Seven days passed like a dream, with mountain and stream as companions.

  After Nuwa's departure, LaUhta dared not stray a step from the streamside. The water ran clear to its depths, sunlight piercing the surface to cast dappled shadows upon the smooth stones below. Wind rustled through the forest leaves with a gentle whispering, like the murmurs of nature itself. Not knowing when Nuwa might return, he feared missing crucial teachings, and so resolved to practice in place, patiently awaiting his mentor's return.

  He paced along the stream's edge, his gaze falling sometimes upon the water's glimmering surface, sometimes upon the distant mountains. His footsteps formed a perfect circle, treading repeatedly over the same ground until the grass beneath lay flattened. Each step accompanied a conscious regulation of breath—drawing in Ethereal Origin like gentle streams during deep inhalation, deliberately slowing the absorption during exhalation, savoring this wondrous sensation like one might savor fine tea. The murmuring water, the wind through the treetops, and his breathing and footsteps interwove in simple, harmonious rhythm.

  As twilight fell on the first day, the sky was stained with orange-red, the mountains standing like silhouettes of ink against the sunset. LaUhta was surprised to find himself untouched by weariness, his mind clearer than at dawn. His body seemed like a water wheel that never ceased turning, endlessly transforming Ethereal Origin into the "One," while he remained like the axle at the wheel's center, quietly observing this eternal cycle with both wonder and reverence.

  On the third day, morning dew hung like pearls upon grass tips, dampening his white robe. Droplets glided along the hem, yet could not penetrate his concentration. Distant mountains appeared and disappeared in the morning mist, hazy as an ink painting. Birds came to forage, occasionally perching on nearby branches, tilting their heads curiously at this sleepless, restless human, their clear calls seeming to question his persistence. LaUhta smiled inwardly, yet maintained his steady pace, his back straight as a pine, his face showing neither weariness nor hunger.

  On the fifth day, heavy clouds rolled in from distant peaks, obscuring the sun. A sudden rain swept through the forest, drops striking the leaves with a dense patter, water sliding down his hair and shoulders like tears. LaUhta remained indifferent to the changing weather, the rain soaking him completely, his white robe clinging to his form, outlining his tall frame. Yet still 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; rather, it strengthened his resolve.

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

  As sunset blazed red across the horizon, clouds layered like waves, adorning the sky in splendid colors. LaUhta was completing his final circuit when he sensed a familiar presence from afar, like a gentle breeze bringing comfort. He stopped immediately, his gaze turning toward the path. He saw Nuwa's red dress particularly striking in the twilight, like a flower blooming in darkness. She approached him with graceful steps, her long hair floating in the wind, her face bearing a mysterious smile, her amber eyes gleaming in the fading sunlight.

  "Have you made progress these seven days?" she asked, her voice clear as a spring. Nuwa offered no explanation of where she had been, nor did LaUhta presume to inquire, merely nodding slightly in respectful acknowledgment.

  Nuwa found a flat rock by the stream and sat down, her legs naturally folded, her red dress spreading across the stone's surface like a blossoming flower, highlighting her fingers, as fresh as spring shoots, and her fair skin. She gestured that LaUhta might begin preparing grilled fish, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, the two symmetrical beauty marks beneath her eyes appearing particularly vivid with her changing expression.

  "After seven days of journeying, today we shall reward ourselves with grilled fish," Nuwa said lightly, her eyes smiling. The stream flowed beside her, occasionally splashing small droplets, like the joy in her words.

  LaUhta nodded and turned toward the stream. He crouched down, his eyes fixed intently on the water's surface, focused as a hunter. Sunlight penetrated through gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the stream bed, where fish darted through the patterns of light and shadow. He held his breath, his arm suddenly plunging into the water like a released arrow, seizing a plump fish. Water splashed as the fish struggled violently in his grasp, its scales flashing silver in the sunlight, yet unable to escape his iron-like fingers.

