“Demonic arts! He’s using forbidden demonic arts! This is sorcery! He must be imprisoned! Expelled!” He Jian’s voice shrieked, echoing off the ancient stone pillars of the Grand Plaza. His finger, still trembling, remained fixed on me. The plaza, however, had fallen into an uneasy silence. The silver radiance around Xiang An settled into the crisp hum of her newly fortified Spirit Ring. On the elevated dais, the elders exchanged wary glances, their silken sleeves rustling against polished teak. I merely raised an eyebrow. “A crude accusation from a crude mind. Did your refined senses not discern the pure, restorative qi flowing from my pill? Or are you simply incapable of differentiating genuine healing from malicious manipulation?” I leaned back slightly, affecting a casual posture, though my internal assessment of He Jian’s choleric temper noted the alarming rise in his blood pressure. Grandmaster Feng, still clutching the empty husk of the Spirit-Heart Lotus, cleared his throat. “He Jian, restrain yourself. While the method is… unorthodox, the qi signature was undeniably pure. No sinister taint was detected.” His eyes, however, still held a glint of suspicion as they swept over me. Before He Jian could launch into another tirade, a sudden, frantic scrabbling erupted from beneath my outer robe. My internal monologue sighed. *Of course.* Pangzi. A streak of brown fur and twitching whiskers erupted into the open. Pangzi, my Gourmand Spirit Squirrel, had grown impatient with the theatrics. He zipped past Grandmaster Feng, a tiny, unstoppable force of pure, unadulterated appetite. The esteemed alchemist, momentarily distracted by my defiance, had been holding a small, intricately carved jade box, clearly containing something precious. Pangzi snatched it cleanly from the old man's fingers with shocking agility. “My… my Verdant Dawn Blossom!” Grandmaster Feng sputtered, lunging forward with empty hands. The jade box was now firmly wedged between Pangzi’s tiny paws, its lid already prised open. The squirrel, ignoring the frantic shouts that erupted, began to nibble delicately at the shimmering, dew-kissed petals within. It was an herb rumored to bloom only once a decade, harvested at the precise moment of first light. Grandmaster Feng had been preparing to use it in a rare elixir. “Pangzi, you insufferable glutton!” I muttered, pushing off the ground. The squirrel merely chittered, bright eyes flashing, before launching himself into the air, bounding across the plaza with improbable agility. He vaulted over a startled student, skittered under a table laden with ceremonial scrolls, and then, with a final defiant squeak, shot towards the dense, ancient trees that bordered the far side of the Seven Rings campus – the Forbidden Woods. “Stop that creature!” He Jian bellowed, drawing his sword again. “It’s a thieving beast! A familiar of this wicked charlatan!” I ignored him. While the elders debated the finer points of my alleged sorcery, I had a more immediate problem: retrieving my perpetually hungry companion before he either consumed something truly dangerous or instigated an international incident. With a practiced exasperation, I gave chase, Pangzi’s chittering laughter – or what I interpreted as such – echoing ahead of me. The Forbidden Woods lived up to their name. A thick canopy of ancient, gnarled trees, whose branches intertwined like the arms of sleeping giants, plunged the forest floor into perpetual twilight. The air grew cooler, heavy with the scent of damp earth and unseen flora. Pangzi, however, seemed perfectly at home, his brown fur blending seamlessly with the undergrowth as he darted between moss-covered boulders and twisted roots. “Come back here, you menace!” I called out, weaving through the dense foliage. My cultivation-void body was a distinct disadvantage in a foot chase, but Pangzi rarely went truly far. He usually just wanted to lead me to something interesting, or more accurately, something edible. Deep within the woods, where the light filtered down in sparse, ethereal shafts, Pangzi finally stopped. He sat on a patch of unusually dark soil, twitching his nose rapidly. The Verdant Dawn Blossom, thankfully, was still mostly intact, though a petal or two was missing. He then began to dig, tiny paws a blur, sending dark earth flying. He wasn’t looking for herbs anymore. He was looking for something *under* the ground. “What now, you little fiend?” I sighed, approaching him. He chittered excitedly, then nudged a newly exposed root with his nose. It was an umbral bellflower, but thoroughly warped: its stalk bore an inky purple hue, its downward blossoms pulsed with an oily sheen, and the veins along its foliage shifted like writhing worms. Void corruption had seeped into the botanical structure, an abomination born of the primordial hunger outside the cosmic barrier. My mind raced. The Void Maw. The celestial seal. Xiang An’s Crimson Soul Decay. All were connected. This plant, growing freely here, meant the barrier between realms was not just weakening; it was *leaking*. Faster than I had ever anticipated. The timeline I had given Xiang An of three months suddenly seemed ludicrously optimistic. This rot far eclipsed petty academy accusations. “Shen Luan?” A soft voice broke through my frantic thoughts. I turned to see Lady Xiang An standing a few paces away, her elegant robes a stark contrast to the untamed woods. Her gaze traveled between the squirrel, the dark flora, and my face. “I… I followed you. He Jian was growing violent. Are you alright? And what is that… that strange plant?” I studied the corrupted stem. “This, Lady Xiang An, is a symptom. A very dangerous symptom.” I knelt, carefully examining the plant, avoiding direct contact. “It’s a growth from beyond our world. Its presence here means the protective warding that safeguards our realm is failing.” Her brow furrowed. “Failing? What do you mean?” “Think of it as a crack in a vast, invisible wall,” I explained, my voice low. “Through that crack, things that should not exist here are beginning to seep in. This plant is harmless to most, but its very existence indicates a significant breach. And your affliction, the Crimson Soul Decay… it is intimately tied to this same breach.” Color drained from her cheeks. “The temporary relief… it has a cost, doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She looked down at the shimmering purple petals, then searched my expression. “When you said you died to contain it… you weren’t speaking metaphorically, were you?” I met her gaze, a rare flicker of something akin to shared burden passing between us. “The pill I gave you merely suppresses the effects, Xiang An. It bought us time, yes, but it doesn’t sever the link. It can’t. Not yet. That link is what accelerates the Void Maw’s influence, and thus, your decay.” She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the back of my hand with unexpected warmth. Her pupils held firm on mine, devoid of panic. “What is the real price of my cure, Shen Luan?”

A Squirrel, A Secret, and A Stroll