Chapter 17: Purpose

“You can give me power? Stronger than Yang Yufei’s?”
Yi Ke feigned wavering—couldn’t leave under Jade Dust’s eyes—stall, then find a way.
“Naturally. I never shortchange talent.”
Jade Dust’s face eased.
“Yang Yufei was ordinary—I made her an ability user.” Jade Dust pocketed Spirit Tide jade, proud. “You’re already one—serve me and I promise—you’ll be the strongest human ability user alive.”
Immortal from the moon—good at painting pies.
“Strongest human? No.” Arms crossed—buy time. “Why can’t I have power to rival immortals?”
Bai Yanci said moon immortals excelled at barriers.
She’d learned a trick or two from Bai Yanci—only surface—no crack in this seal.
No crack—no hostility yet—might as well fish intel from Jade Dust.
Brow arched: “You want me in your gang—tell me your goal at least?”
“Simple. Gather enough spiritual flame. Overthrow unfair immortal order.” Jade Dust generous with key intel. “I don’t mean to manufacture ability users—recycle enough pure flame to mend the artifact.”
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From Jade Dust’s story she pieced the frame.
Years ago—a great war in the immortal realm—moon palace hit first—shock shook Spirit Tide jade—lost a crucial corner.
Flawed jade—couldn’t guard Spirit Tide Pool. Pool water flooded the moon palace—even spilled into the realm—immortal power ran wild—hurt without distinction.
One of the four great immortals—by the ruler’s order—offered life and soul to mend the jade—pool calm again.
After that—only three great immortals beside the ruler.
The sacrificed one—soul scattered to the four seas—only a sliver of consciousness fused into Spirit Tide jade.
Jade mended—moon disaster stopped—but power leaked. Only the purest flame could fill the gap.
Moon immortals raised without strong emotion—none could bear pure flame.
So Jade Dust took Spirit Tide jade to the mortal world—seek repair.
Jade Dust cold laugh: “They have obsession—use my power for ability—feed their greed. I collect their flame—win-win trade.”
“Then why experiment on ordinary people—force them to become ability users?” More doubt. “Want strong flame—why not born ability users directly?”
Qiming had plenty of naturals—still risked failed experiments tempting ordinary people.
Success hinged on the bracelet-shaped tool.
It wired subject flame to body—endless charge—endless power.
Endless power—overdraft on life. Sounds easy—failure rate sky-high.
To her—not modification but a precise graft—a graft ritual. Needed Jade Dust’s power to bind life and flame.
“Ordinary people obsess harder than ability users—more efficient collection. Why do the thankless work?”
Jade Dust spread arms—eyes near mad: “As for defective subjects—dying for the moon’s great cause—is dying with purpose.”
Light words—truth heavier.
Taking flame sounded simple. Jade Dust’s condition—purest flame at peak emotion—strip at strongest moment—like digging heart blood. Fragile human bodies—how bear it?
Everyone Jade Dust took flame from—died.
Truth—hate rose wave on wave. Eyes on red robes—through gritted teeth: “This is fraud start to finish!”
“Mutual use—what fraud?” Playful look—immortal power in palm. “So you won’t stand with us.”
“As long as I breathe—never!”
Even if she faked yes—Jade Dust would force her another way.
Knew she couldn’t win—search again for barrier gap—escape the library.
Jade Dust saw the small move—far stronger—no chance—light lift—palm flowing power—one strike slammed her to the wall!
Blood—vision swam—Jade Dust walked closer, looking down: “Good mood today—last chance. Think it over—come to Qiming alone.”
Hand waved—library barrier down. Order: “Throw her out.”
Qiming people dumped her in snow.
Cold. Very cold.
Jade Dust hadn’t killed—but old wounds, new hit—no strength to rise.
Vision blurring—Bai Yanci’s cool face sudden in mind.
“Sister…” Hand forward—dream-murmur. “I want to see you… can’t go back to you anymore…”
Last flicker of consciousness—white-robed woman running like an immortal—familiar rose scent.
Then—warm arms.
Bai Yanci? Dream?
Maybe dying—so sweet a dream.
But real—Bai Yanci held her tight—and a voice buried endless pain: “Ke-ke, I regret it… I really regret it.”
Sister—regret what? Why pain? What happened while she was at Qiming?
Wanted to hug her—easy words to comfort—no strength left.
Black—out completely.
Back at the apartment she woke many times—different hours each time.
Look up—Bai Yanci always there—meticulous—never left her side.
In broken dreams—Wangshu Orphanage again.
This time observer—the day Mu Wenxin came to adopt her.
Mu didn’t see the director first—found Yang Yufei: “Vice-Director Yang—Yi Ke’s talent exceeds normal. By rules I take her to the Ability Bureau.”
“Good child—pitiful origin.” Yang Yufei seemed reluctant—quick joy. “Director Mu—treat her well after—no more suffering.”
Mu’s usual false smile: “Rest assured, Director Yang. Gifted—I'll raise her myself—adopt as foster daughter.”
Yang Yufei relieved—thick file to Mu: “Director Mu—all her records.”
She followed close—read the file.
Parents’ line—both died in car crash. No memory of them—as if never met.
Then small print: Danger rating: SSS
Danger rating? What meant?
Mu only glanced—closed file, smile: “Vice-Director Yang’s thoughtful. Another suitable candidate—contact me soon.”
Scene shift—Ability Bureau again.
Mu found her—said she was sick—needed treatment. Naive—led to lab—heavy sedative—knew nothing.
Mu to the table—cruel smile—eyes like admiring fine art: “Yi Ke—perfect specimen. Your soul born defective—filled by a fragment of a fallen god’s soul—power beyond ability users.”
Greed naked: “Heaven’s favor. Get your power—I take the bureau’s highest seat!”
Woke sharp—forehead cold sweat.
That was Mu’s plan?
Years of ability research—drugs—surgeries—all studying her flame and soul?
“You’re awake?” Bai Yanci careful wiped sweat, soft: “How do you feel? Better?”
Familiar voice—familiar face—sour and moved together—threw herself into Bai Yanci’s arms.
Voice crying—child again: “Sister—I thought I’d never see you again…”
Bai Yanci helpless—hands didn’t know where to go. Long while—found the place—light pat on her back.
“It’s okay Ke-ke—all past.” Ear low: “I’m here now. While I’m beside you—no one hurts you.”
She looked where Jade Dust struck—wounds healed—no discomfort.
More bitter—tears poured: “You spent power on me again…”
Power wasn’t windfall—real cultivation.
Her injuries weren’t light—even Bai Yanci’s healing cost cultivation—needed rest to recover.
“Fine—compared to you throwing your life away with flame—little cost.” Annoyed. “Saving you cost a lot. If you have conscience—let me keep recuperating here.”