at any moment to fall into eternal darkness. It was not merely physical pain, but a trembling in the depths of my soul, as if I had gazed directly upon some unnameable existence."


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    "I feared losing control, feared that power would harm those in the settlement," his voice trembled slightly, his eyes flickering with the lingering shock of memory. "That fear remains to this day; whenever I feel the ''One'' flowing within me, I recall that helplessness and terror."


    Nuwa''s eyes widened slightly, understanding flashing in her amber orbs, like the final piece of a puzzle finding its place. She nodded gently, her red lips parting, her voice like the night wind''s whisper:


    "Fear is thy barrier, like a closed gate, blocking the flow of the ''One.'' Thy deep-hidden fear, like invisible shackles, prevents the ''One'' from leaving thy body, trapping it within a cage." Nuwa''s voice was gentle and profound, like a mother lulling a child to sleep.


    Nuwa rose gracefully, her red dress blossoming like a flower, stepping lightly to LaUhta''s side, settling cross-legged by the fire.


    "Thou must draw a map in thy mind, showing the ''One'' its path, like channeling water for irrigation, building ditches and embankments, guiding its direction." Nuwa''s slender fingers traced an arc in the air, as if drawing an invisible pattern. She picked up a smooth river stone, weighing its heft and shape. Her palm began to emit a soft orange glow, like the first ray of dawn, warm and full of hope.


    "Observe," Nuwa said softly, her voice melodious as a nightingale''s song.


    The river stone began to transform in her hand, as if molded by invisible fingers, finally taking the shape of an exquisite lotus, each petal lifelike, as if ready to bloom at any moment. She handed the stone lotus to LaUhta, its petals sharp-edged yet perfect, cool to the touch, gleaming softly in the moonlight.


    "This is the way of mastering the ''One.'' I infused the ''One'' into the stone, changing its structure, like a potter shaping clay, a painter wielding brush and ink," Nuwa explained, her voice clear as a mountain spring. "If the ''One'' finds no release, it becomes like flood without outlet, inevitably breaking the dam, harming oneself. With a path of release, it flows like rivers to the sea, drawing in and releasing in balance, the waterwheel turning ceaselessly, life continuing without end."


    LaUhta carefully held the stone lotus, examining its patterns in the moonlight as if treasuring a priceless artifact. Moonlight outlined each delicate line, each petal''s curve. His gaze reflected understanding and longing, like a thirsty traveler glimpsing a spring. "How might I learn this art?" His voice held urgency, like parched earth awaiting sweet rain.


    Nuwa sat gracefully beside him, her red dress spreading like a blossoming flower. She extended her hand toward his chest, where the "One" was most active. "Thou must sense the flow of the ''One'' within, like feeling blood coursing through vessels, perceiving its pulse and rhythm. Then, try to guide it to thy fingertips, like water directed into channels, droplets forming streams, streams gathering into seas." Her voice was deep and powerful, like a bell echoing through mountains, conveying ancient wisdom.


    LaUhta set down the stone lotus, closed his eyes, his back straight as a pine, his breathing even and deep. Moonlight outlined his strong profile, like an unbreakable fortress. He tried to sense the energy flowing within, concentrating all his awareness, like a hunter tracking prey, missing no trace. In his perception, the "One" flowed like countless tiny points of light, bright and active, yet like multitudes of disobedient small fish, refusing to follow his imagined path toward his fingertips.


    Through sun and moon, the murmuring stream witnessed LaUhta''s countless attempts and failures. He adjusted his breathing, focused his mind, yet remained unable to breach that invisible barrier, like a bird trapped in a transparent cage, seeing the outside world but unable to reach it. Each attempt made him more acutely aware of that fear—the instinctive dread of the "One," like an invisible wall binding energy within him, refusing release.


    LaUhta opened his eyes, shaking his head to indicate his attempt had ended in failure, frustration briefly crossing his face, like a confident traveler discovering he had taken the wrong path.


    "How strange," Nuwa''s voice held puzzlement, like encountering an unsolvable riddle. "Even as a new ''Tao Seedling,'' one should control scattered ''One'' flows, like a newborn instinctively clenching its fist. Hast thou truly no sense of it? Like a blind man touching an elephant, knowing it exists yet unable to perceive its form?" Her brow furrowed slightly, making the two beauty marks at the corners of her eyes more prominent, like two small stars in the night sky.


