The Sixth Illustration: Other Candidate "Persons"

Sangsang logged into the StarNet, her consciousness entering her personal space.

A virtual reality island floated amidst the starry sky, its four corners each representing a different season, the scenery breathtaking—a paradise for sketch artists. Sangsang appeared inside the island’s sole structure, a mobile castle. Through the transparent dome, she watched the whirling vortex of stars overhead, at whose center stood Xiaojin’s digital avatar.

“Black Butterfly, help me search for information about purification.”

Black Butterfly materialized before her, light screens unfurling from beneath her wings, images and text flickering rapidly across them.

“Sangsang, you’re online! Want to go explore outside? There’s so much more here than the Galaxy StarNet—much livelier,” Xiaojin’s avatar descended through the dome to Sangsang’s side, crowned in white jade, long black hair cascading to his ankles, clad in a pale blue flowing robe, a jade bamboo flute at his waist. He drifted down, his robes fluttering, exuding the aura of an immortal.

“No rush, I’ll wander later.” Sangsang skimmed the information on the screen at lightning speed, then tapped to the side, conjuring several plates of snacks onto the table: dried fish, smoked fish fillets, fruit cake, sugar balls, and more.

Xiaojin picked up a piece of dried fish and muttered, “I’m not the Celestial Emperor, I don’t eat sweets.”

Sangsang glanced at him with a smile. “You changed your appearance again?”

Xiaojin lifted his chin. “People here have no manners, and the AIs are all too nosy. This outfit is inspired by the immortals of ancient Hua Xia legends from the Galaxy—let’s see who’s really the native around here.”

“Relatively speaking, I am a native of the Galaxy. Why bother with them? Once my strength is higher, no one will dare say anything.” Sangsang brushed a strand of hair from his temple. “Such a handsome Xiaojin—what a waste to let them see you for free.”

Xiaojin’s eyes sparkled with a soul-stealing charm as he smiled. “Handsome, right? I adjusted based on the top ten beauties in Temple history—kept a natural temperament, made the features even more refined to match local aesthetics. Outside, I can get loads of info for free just on looks. About purification—the librarian gave me his private collection, more complete than Black Butterfly’s database. I’ve sent it all to you.”

“You’re amazing, Xiaojin.” Sangsang stood on tiptoe to touch his forehead. No matter how ethereal he seemed, in her heart, Xiaojin would always be the precious little one she could cradle in her palm.

Xiaojin unconsciously nuzzled against her palm, mumbling, “It’s a pity we still can’t reach the Celestial Emperor.”

“The Temple forbids minors from accessing the full StarNet—lowest-level permissions are only available to those over thirty. But when we arrived, Grandpa Anthony had someone set up a dedicated StarNet line from Galaxy civilization to the Temple. It’s just not open yet.” Sangsang sighed. “Let’s hope the Celestial Emperor behaves on the way.”

Xiaojin shook his head. “Unlikely. I checked the route—they’ll pass through civilizations obsessed with martial prowess, and he loves challenging opponents.”

“Grandpa Anthony left the Chief Knight behind. As long as the Celestial Emperor only issues challenges, it should be fine. But if he absorbs someone else’s star core… The Temple doesn’t condone that—unless it’s a duel to the death, absorbing another’s core means facing the Tribunal. Luckily, he hasn’t joined the Temple yet.” Sangsang fed Xiaojin another piece of fish, pushing the tail in with her finger. “Let’s not talk about him anymore—worrying does no good. The training hall is in the academy district. I’ll take Black Butterfly. Can you look up special constitutions for me at home?”

Xiaojin nodded instinctively, then, chewing his dried fish, spoke fifty percent faster, “The living room door has the training hall’s teleport coordinates. Ignore the merfolk if you see them, and come home soon.”

“All right.”

The academy district was next to the Sprout District, home not only to the primary, junior, and senior divisions of the Temple’s Divine Academy, but also the Temple branch of the Star Knight Academy, making it one of the liveliest areas of the Temple.

Stepping out of the teleport point, Sangsang was momentarily dazed by the bustling “crowd” before her.

“Move aside up front!”