  He skillfully found a flat stone, preparing the fish with practiced ease, his movements flowing naturally. Blood ran through cracks in the stone into the stream, quickly diluted and washed away. From a small pouch at his waist, he took fine salt and wild herbs he had gathered, gently stuffing them into the fish's cavity, ensuring the seasonings were evenly distributed. He found two bamboo tubes, securing the fish between them to prevent the flesh from falling apart and to retain moisture. He sought out dry bamboo branches, arranged them neatly in a clearing, and took out the fire stones he carried, quickly lighting a fire. Under his careful tending, the flames grew strong, licking at the bamboo tubes, which made slight crackling sounds, releasing a unique fragrance that mingled with the aroma of fish in the air.

  They sat upon the ground, the fire dancing between them, its light illuminating their faces, one bright and one shadowed, one moving and one still. Nuwa's gaze no longer focused on the grilling fish but penetrated beyond appearances to observe the energy flowing within LaUhta. Her gaze was intense and profound, as if able to perceive the essence of all things.

  The fish turned golden and crisp under the flames, its aroma spreading, enticing the appetite. LaUhta deftly removed the grilled fish from the bamboo tubes, carefully placing it on a clean leaf before him. The skin was golden and crisp, the flesh within still juicy and tender, the fragrance of herbs perfectly combined with the fish's natural flavor, making one's mouth water.

  Nuwa eagerly took a piece of fish and placed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face. When her amber eyes opened again, they sparkled with delight. The fish was crisp outside and tender inside, its flavor spreading through the mouth, leaving a lasting impression.

  "The bones are crisp enough to eat, the flesh tender and juicy—your skill at grilling fish has improved even beyond before," Nuwa praised, the beauty marks at the corners of her eyes lifting slightly with her smile as she gently wiped the oil from her lips.

  They ate quietly by the stream, with only the occasional crackling of bamboo and the murmur of flowing water breaking the silence. The setting sun cast its blood-red light upon the water, making it shimmer like scattered gold. The sky's color gradually shifted from orange-red to deep purple, finally darkening to deep blue, as stars began to twinkle in the night sky, like countless jewels adorning black velvet.

  When they had finished the last piece of fish, Nuwa gracefully wiped her hands, turning her gaze toward LaUhta, her expression growing serious. Though her posture remained relaxed, her eyes sparkled with wisdom. She carefully sensed the flow of the "One" within LaUhta, her eyes reflecting surprise and admiration.

  "The 'One' within you already increases and pauses with your breathing rhythm, even as you focused on grilling the fish," Nuwa's voice was clear and firm, like a spring flowing over pebbles. "Though still somewhat awkward and halting, it proves your direction is correct. Like one first learning to play a stringed instrument—though the fingering may not be smooth, it can already produce notes."

  LaUhta listened quietly, his eyes fixed on the fire, its light dancing in his deep brown eyes, reflecting his thoughtfulness. He felt a touch of satisfaction, but more so caution and reverence for the unknown path ahead.

  "Small progress, not worthy of being called mastery," LaUhta looked directly into Nuwa's amber eyes, his tone steady as a mountain, humility mingled with determination. He knew his journey had only just begun, with countless unknowns awaiting exploration.

  "In the 'Tao Seedling' stage, the 'One' is not merely power, but changes the very essence of the body. Have you felt hunger or weariness in these seven days without food or sleep?" Nuwa asked, wisdom gleaming in her eyes.

  LaUhta started, reflecting on the seven days of practice that had passed like a dream, and suddenly realized. Only then did he become aware that he had indeed felt neither hunger nor fatigue, and was profoundly amazed.

  "The 'One' has become the source of your body's energy; food is no longer needed, nor is sleep necessary. The 'One' eliminates impurities and residues from your body, sparing you the need for ordinary elimination. Your 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 interplaying across his features, highlighting his slightly parted lips and widened eyes. He unconsciously took a deep breath, feeling the air entering his lungs, his fingertips lightly touching his chest, as if to confirm these changes were real.

