Light spiraled around him. Something wrenched at Hui’s body, pulling it apart. He screamed, soundlessly. The rift devoured all sound. Hui hung between the worlds, neither in the realm nor the world he’d come from. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of darkness, biting through the brilliant light. Then the world shook, and Hui fell into the True Self Realm.

For a moment, he caught a glimpse of pure blue skies and a sea of red poppies. Then a horrible weight crashed onto his shoulders. Instinctively, Hui played dead.

The second he did, his soul fell out of his body. Hui came back to life and reached for his body, but found nothing below him. He blinked, confused, looking around him.

Gray skies stretched overhead. Low clouds blanketed the skies, dull and dead. Underfoot, dead poppies stood stiffly in rows, heads bowed, gray and dusty. Gray dust laid thick on the ground and the poppies, not a single footstep in sight. No sign of his body, nor of the entrance to the realm, nor of any exit.

Hui rubbed his eyes, but no color returned. I should be able to see in color as a soul, now. There’s just no color in this realm.

In… this version of this realm. What happened? Why am I… here? Where did my body go?

Hui startled, then glanced around. “Elder Sister Reaper…?”

No cold snort rang out. Hui frowned. Eh? I guess she can’t get in here?

He closed one eye, reaching out to Fang Hua, but received no response. His call fell into a dark void, far from anything he could reach. Looks like our connection has been severed.

With nothing else to do, Hui wandered into the realm. Dust swirled around his feet and hung in the air behind him, as if even the air refused to move. Dry poppies rustled past, loud as shuffling paper and stiff as hay. On and on, passing silently through the field.

He lost track of time. The sun never appeared, nor the moon. The sky remained the same dreary, boring gray, never changing. The poppies continued, endless and dead. Gray dust whispered past.

As he walked, his body began to fade. Feet first, then hands, paling and turning more translucent, until he glided over the ground instead of walking, until his hands were bare outlines. His gaze fixed on the horizon. No thoughts passed through his head, only walking, onward, eternally.

He lifted his hands and clenched them, then rubbed them together. So cold. I’m freezing.

…when is the last time I felt cold?

Startled, Hui circulated his death qi. His hands darkened, turning more solid, and he stumbled as legs formed under him. He slapped his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide. I almost fell under the realm’s influence! Awake and alert, Hui! Awake and alert!

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He looked around him, searching for some kind of hint, a way out. I don’t see any pavilions in this version of the world. Nor that hill, nor the swordswoman.

Is this some kind of punishment, in the shadow version of the realm? But... why? Why was I sent here?

True Self Realm...

Hui walked on, but now he walked warily, eyes open, head on a swivel. The realm soothed him, the dry scent of the dust gently freezing him. He circulated his death qi at a low level as he walked to fight off the soothing effect and the effect of the scent. Despite his best efforts, he still grew tired as he walked. Barely a few hours passed before he had to pause and take a break to catch his breath.

Almost like a mortal. He grit his teeth and wiped his brow. This realm is sapping away at my soul. If I don’t find my body soon… even considering that I cultivated my soul, I’ll be worn away by the realm and perish.

Li Xiang… I hope she didn’t end up like me!

Fluttering in the corner of his eye. He turned. A pavilion stood beside him, maybe a hundred yards away. Tattered, grayed silk curtains hung dead around the pavilion’s open walls.

Foreboding sunk into Hui’s heart. He swallowed and approached slowly, wary of the strange place. There were no pavilions a moment ago, I’m sure of it. The realm wanted me to see this.

A stiff wind blew. Hui’s ponytail thrashed around his face, his robes flying around his legs. The dry poppies whispered all around him. On the pavilion, the shredded silk curtains caught the wind. The silk danced like ghosts, fluttering around the wooden structure as if the curtains were moths seeking out a flame.

Hui shivered. He hugged his arms and continued to approach. The wind blew in his face, sending his hair and robes streaming out behind him. He touched his neck, concerned about Zhubi in the cold, but the snake wasn’t there. His hand fell limply, empty.

I am in soul form, after all, Hui thought to himself. Still, cold shivered through his heart, heightening the sensation of foreboding. Everyone’s leaving. Everyone’s abandoning me.

A dark shadow hung over the pavilion, obscuring its inside. Hui swallowed, hesitant. At last, he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. I don’t know how to get out of here. If I don’t try, I’ll never know if this is the way out. I have to step into that shadow!

Worst case, I’ll just play dead.

He lifted his hand to stroke Zhubi again and awkwardly touched his neck instead. With one last nervous glance behind him, he stepped into the shadow.

His foot landed on soft loam, and he suddenly stood in a garden. Tall plants stretched to the heavens all around him. Bright sun beat down. Color returned to the world, the earth rich brown, the plants vibrant green. He blinked, confused. I… escaped?

A cold wind tickled down his spine. He hugged himself tighter, rubbing his arms. No. I’m still in the realm. This is only an illusion.

“Careful! The sprouts!” a man called. Calloused hands grabbed Hui and pulled him to the side.

Hui glanced down. Tiny sprouts pushed through the earth below, barely peeking through the loam. He shuffled aside apologetically. “I’m sorry, Elder Brother. I didn’t see them.”

A man with a vaguely familiar face smiled at Hui. “It’s fine. You didn’t crush any of the sprouts.”

Clearing his throat, Hui glanced around. Half to himself, he muttered, “Where are we?”

“Eh? Starbound Sect. This is Jade Garden Peak. Come on, Junior Brother. I’ll show you the basics of plant cultivation.” The man smiled at him and gestured him on.

Hui looked up at the man. Who is he? I feel like I’ve seen his face once before. But where? When? Pausing, he considered, then asked, “Elder Brother, how long have you been here?”

“For as long as I can remember. Since I was a child,” the man said, sighing in contentment. He walked off, through the garden.

Hui jogged to keep up. He shivered again as a cold wind blew. The man didn’t notice, striding along the same as ever. “Elder Brother, what’s your name?”

“Gu Tian. But you know that, Xie Hao,” he replied, smiling.