    LaUhta looked down at his hands, long fingers white as jade in the moonlight. "I can sense the ''One'' within, flowing like a stream, never ceasing. Yet I cannot guide its direction, like watching water but unable to determine its course, a boat following waves, powerless to steer." His voice carried a touch of resignation, yet no indication of surrender, like a traveler facing obstacles, pausing to consider the path ahead.


    Nuwa pondered briefly, the two beauty marks beneath her eyes becoming more pronounced as she frowned slightly, like two small black pearls set in white jade.


    "Perhaps we should try another approach, finding a hidden path, an uncharted course." Nuwa rose gracefully, her skirts flowing like ripples in water. She paced behind LaUhta, movements elegant as a dancer. Her red dress swayed gently in the night breeze, like a flower blooming in darkness. She bent forward, her hands gently resting on LaUhta''s broad shoulders, slender fingers transmitting warmth through his garments.


    LaUhta felt the warmth from Nuwa''s fingertips, starting slightly, his back tensing like a wary beast. Those hands appeared delicate yet contained boundless power, like a handful of fire in winter, warm and full of vitality.


    "Follow my breathing, feel the flow of the ''One,'' like a boat following waves, drifting with the current," Nuwa''s voice was like a night stream, clear and peaceful. Her breathing had a special rhythm, inhaling slowly and deeply like earth absorbing rain, exhaling gently and evenly like spring breeze across flower fields.


    LaUhta closed his eyes, attempting to match Nuwa''s breathing rhythm, like two parallel streams gradually merging into one. He felt Nuwa''s hands applying gentle pressure, like invisible strings guiding a puppet, directing the flow of the "One" within. The sensation was wondrous and unfamiliar, like a stream in rock crevices suddenly finding a new outlet, both exciting and nerve-wracking.


    "The ''One'' must follow thy will, like arm commanding finger, thought preceding action," Nuwa''s voice was gentle yet firm, resonating by LaUhta''s ear like an ancient incantation. Her right hand slid from his shoulder, grasping his wrist and gently lifting it, their fingertips touching like messengers passing secrets. In the moonlight, Nuwa''s fingertips gleamed with a faint light, like fragments of stars, as the "One" flowed from her body, forming a thin line of light in the air, like a golden thread suspended in space.


    "Observe," Nuwa said softly, her voice like a bell echoing through mountains. The light traced a graceful arc in the air, like an invisible brush painting the moonlit landscape. "Extend thy consciousness beyond thy body, and the ''One'' will follow, like vines climbing walls, requiring no deliberate control, but natural guidance, allowing it to grow freely."


    Nuwa released LaUhta''s wrist, her hands again resting on his shoulders like two settled butterflies. "The ''One'' is not foreign to thee but an extension of thy consciousness, obeying thy command like limbs. To control the ''One'' is truly to control thyself, like raising an arm or extending a finger, natural and effortless, like flowing clouds and water, heaven and man as one."


    LaUhta followed Nuwa''s guidance, extending his hands, long fingers like carved white jade in the moonlight. He closed his eyes in concentration, his brow slightly furrowing, attempting to push the "One" outward from his body. He focused intently, facial muscles tensing slightly, his jawline becoming more pronounced, like a profile carved from marble. Moonlight outlined his tall figure, forming a silent silhouette in the darkness, like a pine atop a mountain peak, straight and resilient.


    The "One" within him moved like schools of active fish, darting through his bloodstream, sometimes gathering, sometimes dispersing, yet refusing to flow along his imagined path toward his fingertips, like mischievous children ignoring commands. LaUhta increased the force of his will, his brow furrowing deeper, as if building an invisible dam in his mind, guiding that energy outward, like a shepherd directing his flock.


