The next morning, Han Yu stood in Li Mei’s alchemy chamber, staring nervously at the small, green pill that sat innocently in a jade dish. It glowed faintly, pulsing like it had opinions about things.
"This is the ’Thunder Tofu,’" Li Mei said, eyes gleaming behind her spectacles. "It might... alter your voice for a short while."
"How short?" Han Yu asked.
Li Mei shrugged. "Three hours. Or three days. Maybe longer if your vocal meridians get entangled."
Han Yu considered backing out.
But then he remembered the thousands of merit points needed just for one Reverse Bloodfruit. The cost of the Jade Heart Silk. The fact that one of the ingredients he needed had to be bought from a black market.
He swallowed the pill.
At first, nothing happened.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
Except he hadn’t meant to scream.
And the voice wasn’t coming from his mouth.
The scream echoed directly into the minds of every Outer Court disciple within a two-hundred-meter radius.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"IS THE SECT UNDER ATTACK?!"
"NO, THAT VOICE! IT’S HAN YU AGAIN!"
Dozens of disciples stumbled out of their dorms, hands clutching their heads, eyes wide.
Han Yu, meanwhile, began running in a panic—but every time he tried to call out for help, his words bypassed his mouth and shot straight into people’s minds.
"IT’S A SIDE EFFECT!"
Unfortunately, most people did assume he was possessed, which led to a group of cultivators chasing him with talismans, ropes, and one guy wielding a frying pan.
Han Yu ended up climbing a peach tree and waving a sock as a flag of surrender.
By the time Li Mei found him, he was halfway into a bird’s nest, whispering apologies to three very disturbed sparrows.
"Well," she said, observing the situation calmly, "we’ve confirmed the ’mental echo’ property works."
Han Yu glared at her. Mentally, of course.
Back in his room, Han Yu grinned as he meditated.
Violet mist curled inside his Soul Core now—Fear.
’They were terrified of me.’
Alongside it were waves of Grey Surprise and a generous helping of Dark Blue Sadness from those who pitied his cursed fate.
"Almost too easy..." he murmured.
The next pill came the day after: the Singing Vine Pellet.
"This one may cause spontaneous musical outbursts," Li Mei warned as she handed it over. "Try not to explode."
"Why would I explode!?"
"It’s just a saying, a metaphor if you must."
It was not just a saying nor a metaphor.
Ten minutes after ingestion, Han Yu was standing on top of the lecture hall roof, arms spread wide, singing a heartfelt opera in perfect pitch about the tragic death of his dignity.
"♫ Oh cultivators far and wiiiiide~ ♪I have swallowed things I cannot hiiiiide~My soul is trembling from inside~And my pants just caught on fiiiiiiire~ ♫"
Below him, disciples laughed so hard several fell over. Some recorded the scene with memory jade slips.
"I CAN’T—HE’S GOT BARS!!"
"Where did he even get that backup choir?!"
"I think those are geese."
By the time Han Yu collapsed in a heap of exhausted, musically possessed glory, he was glowing with the vibrant mist of Joy, Surprise, and—thanks to his ballad’s tragic backstory—Sadness.
Later that night, as he rested under a calming formation Li Mei placed to "stabilize your musical organs," he looked at the growing swirl of Eight Emotions Energy in his Soul Core.
Yellow. Grey. Blue. Violet.
One by one, he was collecting them.
He needed all of them anyways.
It was dangerous. It was degrading. But it was working.
On the fourth day, Li Mei gave him something truly unsettling.
"This is the Mirrordew Capsule. It might cause temporary duplication. In theory."
"...You mean I might get clones of myself?"
"Possibly though just illusory."
For ten glorious—and horrifying—minutes, there were five Han Yus running around the Outer Sect.
One tried to pick a fight with a statue of the Sect Ancestor. Another tried to woo a confused goose. A third attempted to eat a wall scroll, declaring it "looked philosophical."
The real Han Yu chased after them all, yelling hoarsely, "THEY’RE NOT ME! I’M THE REAL ONE! STOP KISSING THAT PILLAR!"
The disciples, of course, were in tears laughing.
"FIVE OF HIM?! WE CAN’T HANDLE THIS!"
Even the usually stoic Elder Qing was spotted chuckling quietly behind a fan.
By the end of the week, Han Yu’s spiritual sea had thickened. His Qi cultivation had risen noticeably—inch by agonizing inch. More importantly, his Soul Core now swirled with four full hues:
He only needed more of Red Anger, Green Trust Love, Indigo Disgust, and Orange Anticipation.
In this testing and abosopriton though he realized another thing.
While there were just Eight Emotions energy, there were actually multiple aspects to it that he was understanding it now. For example, the Eight Emotions energy of Trust didn’t just come in the emotion of trust. Love, and Faith for example also fell under it and were part of it.
The same could be said for Terror which came under fear, or Depression which came under sadness.
One could saw they were the varying shades of each emotion, slightly changing in color.
’So while there are more emotions they all join together.’ Han Yu was intrigued by this as he laid on the bed, pondering on his Soul Core.
It was a good discovery for him as he improved.
And with each test he undertook, he got stronger. He got closer.
Soon, he would have what he needed—for the mission, for the Fireborn Beast, and for the Undying Life Charm.
He glanced at the glowing pill Li Mei was preparing next. It hissed slightly.
"I call this one the Gravity Gumball," she said cheerfully.