The golden wheat halo spun slowly behind Han Shan’s head, casting a warm amber glow over the damp dungeon walls.
White mountain orchids continued to bloom in rapid bursts along the stone cracks. The foul stench of sewage and stagnant water was completely replaced by the crisp, sweet scent of blooming wildflowers and sun-dried grain.
Old Master Mo stepped through the shattered dungeon doorway, leaning on his polished mahogany walking stick.
His eyes pulsed with sharp azure light as he activated his restored Heavenly Appraisal Eye. The ancient pupil rings rotated in opposite directions, reading the deepest spiritual ley lines etched into Han Shan’s skeleton.
He stared at the golden wheat-shaped runes dancing around Han Shan’s shoulders, his wrinkled hands trembling with excitement.
“Incredible,” Old Master Mo murmured, adjusting his silver-rimmed spectacles. “Truly incredible. For twenty years, the Jade-Plough Sect called this boy a trash five-element root because his meridians couldn’t condense sharp, offensive sword-qi. They treated a living celestial treasure like common gravel.”
“What is his actual constitution, Old Master Mo?” Lin Mo asked, stepping out of the receding puddle and straightening his necktie.
“This is the Innate Shennong Earth-Pulse Physique,” Old Master Mo declared, his voice echoing through the stone vault with profound reverence. “It is an ancient, supreme agricultural constitution recorded in the prehistoric pharmacopeia scrolls. In the primeval era, the Great Emperor Shennong tasted a hundred herbs and bled his own veins into the barren soil to save mankind from the great famine. This constitution only…