    Nuwa observed silently, standing beside the dying embers, like a patient teacher. Her red dress swayed gently in the breeze, like a flower in perpetual bloom. Her amber eyes flickered with thoughtful light, her brow slightly furrowed, the two beauty marks beneath her eyes particularly distinct with her expression, like stars in the night sky. Her gaze penetrated beyond appearances, directly perceiving the flow of the "One" within LaUhta, seeking the cause behind this abnormal phenomenon, like a healer diagnosing illness.


    LaUhta''s condition differed drastically from any "Tao Seedling" she had encountered before, the abundance of "One" within him astonishing, like turbulent currents beneath a placid lake surface, yet unable to be directed outward—this contradictory state deeply puzzled Nuwa, like facing an unsolvable enigma.


    Frustration rose like a tide, like waves battering coastal reefs, again and again. The accumulated disappointment finally erupted, like a long-silent volcano suddenly bursting forth. LaUhta struck a nearby rock with his fist, unleashing his inner vexation without restraint. Fist meeting stone produced a dull thud, like distant thunder.


    In that instant, when his fist contacted the rock, a faint trace of the "One''s" energy transferred from his knuckles to the stone, like electricity through a conductor. The stone''s surface briefly flashed with a transient shadow, like ink dropped into clear water, spreading then vanishing, like ripples in moonlight, gone in an eyeblink, like a fragment of dream, fleeting and ephemeral.


    Seeing this, Nuwa''s amber eyes immediately brightened like stars, like a treasure-seeker discovering a prize, excitement and joy flashing in her gaze. She keenly perceived this momentary phenomenon, like a hunter catching traces of prey. Quickly crouching down, her red dress blooming like a flower upon the stone, she picked up the rock LaUhta had struck, her slender fingers gently caressing its surface, examining it closely, like a jeweler appraising a gem. The stone''s surface had returned to normal, but Nuwa was certain of what she had seen, like witnessing lightning across the night sky—though fleeting, undeniably real.


    "The stone bears the mark of the ''One''! Like sunlight reflecting on water, momentary yet truly present!" Nuwa''s voice could not conceal her excitement, like an explorer discovering a new continent. Her red dress swayed with her movement as she rose, like a banner in the wind. She tossed the stone toward LaUhta, the stone tracing a graceful arc in the morning light, like a shooting star across the sky.


    LaUhta caught the stone, feeling its coolness and weight in his palm, his expression confused, brow slightly furrowed, like facing an incomprehensible puzzle. He could sense nothing unusual about the stone, merely an ordinary river pebble, smooth and cool, like one among countless similar stones.


    "When thou struck the stone in anger, some of the ''One'' followed thy fist, attaching to the stone, like a snake shedding its skin, leaving a trace," Nuwa walked quickly to LaUhta''s side, her hair flowing gently with her steps, wisdom gleaming in her eyes like lanterns in darkness. "This may be thy path, for each person''s way differs, like mountains with many trails leading to the summit, different routes reaching the same destination." Her voice carried joy and encouragement, like spring wind melting snow, bringing life and hope.


    LaUhta looked down at the stone in his hand, turning it over repeatedly, as if recalling the sensation of that moment, his brow gradually smoothing, like clouds parting to reveal clear sky.


    "Close thine eyes," Nuwa''s voice was gentle yet firm, like wind chimes in a breeze. "Imagine this stone not as external, but an extension of thy body, like arm to torso, like branch to trunk. As thou commandest thy limbs, as thou controllest thy body, thy thought becomes action, requiring no deliberate effort." Her voice was low yet powerful, carrying an irresistible magic, guiding LaUhta''s consciousness.


    LaUhta closed his eyes as instructed, like a meditating monk, his palm conforming to the stone''s curve, feeling its temperature and texture. He tried to extend his consciousness into the stone, viewing it as part of his own body, natural as finger or arm, like trunk and branch, inseparable. Initially, this feeling was utterly foreign, like groping through an unknown passage in darkness, directionless.


    "The flow of the ''One'' requires consciousness to guide it, like a river needs its bed," Nuwa stood nearby, her voice passing like a gentle breeze, soft yet firm. "Thy ''One'' perhaps can only be conducted through contact, like electricity requiring a conductor, rather than released at a distance like wind moving leaves. Do not resist this nature, follow its course, like sailing with the current rather than against it." The two beauty marks beneath her eyes appeared particularly distinct due to her concentration, like two black pearls set in white jade.


