Chapter 102: Weakness

Weakness

"How are you?"

"Nothing much, it'll be over soon." Fu Guang reached out and wiped the blood from her face.

The medicine took effect, but whether to call it good luck or bad luck, the price of using the potential medicine had only taken half effect on her.

This half was not enough to destroy her foundation completely, forcing her to start cultivation anew; but it left her continuously weak for a long time.

She didn't know how long this would last—maybe a year, two years, or even a lifetime.

The mental landscape barrier's repair effect was also unsatisfactory; a thin film formed over the shattered mental landscape, preventing the mental energy inside from dissipating, making it extremely fragile—whenever she heavily uses mental energy, the film becomes useless.

But the barrier that could truly protect the mental landscape had not been fully repaired; mental threads, stitch by stitch, wove her mental landscape at an extremely slow pace, and it was unknown when complete healing would occur.

The good news is that Fu Guang turned her gaze to the round, full blue egg; Xiao Lan will not absorb her mental energy for a short time.

After a while, no more blood appeared on the girl's body, but her complexion was pallid, like that of someone not yet recovered from a serious illness.

Her eyelids drooped, half-covering her eyes, making her look lacking in energy.

Gurgle.

The Xiao Lan flower absorbed all the blood bubbles, falling onto Fu Guang's fingertip; the slender vine coiled twice around the girl's index finger, looking like a beautiful ring.

Fu Guang propped up her tail, half-closed her eyes, and spoke in a clear, slow voice: "Don't worry, isn't this already healed?"

Two distinct streams of mental energy swept past her, hesitated a moment, then probed her internal condition; Fu Guang did not stop them, and the two streams retracted their aggressiveness, delicately exploring along her meridians.

However, the two streams of mental energy seemed not to like touching each other, moving in tacit understanding while staying apart.

Half a moment later, she heard a soft sigh behind her ear, as if she had finally let go.

Xiguang meticulously used his fingertip to gently wipe away the bloodstains inside the golden scales; the tail before him trembled, and the tail gauze rippled beautifully.

"Don't touch." The girl's voice trembled; dissatisfied, she lifted her tail and swept it across his face.

With a gentle restraint, Xiguang lifted his gaze; the girl lay powerless against the merfolk's abdomen, her thin eyelids drooping, her eyeballs motionless beneath, half-asleep, clearly gravely weakened.

What now?

Lan Qian's inquiring gaze came over; his fingertip rested on the girl's thin shoulder, signaling Xiguang to hold up the weak guide.

Xiguang's movements were somewhat stiff; the girl lay motionless in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his shoulder, her long tail dangling down, dreamlike and illusory.

The girl's eyes flickered, she slowly opened them, and called out to the merfolk about to leave: "What are you doing?"

Lan Qian's tail paused; he said, "You're injured, you need herbs—I'll go find them and be back soon."

"No need, my wound won't heal with just a few herbs." The girl's voice was weak and breathless; Lan Qian passed his own mental thread over.

After Fu Guang received it, she lifted her gaze to Xiguang, who stared blankly at her.

"The Sentinel in a half-mutated state does not obey commands with its mental power."

"What?" Fu Guang recalled Xiguang's earlier use of mental power; it didn't seem like he wasn't obeying commands.

She wanted to sit up, but the arm behind her supported her spine and lifted her up.

"Lower your head."

The silver-haired Sentinel obediently lowered his head; his forehead was gently touched, and his gaze was drawn to the red mole on the girl's wrist.

"Don't resist me." Now her mental power is not what it used to be; if the Sentinel resists her, she cannot open his mental landscape.

Fu Guang's fragile mental threads had just entered the Sentinel's mental landscape when Xiguang let out a sudden low gasp; her hand stiffened a little.

Lan Qian's voice came from behind her, somewhat aggrieved: "Little fish, when you go back, can you properly check the relationship between the guide and the Sentinel?"

"Also, knowledge about the mental landscape."

Fu Guang carries too many points that are out of place in the interstellar setting; she consciously retains those traits, and unless necessary, she does not delve into the guide's knowledge—or rather, she pays no attention and forgets it at a glance.

What is necessary merely includes the guide's purification, mental control, and some other self-preservation methods.

But this is too indifferent toward them.

The mental threads swiftly emerged from the golden cloud layer, finding the similarly feeble little light sprite.

It detected the guide's mental thread; the golden wings on its back twitched, but it lacked the strength to fly toward the guide, only managing to weakly grasp that thread of mental energy.

It's become this weak?

Fu Guang used mental threads to hook the little sprite out of the Sentinel's mental landscape; at the moment of consciousness returning, Xiguang, who had at some point removed his mask, was kissing the vermilion mole on her wrist.

His sharp teeth seemed about to bite; Fu Guang's hand trembled, and the Sentinel's sharp teeth scraped her fragile skin, drawing a thread of blood through her pale flesh.

Xiguang's pupils instantly constricted; he immediately licked the wound, hoping it would heal quickly.

Fu Guang's originally pallid face froze in shock at this turn of events—"cough."

The fragile skin was held in the beast's mouth; Fu Guang's tail twitched.

Here with Fu Guang, Xiguang is extremely rigid and proper, like a mortal scholar who clings to dead principles, adhering to rules and never overstepping.

She doesn't worry much that such a person would do anything outrageous; making him go against his own rules is harder than killing him.

Actually, earlier I was just teasing him; for a guide to violate federal law is also very difficult, since federal law regarding guides is extremely lax—basically, as long as one doesn't betray the federation, it's fine.

The rest can be exempted from criminal liability by paying points; who made guides so rare that any action can be forgiven?

The face with the mask removed, its contours stark in light and shadow, makes one think of brightness, inspiring a desire to draw near yet feeling unattainable.

The blue water-drop mark on her cheek mars the overall beauty, giving it a slight flaw, yet it also lends the face some vitality.

A fine itch came from her wrist; even after the wound healed, he still didn't let go, seemingly very fond of that mole on her wrist.

"Let go." Fu Guang saw that his state was off, like a dog gnawing a bone, wanting to drag her wrist into his mouth.

Although he is in a half-mutated state, with bestiality suppressing humanity, Xiguang still gave up the meat in his hand, lowered his gaze to the girl in his arms, and felt a restless yearning.

Fu Guang sensed his gaze was somewhat dangerous; Lan Qian seized the moment, left directly to find medicine, and now it was just the two of them—her breathing grew lighter, and she pushed with her hand at the little sprite perched on her forehead.

She gave a light cough.