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

  "Yet the urgent matter is not to cease absorption, but to learn control of the 'One,'" Nuwa's voice was like night wind through bamboo groves, clear and determined. "You must find a way to release it, like carving new channels to guide floodwaters to safe places. Guiding the 'One' with your thoughts, like a rider with reins, neither too loose nor too tight, allowing for a journey of a thousand miles."

  LaUhta gently stroked his arm, feeling the pulse of blood vessels beneath his skin, this body undergoing changes he had never imagined, both familiar and strange. "Does this mean my body will no longer be mortal?" his tone mixed awe and anticipation, like one standing at the threshold of an unknown world.

  "The mortal shell transforms, eventually becoming a Tao body," Nuwa's eyes gleamed mysteriously, her amber pupils reflecting the firelight like two small suns. "You are no longer the 'Uhta' of old, but a growing 'Tao Seedling,' like a seed breaking through soil, a sapling growing toward the sun. If you can master the 'One,' you will eventually earn the title of 'Tao,' like a towering tree, roots deep and branches flourishing." Her voice was full of expectation for LaUhta's future.

  LaUhta pondered for a moment, his brow slightly furrowed, thoughts rushing like a stream. Suddenly, a light flashed in his eyes, like a star in the night sky. "If breathing becomes unnecessary, does that mean I could completely stop absorbing Ethereal Origin?" His voice carried a note of hope, as if he had found the key to his dilemma.

  Hearing this, a complex light flashed in Nuwa's amber eyes, like a breeze rippling across water, raising small waves. She shook her head gently, her red dress swaying slightly in the night air like a flower blooming in darkness. "You think too simply," her tone contained both understanding and correction.

  The fire crackled, charcoal splitting, sparks flying, illuminating their faces like two ancient and mysterious statues given life. Nuwa extended her fair fingers, tracing an elegant arc in the air, as if drawing an invisible picture. "Breathing and absorption may synchronize, but ceasing breath does not mean ceasing absorption," her voice was gentle yet firm, like a pebble in a stream, calm and immovable. "The two are not one and the same, like river and riverbed, flowing together yet each with its own nature."

  "Imagine a river flowing to the sea," Nuwa continued, her voice like night wind rustling bamboo leaves. "Your breath regulation is like controlling a sluice gate, able to increase or decrease the water's flow. But if the gates were entirely removed, the water would not stop but rush forth unhindered, like a flood beast, destroying all dams." Her metaphor was vivid, like unfolding a living painting before LaUhta.

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

  "In a state without breathing, you would likely absorb Ethereal Origin without interruption," Nuwa's gaze pierced the darkness, looking directly into LaUhta's eyes like two lamps illuminating the night. "Like a collapsed dam, floodwaters spreading unchecked, without restraint. The water wheel would spin out of control, eventually destroying itself." Her voice carried a warning, like distant thunder heralding an approaching storm.

  The stream continued flowing in the darkness, its gentle sound seeming to affirm Nuwa's words. LaUhta gazed quietly at the flowing water, his thoughts like this never-ceasing stream, flowing toward an unknown destination, his heart filled with both questions and understandings.

  "Do you recall when you first touched the 'One'? What did you see and feel then?" Nuwa asked, her voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable firmness, like a gentle spring breeze harboring irresistible force.

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

  "Fear, bone-deep fear," LaUhta's voice was low and firm, his gaze seeming to pierce time and space back to that moment. "That black 'One' surged into my body like a living thing, like countless fine needles piercing flesh and blood. I felt as if standing above an endless abyss, nothing beneath my feet, about to fall into eternal darkness. It was not merely physical pain, but the trembling of the soul's depths, as if gazing upon something nameless and incomprehensible."

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  "I feared losing control, feared that power might harm those in the settlement," his voice trembled slightly, his eyes flashing with the lingering dread 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, a flash of understanding passing through her amber gaze, 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 the barrier, like a closed gate, blocking the flow of the 'One.' Your deep-seated fear is like an invisible shackle, keeping the 'One' confined within your flesh, trapped in a cage." Nuwa's voice was gentle yet profound, like a mother soothing a child to sleep.

