The rain began to ease at 4 a.m. Lin Ye stood at the entrance of the "Rusty Iron Tavern", watching the taillights of Chen Zhuo's car vanish around the corner. He lowered his gaze to his wrist—dark golden spiritual patterns glowed faintly in the dawn, like a dying flame suddenly fanned back to life. The tiny spark that had nearly been extinguished surged up, condensing into a coin-sized fireball in his palm.
"So this is... possible."
He murmured softly, but the fireball in his fingertips suddenly trembled violently, "pop"—exploding into sparks that landed on the bluestone pavement, burning small charred pits. Lin Ye staggered back, knocking over an empty wine barrel in the corner. Wine mixed with rainwater spilled across the ground, reflecting his pale face—this body, deemed "spiritually vein-disabled," could barely control even the most basic fire.
"Need help?"
A sweet voice came from the alley. Lin Ye looked up to see a girl with a high ponytail crouching by the wall, prodding a drenched calico cat with a twig. She wore a faded denim jacket, and a string of bronze bells hung from her backpack, jingling with every step. What drew the most attention was the light cyan pattern at the nape of her neck—shaped like a curled ginkgo leaf.
"I... I'm fine." Lin Ye tugged at his sleeve to cover his wrist, turning to leave.
"Wait!" The girl suddenly ran over, her fingertips touching the bandage on his wrist. "Your spiritual patterns are throbbing, right? I can feel it."
Lin Ye went rigid. After the spiritual vein surge accident three years ago, his patterns had become a taboo. No one except Chen Zhuo and Su Tang had ever dared to touch him like this. But the girl seemed unaware of his resistance, pulling a leather bracelet from her bag, engraved with crooked talismans: "I'm Xiaotao, a street spiritual pattern apprentice. Last time I found a broken stone in a junkyard, and it somehow crawled into my bracelet—now I can make it glow!"
She waved her wrist, and the talismans on the bracelet suddenly glowed deep blue, forming a water mirror between them. In the mirror, Lin Ye's spiritual patterns—once dim—were brightening at a visible speed, as if infused with energy.
"Is this... resonance?" Xiaotao's eyes widened. "My 'Starmoon Meteorite' is responding to your patterns! I saw the news about the league finals three years ago—you're a 'Burning Heaven Flame Pattern' user, right? They said your spiritual veins were destroyed, but I don't believe it!"
Lin Ye stepped back, his back against the tavern's brick wall. For three years, he'd heard countless sighs of "you could have been", but this was the first time someone had so bluntly believed in him. Xiaotao's bracelet suddenly vibrated violently, and the Starmoon Meteorite's light pierced through the water mirror, casting a star map at Lin Ye's feet—the twinkling dots forming the trajectory of the "Fire Chain Restraint" tactic he'd used in the finals.
"This can't be..." he muttered.
"It is!" Xiaotao grabbed his hand, her warmth seeping through the bandage. "I grew up in the slums, learning by picking up spiritual pattern fragments. You said you want to form a team? I'll help you find people! I know a blacksmith named 'Old Jin'—his pattern is the 'Mysterious Iron Shield.' He can only bang on tin now, but he used to be a defensive star in the pro league! There's also a girl named Ajiu with a 'Shadow Raven Pattern' that can control shadows—she just beat three Class B fighters in the underground arena last month!"
Lin Ye looked into Xiaotao's shining eyes and suddenly remembered himself three years ago—equally passionate, charging into the spiritual competition world, believing hard work alone could reach the peak. Later he learned that spiritual veins were both a gift, a shackle, and a roll of fate's dice.
"Why help me?" he asked.
Xiaotao tilted her head and smiled: "Because the way you looked at that little flame just now was the same as how I look at the Starmoon Meteorite." She pointed to her chest. "Spiritual patterns aren't weapons—they're partners."
At 3 p.m., the three squeezed into Old Jin's workshop. Old Jin was a burly man in his fifties, wearing an iron ring made from a discarded spiritual pattern core on his left hand and a blood-stained bandage on his right—burned by spiritual energy while forging yesterday.
"Recommended by that kid Chen Zhuo?" Old Jin held an unlit cigarette, knocking his hammer on the anvil. "When he teamed up with you, he always said, 'Lin Ye's flames can burn through anything.' After your accident, he moped for half a year, getting drunk here every day."
Lin Ye clenched the hem of his shirt. On Old Jin's anvil lay a charred piece of metal, faintly inscribed with the emblem of the "Burning Heaven Hall"—a souvenir from the league finals three years ago, meant for the champion's podium.
"I want to try."
Old Jin suddenly stopped, his hammer crashing onto the anvil with a dull thud: "Your spiritual pattern concentration is only 0.3%. Even if you activate the core, it's just adding heat to ordinary fire." He rummaged through a drawer and took out an iron box. "These are spiritual pattern fragments I saved—scraps discarded by pro players. If you can absorb their energy, maybe you could..."
"Jingle—"
The workshop door opened, and Ajiu stepped in with a gust of cold air. She wore a black trench coat, her hair ends dyed dark purple, and a translucent shadow pattern at her nape, like a raven ready to pounce.
"Old Jin said there's a guest?" She scanned Lin Ye, her gaze lingering on the bandage on his wrist. "Burning Heaven Flame Pattern? I heard when it surges, it burns through spiritual veins like fire through paper toys."
Xiaotao immediately jumped up: "Ajiu, don't talk nonsense! Lin Ye's patterns are seeds, not trash!"
Ajiu raised an eyebrow, pulling a glass jar from her pocket. Inside, a writhing black shadow floated: "This is my Shadow Raven Pattern, which can devour other spiritual energy. If you really have residual power, I don't mind testing it." She shook the jar, and the shadow suddenly lunged, forming a raven shape before Lin Ye, its beak pecking at his wrist.
Lin Ye instinctively retreated, but the shadow coiled around his bandage like a living thing. Dark golden patterns emerged from the gaps, tangling with the shadow. Ajiu's pupils shrank—she clearly saw the shadow begin to glow faintly golden upon touching Lin Ye's patterns.
"This is impossible!" She staggered back, the jar crashing to the floor. The shadow dissipated with a "hiss". "Your patterns are devouring my Shadow Raven!"
Old Jin rushed over, grabbing Lin Ye's wrist. When the bandage was torn away, everyone gasped—dark golden patterns covered Lin Ye's entire arm, the once "atrophied" veins now writhing like living snakes across his skin to his fingertips.
"Spiritual patterns... are regenerating." Old Jin's voice trembled. "That surge three years ago wasn't vein damage—they were evolving!"
Lin Ye felt a warm current rush from his feet to his head. He raised his hand, and the flame at his fingertips no longer extinguished easily. Instead, it grew, forming a fire butterfly in the air that fluttered onto Xiaotao's Starmoon Meteorite. The stone immediately glowed blue, resonating and spinning with the flame.
"Look!" Xiaotao pointed out the window. "There's a reaction from the Spiritual Vein Resonance Chamber!"
They looked up, and through the dusty window, a column of golden light shot into the sky at the city's horizon—the symbol of the Spiritual Competition League, triggered only when top spiritual pattern users activate their cores, causing a "spiritual energy storm".
Lin Ye looked at his hand and smiled. For three years, he'd thought he was a castaway of fate. But now he understood: what he'd called a "useless vein" was merely his patterns accumulating power, waiting to resonate with new partners.
"Let's go." He said to Xiaotao and Ajiu. "To the Spiritual Vein Resonance Chamber. This time... I'll show everyone that the Burning Heaven Flame Pattern has never gone out."