    Hearing this, LaUhta drew another deep breath, his chest rising slightly, concentrating all his attention on the rough stone in his palm, as if nothing else existed in the world. He strove to eliminate distractions, focusing solely on sensing the stone''s presence, like an infant gripping its mother''s finger.


    Gradually, with the passage of time, a wondrous connection formed in his consciousness, like two streams merging into a river. The sensation was profound yet ineffable, yet undeniably real, as if the stone were no longer a cold external object, but a fleshy extension of his palm, connected to his blood, sinew, and bone, like an extension of his body. He felt the "One" within beginning to flow, no longer chaotic and directionless like headless flies darting aimlessly, but with clear purpose—surging toward the stone, like a river finding its path to the sea.


    In the morning light, the stone''s surface began to undergo a subtle transformation, like ice melting, gradually revealing a new appearance. Its originally grayish-white surface slowly took on a faint black tinge, like ink dropped in clear water, gradually spreading, steadily permeating. The black deepened, like sunset yielding to darkness, light gradually consumed by shadow. From light gray to deep gray, finally becoming pure, absolute black, like a starless, moonless night sky, bottomless.


    This blackness was not an ordinary color, but a depth that devoured light, like a bottomless abyss. Morning light fell upon the stone, yet showed no reflection, as if completely absorbed, like light falling into a black hole, never to return. That blackness was like a fragment of the void, bottomless, seemingly able to consume all light, like an insatiable glutton.


    The stone in LaUhta''s palm turned black as ink, like a piece of solidified void, a fragment torn from nothingness. An instinctive fear suddenly seized his heart, like being gripped by a great hand around the throat, suffocating and terrifying. This feeling echoed the fear he had experienced when first touching the "One," like facing an incomprehensible abyss, like looking directly into the eyes of a demon. This stone was no longer stone, but had become something beyond his control, as if he held blazing fire rather than stone in his palm.


    That blackness seemed to spread, as if it would devour his hand, like a hand reaching from darkness, pulling him into endless depths. LaUhta''s pupils contracted sharply, his eyes wide with fear, like seeing a monster from nightmares. Fear instantly occupied his thoughts, like clouds obscuring sunlight, reason drowned by primitive panic, like a beast facing fire, retaining only the instinct to flee.


    "This—"


    He instinctively hurled the stone toward an empty clearing, his movement swift and unrestrained, like casting away a red-hot iron, as if desperate to distance himself from this object of terror. The force of his throw was so great that his body leaned forward, like an archer releasing all strength into the shot. As the stone left his hand, LaUhta felt a connection severed, like cutting an invisible thread, his heart feeling both relief and loss.


    The black stone traced a low arc through the air, its speed so great it left a blurred black shadow, like ink trailing across white paper. Nuwa''s eyes widened slightly, that black trajectory reflected in her amber pupils, as if witnessing an incredible miracle.


    Hundreds of paces away, when the stone struck the ground, a deafening explosion suddenly rang out, like thunder crashing beside one''s ear, causing even the stream to tremble, raising ripples across its surface. The black stone seemed not to fall to earth, but to strike with incomparable, enormous force, like a meteorite crashing from beyond the sky. The ground at the point of impact instantly shattered, like dry land torn apart by mighty force, soil and stone fragments blasting in all directions, like an exploding flower, forming a crater nearly ten feet deep, its edges charred as if scorched by intense fire.


    Dense dust rose skyward, like a massive grayish-brown flower blooming in morning light, obscuring vision. The blast wave even lifted fallen leaves by the stream, sending them spinning through the air, dispersing the morning mist, like an invisible giant''s hand sweeping across the land. LaUhta stood astonished, eyes wide with shock, unable to believe what he had witnessed, like one observing a divine miracle. That mere palm-sized river stone had released such devastating power, as if containing the might of a thousand thunderbolts.


    He looked toward Nuwa, his eyes filled with shock and confusion, seeming to seek explanation, yet also confirming he was not dreaming. Nuwa''s amber eyes similarly flashed with surprise, but even more with joy and expectation, like seeing a seed breaking through soil, promising future harvest.