  Nuwa rose gracefully, her red dress blooming like a flower, and walked to LaUhta's side, settling cross-legged by the fire with fluid grace.

  "You must draw a map in your mind for the 'One,' showing it the path, like guiding water for irrigation, digging channels and building embankments, directing its course." Nuwa's slender fingers traced an arc in the air, as if drawing an invisible pattern. She picked up a smooth pebble, 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.

  "Watch me," Nuwa said softly, her voice like a nightingale's song, pleasant to the ear.

  The pebble began to change shape in her hand, as if molded by invisible fingers, finally transforming into the shape of an exquisite lotus flower, each petal lifelike, as if about to bloom. She handed the stone lotus to LaUhta, its petals sharp-edged yet perfect, cool to the touch, gleaming softly in the moonlight.

  "This is how to control the 'One.' I infused it into the stone, changing its structure, like a potter shaping clay, a painter wielding a brush." Nuwa explained, her voice clear as a mountain spring, transparent to its depths. "If the 'One' has no outlet, it is like floodwaters without escape, inevitably breaching the dam, harming oneself. If there is a path for release, then like rivers flowing to the sea, absorption and release balance each other, the water wheel turns without ceasing, life continues without end."

  LaUhta carefully held the stone lotus, examining its patterns in the moonlight as if it were a precious treasure. Moonlight fell upon the stone lotus, outlining each delicate pattern, the curve of each petal. His gaze reflected understanding and longing, like a thirsty traveler glimpsing a spring. "How am I to learn this art?" His voice was filled with eagerness, like parched earth awaiting sweet rain.

  Nuwa sat down gracefully beside him, her red dress spreading like a blooming flower. She pointed toward his chest, where the "One" was most active. "You must sense the flow of the 'One' within you, like feeling blood rushing through veins, perceiving its pulse and rhythm. Then, try to guide it to extend to your fingertips, like water directed into channels, drops forming streams, streams joining the sea." Her voice was deep and powerful, like a bell echoing in the 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 tall figure, like an impregnable fortress. He tried to feel the energy flowing within, concentrating all his mind, like a hunter tracking prey, missing no trace. In his perception, the "One" flowed like countless tiny points of light within him, bright and active, yet like many small fish refusing to follow his imagined path to his fingertips.

  The sun rose and set, the flowing stream witnessed countless attempts and defeats. He adjusted his breathing, focused his mind, yet could not break through 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 the energy within him, refusing release.

  LaUhta opened his eyes, shaking his head to indicate his failure, a touch of defeat crossing his face, like a confident traveler discovering he had taken the wrong path.

  "How strange," Nuwa's voice carried puzzlement, as if confronting an unanswerable riddle. "Even as a new 'Tao Seedling,' you should be able to control small amounts of the 'One,' like a newborn instinctively clenching its fist. Do you truly have no sense of it? Like a blind man feeling an elephant, knowing it exists but unable to grasp its form?" Her brow furrowed slightly, making the two beauty marks beneath her eyes more prominent, like two small stars in the night sky.

  LaUhta looked down at his hands, his long fingers white as jade in the moonlight. "I can sense the 'One' within me, flowing ceaselessly like a stream. Yet I cannot guide its direction, like observing water but unable to determine its course, a boat drifting with the current, powerless to steer." His voice carried a touch of helplessness, yet no sign of surrender, like a traveler facing obstacles, pausing to consider the path ahead.

  Nuwa pondered for a moment, 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, opening a new trail." Nuwa rose gracefully, her skirts rippling like waves on water. She walked behind LaUhta, her movements as elegant as a dancer. Her red dress swayed gently in the night breeze, like a flower blooming in darkness. She bent down, her hands resting lightly on LaUhta's broad shoulders, her slender fingers transmitting warmth through his garments.

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

  "Breathe with me, feel the flow of the 'One,' like a boat following waves, drifting downstream," Nuwa's voice was like evening waters, clear and tranquil. Her breathing had a special rhythm, inhaling slowly and deeply, like earth absorbing rain, exhaling softly and evenly, like spring breeze across a field of flowers.

