Huaishu sat cross-legged on the ground.
Lan Qi worked swiftly, extracting the joy and sealing it into a glass vial.
The powder inside shimmered with golden light.
Liu Shan lay twitching on the floor, his blue robe damp with cold sweat. His once meticulously combed hair lay disheveled, dust and flower petals clinging to strands. His face was deathly pale.
"Therefore, the Cloth Shop cannot refuse customer orders." Huai Xu gazed at the prone Liu Shan, his expression a mix of concern and wariness. "Refusal invites punishment."
"Not only that." Lan Qi's voice was icy as she pressed the glass vial into his hand. The powder glowed golden, warm to the touch. "It will also force you to tear apart what you cherish most with your own hands. This time it strips away joy. Next time, the pain will be worse."
"Only you and I can see the characters in the Flower Spectrum?" Huai Xu gripped the glass bottle, lifting his gaze to meet hers.
"Yes." Lan Qi stared at Liu Shan, her eyes holding the detached indifference of life and death cycles. "Once bound by the Spectrum, it becomes a debt. No one can change that."
"There's another rule in the Dream Continent: you must never ask 'Who am I?'" With that, she dissolved into a streak of light and vanished from the workshop.
The instant the light faded, Huai Xu's chest clenched in agony. He spat a mouthful of blood, splattering it onto the petals scattered on the floor.
He opened his palm, and the Huai Bone Blade slowly rose from his palm.
The blade glowed with a cold, black-gold light. Within the patterns on the hilt, a single flower shimmered faintly.
"As long as we live, we have a chance to return," Huai Xu murmured, running his fingers along the hilt.
Clang—
The wooden door was violently pushed open, sending petals swirling across the floor.
Startled, Liu Shan scrambled to her feet, gathering her disheveled hair and straightening her back, striving to appear composed.
Yet, having lost the body that once held joy, even an upright posture couldn't conceal the underlying disarray.
At the doorway stood a woman, around twenty-four or twenty-five. Her jet-black hair was neatly styled, her skin fair, her features delicate and beautiful.
She looked at Liu Shan, visibly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I only gave it a gentle push just now."
Hua Xu looked up. The figure felt intensely familiar, like a shadow from the depths of memory. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't place her.
"Auntie said you're at the Cloth Shop. She wants you to come home for lunch," the woman said, her voice sweet but her gaze distant.
Hua Xu turned to Liu Shan, but Liu Shan's gaze was fixed on the blood Hua Xu had coughed up on the ground.
"Brother Hua, did you get into a fight? Why is there blood everywhere?" He hurried over, checking Hua Xu's body. "How did I fall asleep during the fight? Why didn't you wake me?"
Liu Shan's movements were frantic, as if deliberately concealing something.
"Nothing. Just lost control chasing a shadow earlier. Got too worked up." Huai Xu pointed at the woman standing outside the door. "Did she call me back for lunch, or did she call you back?"
Only then did Liu Shan glance toward the doorway, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Xuejian, why are you here?"
"To call Huixu back for lunch." Xuejian rolled her eyes, her tone sharp.
The next moment, her voice softened. "Auntie called you too. Come with Huixu. I'm heading back to help. Remember, no dawdling."
Huaishu watched Xuejian's figure disappear around the alley corner. "Who exactly is this woman to me?"
"Your fiancée," Liu Shan answered instantly, though his eyes avoided Huaishu's gaze.
He paused, clutching his chest. "Brother Huaishu, I feel... off. Before, seeing these spirit garments always made me happy. But after sleeping, why can't I feel that joy anymore?"
Hua Xu dared not reveal the truth.
When Lan Qi had stripped away his joy earlier, Hua Xu's heart had been scraped raw—it hurt terribly.
The golden powder nestled in his embrace felt warm and heavy.
The spirit garments before him were produced with meticulous precision: cutting, manufacturing, ironing, packaging, and delivery—a fully modern, mature operation. "Did you devise all these operational models?"
"It just came naturally." Liu Shan's gaze was distant as he traced the patterns on a finished garment on the ironing table. "But the idea to weave the spirit thread into the garments—that was yours."
"I seem to recall something. In that world, you told me we needed our own brand identity for the business to endure." Liu Shan looked at him, her expression slowly growing complex.
Hua Xu's heart sank abruptly. That world? Reality?!
Back then, debts, returns, and refunds had everyone gasping for air. Little Liu had been the same—confused, yet strangely confident.
He sighed, picking up the black cloth from the long table. "How many spirit stones did you borrow?"
Liu Shan's shoulders instantly slumped. His hands instinctively smoothed his collar. "Brother Huai, why ask? We can pay it back. We absolutely can."
