129: The spirit of nature descends.

The green light vanished, and his feet touched the ground.

Shen Xiaochuan steadied himself; before him was no longer the forest and lake, but a white hall.

There were long, rectangular lights on the ceiling, metal cabinets against the walls, and stretchers and empty medicine bottles scattered on the floor.

In the distance, machines were making rapid "beep-beep" sounds.

He looked down at the back of his hand; his faith points were still rising: +1, +1, +1... The numbers kept climbing.

But he knew these points were useless for now.

"We're here," he said to Qiao Yao. "This is the main building of the Skydome City battlefield Hospital; the wounded are on the three floors below."

Qiao Yao didn't speak.

She stood barefoot on the floor, her brows furrowed.

Her white clothes fluttered in the wind, and her hair hung over her shoulders.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Shen Xiaochuan asked.

"This place makes me feel terrible," Qiao Yao said softly. "The ground is too hard, and there is no Life Qi. The walls are bare, as if there is nothing here at all."

"It's made of concrete," Shen Xiaochuan explained. "Houses in the city are all like this."

She nodded and took a step forward.

As soon as she stepped forward, an alarm suddenly blared overhead!

Red lights rotated, metal doors slid out from both sides, and with a click, they sealed the exit.

Several black tubes popped out from the walls, aiming at them and emitting a low, humming sound.

"Unknown high-energy lifeform detected!" a mechanical voice came from the broadcast. "Initiating Level 3 defense protocol. Please do not move."

Shen Xiaochuan immediately reached for the terminal at his waist—that was the administrator key Anna had given him.

He quickly entered the command, and a red prompt popped up on the screen: "Confirm release of AI lockdown? S-rank deity authorization required."

He pressed his fingerprint, and the verification passed.

Just as he was about to click confirm, he heard a soft sound.

Looking up, he saw Qiao Yao raise her right hand.

A speck of green light drifted from her fingertips, slowly flying toward the metal door frame.

When the green light touched the steel, it spread rapidly, like water seeping into soil.

The cold alloy began to change; patterns spread like tree roots, and vines and leaves grew on the surface. The entire door transformed into a giant iron flower, its petals opening to reveal a passageway.

Shen Xiaochuan was stunned.

"It didn't want to let me pass," she said. "So I made it willing."

He put away the terminal, saying nothing more.

"Let's go, the people are downstairs."

The two passed through the flower-shaped doorway and entered the elevator shaft.

Shen Xiaochuan pressed the button for the first floor, and the elevator slowly descended.

On the way, he stole a glance at Qiao Yao.

She was looking at the floor display with curious eyes.

"Is that flickering light a heartbeat?" she suddenly asked.

"No," Shen Xiaochuan answered with a smile. "That's a signal light to tell us which floor the elevator is on."

"So that's how it is," she nodded. "Do you use light to transmit information?"

"You could say that. Red light means stop, green light means go."

She thought for a moment and said, "Your eyes must be very tired then."

The elevator arrived, and the doors opened.

It was chaotic outside: the corridor was crowded with Hospital beds, some covered with white sheets; medical staff ran back and forth with heavy footsteps; in a corner, a child sat on a small stool, hugging their knees and saying nothing.

The air smelled of disinfectant and blood.

"The critically injured are in Area B on the second basement level," Shen Xiaochuan said, leading her inside. "Many people have been locked away for over three years; their bodies have held on, but their souls have scattered. The Goddess of Light Church said they couldn't be saved, so we have to rely on you."

Qiao Yao listened and continued walking forward.

When they reached the stairs, she stopped.

"I can feel them," she said. "It sounds like the wind blowing through withered branches."

She walked down step by step.

Every time she stepped on a stair, a speck of green light lit up beneath her feet.

By the time she reached the entrance to Area B, tiny vine buds had already grown on the stair railing, twining into green ribbons.

Pushing open the heavy door, it was very dark inside.

Hundreds of beds were arranged neatly, with a person lying on each one.

Ventilators rose and fell, and heart rate monitors emitted rhythmic beeping sounds.

But most people had gray complexions and sunken eyes, as if they had slept too long and forgotten how to wake up.

Qiao Yao stood at the doorway and closed her eyes.