  LaUhta closed his eyes, attempting to match Nuwa's breathing rhythm, like two 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 strange and unfamiliar, like a stream in rock crevices suddenly finding a new outlet, both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

  "The 'One' must move with the heart, like arm commanding finger, will becoming action," Nuwa's voice was gentle yet firm, echoing in LaUhta's ears like an ancient incantation. Her right hand slid from his shoulder, grasping his wrist and lifting it gently, their fingertips touching, like messengers passing a secret. In the moonlight, Nuwa's fingertips glowed faintly, like fragments of stars, the "One" flowing from her body, forming a thin line of light in the air, like a golden thread suspended.

  "Observe," Nuwa said softly, her voice like a bell echoing in the mountains. The light traced an elegant arc in the air, like an invisible brush painting a moonlit landscape. "Extend your will beyond your body, and the 'One' will follow, like vines climbing a wall. Do not deliberately control it, but guide it naturally, allowing it to grow of its own accord."

  Nuwa released LaUhta's wrist, her hands once more resting on his shoulders like two butterflies alighting. "The 'One' is not an external object, but an extension of your will, obeying your command like a limb. To control the 'One' is to control yourself, as natural as raising an arm or extending a finger." Her voice was like wind through bamboo groves, rustling softly, conveying ancient wisdom.

  Following Nuwa's guidance, LaUhta extended his arms, his long fingers like white jade in the moonlight. He closed his eyes in concentration, his brow slightly furrowed, attempting to push the "One" within him outward. He focused completely, the muscles of his face tightening slightly, his jawline becoming more pronounced, like a profile carved in marble. Moonlight outlined his tall figure, forming a silent silhouette in the night, like a pine atop a mountain, tall and unyielding.

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

  Nuwa observed all this quietly, standing by the embers of the fire like a patient teacher. Her red dress swayed gently in the breeze, like a flower in perpetual bloom. Wisdom gleamed in her amber eyes as she frowned slightly, the two beauty marks beneath her eyes appearing especially distinct due to her expression, like stars in the night sky. Her gaze pierced through appearances to observe the flow of the "One" within LaUhta, like a physician diagnosing an ailment.

  LaUhta's condition differed entirely from other "Tao Seedlings" she had encountered; the amount of "One" contained within him was astonishing, like powerful currents beneath a placid lake surface, yet he could not guide it outward—this contradictory state deeply puzzled Nuwa, like facing an unsolvable riddle.

  Frustration welled up like a tide, like waves striking coastal rocks, again and again. The accumulated disappointment finally erupted, like a long-silent volcano suddenly exploding. LaUhta struck a nearby rock with his fist, venting his inner frustration without restraint. The collision of fist and stone produced a dull sound, like distant thunder.

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

  Seeing this, Nuwa's amber eyes immediately brightened like stars, like a treasure-seeker discovering a precious find, her eyes flashing with joy and excitement. She keenly observed this fleeting phenomenon, like a hunter catching traces of prey. Quickly crouching down, her red dress blooming like a flower on the stone surface, she picked up the rock LaUhta had struck, her slender fingers gently stroking 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, fleeting yet real.

  "The stone bears the mark of the 'One'! Like sunlight on water, fleeting yet undeniably real!" Nuwa's voice contained undisguised excitement, like an explorer discovering a new continent. Her red dress swayed with her rising movement, like a banner fluttering in the wind. She tossed the stone toward LaUhta, tracing a graceful arc in the morning light, like a meteor crossing the sky.

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

  "When you struck the stone in anger, some of the 'One' followed your punch, adhering to the stone like a snake shedding its skin, leaving a trace." Nuwa quickly approached LaUhta, her hair floating gently with her steps, wisdom gleaming in her eyes like lamps in darkness. "This may be your path. Each person's way differs, like multiple trails leading to a mountain peak, different routes to the same destination." Her voice carried joy and encouragement, like spring wind blowing over snow, bringing life and hope.