He maintained his polished facade, repeating himself.
"Repayment requires knowing the amount owed," Huaixu insisted, leaving no room for evasion.
Liu Shan remained silent for a long while. Huaixu sat across from him, his gaze fixed.
Finally, Liu Shan lifted his head, eyes glistening. His voice carried profound exhaustion and despair.
"It started with a hundred thousand spirit stones. Then the interest piled up. When I couldn't pay, I borrowed more... over and over. I don't even know how much I owe now."
This reminded Huai Xu of Little Liu. Little Liu had been the same—running around trying to keep the factory afloat, borrowing money everywhere. And in the end... what happened to him? Why couldn't he remember?
Hua Xu tapped his temple, trying to knock away the foggy film clouding his mind.
Clang—
The door slammed hard against the wall once more.
A mocking male voice echoed, "Then let me do the math for you!"
Huaishu spun around abruptly.
At the doorway stood a man wearing a half-mask, clad in a dark-colored robe. The patterns on his spiritual garment shimmered with iridescent light, and his almond-shaped eyes gazed coldly at them.
Behind him trailed a horde of indescribable monsters.
Their gaping mouths bristled with fangs, tongues dripping barbed saliva that left wisps of green smoke on the floor.
He strode into the workshop, seated himself at the long table with effortless grace, and opened his palm. A palm-sized piece of glass materialized in midair.
"I hear from Shizhu that you've repaid your debt with spirit stones?" His slender fingers traced the glass lightly, projecting a lengthy ledger into the air.
The densely packed numbers sent a chill down one's spine.
His hand paused at the final line. "Seems you're quite overdue. How much will you repay today? Hmm?"
Hua Xu stared at the astronomical figures, his heart sinking to his feet.
Repayment was utterly impossible.
Unless...
As he pondered, Liu Shan suddenly stepped forward, standing ramrod straight. Though disheveled and clad in rags, he lifted his chin defiantly, maintaining his dignity. "I owe what I owe. I can't repay it. What do you want?"
The man chuckled as if amused by a joke, his fingertip pointing at the list in the void. A line of blood-red text slowly materialized:
[Debt Settlement Rules of Fanmengzhou:]
[1. Repay with spirit stones. Any shortfall shall be offset by attachments.]
[2. Attachments may be chosen—joy, memories, bonds, or any object you are most reluctant to relinquish.]
[3. Refuse settlement? Obliteration. Soul returns to the Abyss.]
"The thing I care about most?" Liu Shan's body shuddered coldly, his face instantly turning deathly pale.
"Indeed." The man appraised Liu Shan from head to toe. "Isn't what Liu Manager is most famous for in Fanmengzhou that dignity carved into your very bones?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a crimson beam shot from the crystal glass, striking Liu Shan directly.
A piercing scream erupted from Liu Shan as his body convulsed uncontrollably.
He desperately tried to cover his face, smooth his disheveled hair, and adjust his crooked collar—yet every effort seemed futile.
Within the crimson light, scenes from Liu Shan's past were forcibly stripped away, projected into the void:
In reality, to scrape together money for debt repayment, he hid in his room, making countless humiliating phone calls. A lifelong non-smoker, he now had a mountain of cigarette ash piled up.
He begged and pleaded, only to be met with indifference and threats from debt collectors.
In the realm of Fanmengzhou, to preserve the purity of his spirit garments and avoid contamination by resentment, he refused orders tainted by malevolent intent. Eventually, unable to sustain himself, he took out his first spirit stone loan.
He dug himself out of one pit only to fall into another.
Despite Shi Zhu's harassment, the collectors' threats, and brutal beatings, he remained strong and composed. Only when alone would he retreat to a corner of the workshop, weeping bitterly.
His meticulous, unflappable demeanor during every meeting—polished and impeccable—was the fortitude forged through countless moments of utter defeat.
Those desperate, hidden fragments—the most shameful, humiliating past he'd fought to conceal—were laid bare before the very person who mattered most.
"No... don't look." He covered his eyes, kneeling before the masked man, pleading. "Turn it off! Turn it all off!"
The man only laughed more heartily: "Dignity? Ha! Nothing but a cheap comfort to your ego. Mr. Liu, the very thing you cling to so desperately, the thing you care about above all else—to me, it's worthless."
He raised his hand, his fingertip tracing the glass once more.
The list in the air suddenly flickered and danced. Every word broke apart, reassembling into a single line of despairingly cold words:
[Golden Sea Silver House Debt Settlement: Settle debts with the dignity of Chinese redwood; remaining debts shall be settled with one's life.]
No! Huai Xu's eyes bulged with fury. He opened his palm, gripped the Huai Bone Blade, and charged forward.