With a shrill voice, a tentacle slid past; Sangsang sidestepped. It was an octopus-person, two meters tall standing upright, eight splayed tentacles occupying a ten-meter radius, pink rings and spots flashing across their body.

“Don’t block the way.” As the octopus-person passed, a horned serpent-person slithered out, followed by a flurry of bird-people swooping overhead.

In the square, most humanoids bore animal traits. The largest stood ten meters tall; the smallest were the size of bees. True humans were a minority.

It was like stepping into an exotic zoo.

Sangsang thought to herself as she followed Black Butterfly into the training hall’s lobby, where the crowd thinned. Most gathered in small groups, the species boundaries distinct. One group of treefolk from the Everlife Wood Tribe caught Sangsang’s eye—their vine hair reminded her of Green Sprout.

“There’s a stranger of our kind—stop right there,” called a towering treefolk behind the group, his hand transforming into a vine that snaked toward Sangsang’s ankle.

Sangsang shifted to the side using a spatial node, the vine missing its mark.

“Ninth Uncle, she’s a candidate for Saintess, too,” piped up a small treefolk in the center, voice soft, scurrying over to Sangsang, the vines atop her head writhing like snakes, green eyes shimmering with watery light, smiling brightly. “Sister, have you seen a tree as cute as me?”

Sangsang looked into her eyes, and after a moment, flipped her hand to produce a wreath woven of fresh green vines. “Are you asking about this?”

The little treefolk’s eyes sparkled even more. She buried her nose in the wreath, sniffing deeply, then nodded. “Yes, yes! A little sister wove this from her own fallen hair—it carries her blessing, it feels so close, she must really like you.”

“She’s adorable—I like her too.” Sangsang put the wreath away. Seeing the little one’s disappointment, she explained, “Sorry, I can’t give it to you.”

The little treefolk tilted her head, pouting. “I didn’t want it anyway. But my little sister’s scent is so far away, I can’t sense her. Isn’t she with you?”

“Not right now. When she arrives, I’ll tell her there’s a young lady who wants to meet.”

“Thank you, Sister.” The little treefolk summoned all her strength, sending a leaf drifting from her crown to Sangsang. “My name is Chiya—backup Saintess candidate from the Everlife Wood Tribe, two hundred and twenty-five years old. That’s my calling card—keep in touch!”

Sangsang accepted the leaf, thought for a moment, then selected a healing art card, “Green Sprout in the Morning Light,” and handed it to Chiya. “My name is Sang Hongye. This is for you—I hope you’ll like it.”

“Sang Hongye? You’re the one… ah!” Chiya gasped, blinking, then playfully stuck out her tongue. Seeing the card’s image of tender green leaves reaching for the sun, she gleefully rubbed her face against it, then darted behind the tall treefolk, peeking out. “I love sunlight, I love it so much—thank you, Sister. No, thank you, Little Sister, you’re younger than just the last digit of my age!”

Sangsang, amused by the child’s five- or six-year-old appearance, smiled and nodded to the treefolk, then turned away. After a few steps, she encountered a group of merfolk. Their leader, a golden-haired mermaid, was staring at her, her beautiful face cold, expression complicated.

“At twenty, you’re already old—truly a native from the wild star regions,” came a mocking whisper from within the merfolk group, its source unclear.

Sangsang lowered her eyes, her gaze darkening, but pretended not to hear. She skirted around the merfolk and entered the purification trial zone.

“What do you mean, twenty? Primitive civilizations use planet years—by our reckoning, she’s only two. To be that big at two, she must have progeria. She’ll probably die of old age just as we reach adulthood.”

“Don’t mock her—it’s not her fault she was born in a primitive civilization. She worked so hard to get here; if her purification results are good, her lifespan could match that of advanced civilizations. She won’t die young.”

“She’d need to reach fifteen times to match advanced civilizations. Her body’s already so mature, can she even reach five times? Even Bronwyn only managed thirteen.”

“Maybe she’ll hit six, since Lord Anthony brought her back.”

“Ha! Not even a single attendant—she’s clearly valued, isn’t she?”

The muttered voices behind her finally faded as Sangsang entered Room Three.