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

  "Close your eyes," Nuwa's voice was gentle yet firm, like a deer bell in the breeze. "Imagine this stone not as an external object, but an extension of your body, like an arm to the torso, like branches to a trunk. As you command your limbs, as you control your body, will it and it shall obey, without deliberate effort." Her voice was low and powerful, carrying an irresistible magic, guiding LaUhta's mind.

  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, to view it as part of his own body, as natural as fingers or arms, like the relationship between trunk and branch, inseparable. Initially, this feeling was utterly foreign, like groping through an unknown passage in darkness, disoriented.

  "The flow of the 'One' requires consciousness to guide it, like a river needs a riverbed," Nuwa stood nearby, her voice like a breeze passing by, gentle yet firm. "Your 'One' perhaps can only be transmitted through contact, like electric current requiring a conductor, rather than being released at a distance like wind moving leaves. Do not resist this characteristic, follow its nature, as it is easier to sail with the current 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 took another deep breath, his chest rising slightly, focusing all his attention on the rough stone in his palm, as if it were the only thing in the world. He strove to clear his mind of distractions, concentrating solely on sensing the stone's presence, like an infant gripping its mother's finger.

  Gradually, as time passed, a wondrous sense of connection slowly formed in his consciousness, like two streams merging into a river. The feeling was profound yet inexplicable, yet unmistakably real, as if the stone were no longer a cold external object, but a flesh extension growing from his palm, connected to his blood, flesh, and bone, an extension of his body. He felt the "One" within begin to flow, no longer chaotic and disordered like frantic flies, but with clear direction—moving toward the stone, like a river finding its outlet to the sea.

  In the morning light, the stone's surface began to change subtly, like ice melting, gradually revealing a new appearance. Its originally gray-white surface slowly took on a faint black hue, like ink dropped into clear water, gradually spreading and permeating. The blackness deepened, like sunset giving way to darkness, light gradually devoured by shadow. From light gray to dark gray, finally becoming pure black, like a starless, moonless night sky, bottomless.

  This black was not an ordinary color, but a depth that devoured light, like a bottomless abyss. Morning light falling on the stone produced 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 swallow all light, like an insatiable beast.

  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 gripped his heart, like being choked by a great hand, suffocating and terrifying. This feeling matched exactly his fear when first touching the "One," like facing an incomprehensible abyss, like gazing into a demon's eyes. This stone was no longer a stone, but had become something he could not control, as if he held fire in his palm rather than rock.

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

  "This—"

  He instinctively hurled the stone toward an empty space, his movement swift and unreserved, like throwing away a red-hot iron, as if desperate to distance himself from this thing of terror. The force of his throw was so great that his body leaned forward, like an archer who had released all his strength. As the stone left his hand, LaUhta felt some 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 dragged across white paper. Nuwa's eyes widened slightly, the black trajectory reflected in her amber pupils, as if witnessing an incredible miracle.

  Hundreds of paces away, as the stone struck the ground, a deafening explosion suddenly erupted, like thunder cracking beside one's ear, so violent that even the stream trembled, ripples spreading across its surface. The black stone seemed not to have fallen to earth, but to have struck with incomparable force, like a meteorite from the heavens. The ground split at the point of impact, like parched earth torn by tremendous force, soil and stone fragments shooting in all directions, like an exploding flower, forming a pit nearly ten feet deep, its edges charred as if burned by fierce fire.

  Dense dust rose skyward, like a huge gray-brown flower blooming in the morning light, obscuring vision. The blast even lifted fallen leaves by the stream, sending them spinning through the air, dispersing the morning mist, like an invisible giant hand sweeping across the land. LaUhta stood stunned, his eyes wide with shock, unable to believe what he had witnessed, as if observing a divine miracle. That mere palm-sized river stone had possessed such destructive power, as if containing the might of thunder and lightning.

  He looked toward Nuwa, his eyes full of shock and confusion, as if seeking explanation, or confirming he was not dreaming. Nuwa's amber eyes also reflected surprise, but even more so joy and expectation, like seeing a seed break through soil, promising future harvest.