After a while, she crouched down and pressed her hands to the ground.

A wave of green light spread from her palms, fanning out along the floor like roots digging into the soil, quickly covering the entire area.

Wherever it passed, equipment alarms rang out one after another—not because of danger, but because vital signs were recovering!

"Heart rate rising! 82, 86, 90!" a nurse exclaimed.

"Blood pressure normal! Body temperature rising!"

"Someone opened their eyes! Bed 37 is awake!"

More and more voices rose up.

The once quiet place became lively.

Some coughed, some turned over, and some looked blankly at the ceiling, as if seeing the world for the first time.

But soon, a problem arose.

On a dozen beds near the west side, the patients suddenly convulsed, their heart rates plummeted, and the monitors emitted sharp, long beeps.

Doctors rushed up to resuscitate them, giving injections and performing chest compressions, but it was useless.

Shen Xiaochuan looked at Qiao Yao.

She kept her eyes closed, sweat on her forehead.

"They are resisting," she said softly. "Their bodies want to live, but their hearts do not recognize this path."

With one hand on the ground, she raised her other hand to her lips and began to sing softly.

It was that same wordless song.

The voice was not loud, like wind brushing over water, or leaves rubbing together.

Though small, it drowned out all other noises and crept into everyone's ears.

The green light pulsed with the song, in perfect rhythm.

Those struggling bodies slowly calmed down, their heartbeats grew strong again, and their breathing stabilized.

Five minutes later, the patients in the west area were all stable.

At ten minutes, the last person opened their eyes, looked upward, moved their lips, and said two words: "...Home."

The whole room was silent for a second, then erupted into crying and cheers.

Doctors hugged each other, nurses knelt and wept, and even Shen Xiaochuan felt a warmth in his heart.

He looked at Qiao Yao.

She stood up slowly, her face expressionless, and just let out a long breath.

"It's done," she said. "They are all awake."

"Thank you," Shen Xiaochuan said. "These people would have been gone otherwise."

She shook her head.

"I didn't come for you. I heard someone crying, so I came."

He didn't speak, just nodded.

"Can I see the outside?" she suddenly asked. "The city you mentioned."

"Of course," he said. "You can go wherever you want."

"I want to walk by myself," she said. "Can you leave me alone?"

Shen Xiaochuan paused, then nodded.

"Sure. But don't go too far; the machines in the city vent steam, so be careful not to get burned."

She smiled and turned to walk outside.

As she walked out of the treatment area, she reached out and touched the wall.

The concrete softened, moss crept out from her fingertips, and vines climbed up the walls, turning the cold, icy passageway into a small green path.

By the time she stepped onto the main street, plants had grown on the exterior walls of the buildings along the road, flower-covered branches wrapped around the lampposts, and even the exhaust vents were surrounded by ferns.

People on the street noticed the anomaly and stopped to watch.

Someone pointed at her retreating figure and asked, "Who is that?"

"I don't know, it seems she came with God Shen."

"Look at the walls she touched; they've all come to life."

"Shh, keep it down, she doesn't seem to like noise."

Qiao Yao walked forward, her steps becoming steadier and steadier.

At first, she walked slowly, as if getting used to the hard road.

Later, she sped up and even reached out to touch a parked steam truck by the roadside.

"Can this iron box run?" she asked the driver, turning her head.

"It... it can run," the driver stammered.

"By fire?"

"By burning coal, adding water, generating steam to push the pistons."

She nodded, as if she understood.

"So you've put the strength of the mountains inside."

She continued walking, passing a bakery.

The shop window glass reflected her—her white clothes clean, her hair flying, the street behind her growing greener, as if spring had arrived early.

Shen Xiaochuan stood on the top floor observation deck of the Hospital, watching her from afar.

The wind blew his work uniform sleeves, revealing a bronze Gear Pendant.

He didn't move, nor did he call her back.

He knew that some people don't need to follow others.

When they arrive, the road will bloom with flowers on its own.

Qiao Yao walked to an intersection and stopped.

Ahead was the commercial district, with neon lights flashing and streetcar tracks vibrating.

She frowned and raised her hand to press her temples.

Then she reached out and pressed her palm against the nearest signal pole.

A green halo appeared once more.