Lan Xuan's careful guard over Xu Yi Fei's clay vessel paid off. Each dawn, one of the four—Lan Xuan, Qi Ziegler, Zhao Ye, and Ou Zhengqing—remained at the Emperor's Plinth in the hotel basement, ensuring the vessel lay undisturbed. Fortunate that the basement had been built with ample lighting and ventilation, no one found the darkness stifling.
Five days passed in this subterranean vigil. Over that time, Xu Yi Fei's soul, anchored to the clay form, slowly crystallized.
• Day 1: A faint mist hovered above the crown, barely discernible. • Day 2: The mist grew denser, looser than air yet more substantial—like a silken veil between hand and clay. • Day 3: The veil thickened to a springy film—hands could no longer reach the clay directly. • Day 4: The statue's surface turned half‐translucent, its red clay tinted with budding flesh‐tones. A gentle prod caused the "skin" to split like soft tofu, only to reseal seconds later. • Day 5: Veins threaded beneath the surface, and a faint heartbeat could be heard in the hush of the chamber.
On the morning of the sixth day, Lan Xuan pronounced, "The time has come to free his body from its clay shell."
Zhao Ye and Ou Zhengqing each cast their talismans—the Crimson Pearl and the Corpse Pill—at the statue. With a metallic crack, fragments of red clay crumbled away, revealing the willow‐wood skeleton beneath. Qi Ziegler reached in and gently extracted the frame.
Where once had stood merely a hollow effigy, now rose a half‐fleshed figure: Xu Yi Fei himself, eyes still closed, senses yet to awaken.
Lan Xuan, drawing upon old rites, produced powdered hair and fingernails of many souls, forged into small medicinal pills. Each dawn thereafter, they fed a pill to Xu Yi Fei. As the pill dissolved in his stomach, it dispersed into a myriad of dark particulates—sealing every void in his forming flesh and bone.
Gradually, his chest filled out, a strong heart beating beneath. Muscle firmed under the skin, and solid bone—alive once more—took shape. At last, in the City God Temple's inner chamber, Xu Yi Fei lay upon a simple cot, truly restored—yet still at rest.
A Night of Endless Vigil
Zhao Ye paced the night away at Xu Yi Fei's bedside, eyes ringed in darkness from days without sleep. Lan Xuan and Qi Ziegler shared his worry—but none more so than Ou Zhengqing. Nearly a fortnight had passed since Master Cui and Master Ma departed, and even Qi Ziegler's mission to Huangshan had yielded no word.
Lan Xuan studied the divination rods again. He sighed. "Any person or object bound to the Five Phases leaves a trace in the Heavenly Calculus. Yet Master Cui's fate registered nowhere—he must lie outside the Six Realms, beyond Yin and Yang."
Ou Zhengqing's face drained of color. "You mean… my master is—gone?"
Lan Xuan shook his head. "Not dead—his soul remains—but cast beyond mortal ken, unreachable by our arts."
At that moment, Xu Yi Fei stirred, an echoing "cluck" from his throat. Zhao Ye dashed to his side: "Brother Xu—awake!"
Xu Yi Fei's lids fluttered, then opened. He breathed in and smiled faintly. "Where… where am I?"
"You rest in the City God Temple," Lan Xuan said gently.
Qi Ziegler fetched warm broth; Zhao Ye rose to comfort his friend.
Lan Xuan pressed Xu Yi Fei's pulse. "Steady once more—balanced as ever."
Xu Yi Fei looked upon them all with grateful eyes. "My debt to you all… I cannot repay."
Lan Xuan laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your life repays us more than any ritual could. Go forth as a guardian of righteousness—and live fully once again."