Sunlight spilled through the gss, painting the room in hues of spring. Qin Hong rubbed his eyes and sat up, taking in the space around him. Though small, the room was meticulously decorated. A dark mahogany desk and a swiveling leather chair stood beneath twin windows, while the cream-colored walls bore a single painting—a pastoral scene of a countryside under a zy afternoon sun. Beneath a sprawling tree y a yellow dog, its head raised as if watching something unseen.
*What’s it looking at?*
Before he could ponder further, a voice startled him.
"Oh! You’re finally awake! Don’t move—I’ll fetch the others!"
A plump, bespectacled woman’s face popped into the lower corner of the painting, her cheeks rosy with good humor. Before Qin Hong could react, she vanished—only to reappear seconds ter, dragging the dog away with her.
*…What?*
He stared at the now-empty spot where the woman and dog had been.
*Alright. Guess ‘expect the unexpected’ is the theme here.*
Sighing, he y back down—then froze.
**Why wasn’t he in pain?**
Last night, he’d been one step from death. Broken ribs, blurred vision, blood choking his throat. Yet now, his body felt… fwless. He prodded his ribs. No ache. No fractures. Even the gashes on his face were gone.
And then he realized—
**He was naked.**
"My clothes!!" he yelped, scrambling to cover himself with the sheets.
The door swung open. Si Si strode in, followed by Xiao Yu. "I threw them out," Si Si said ftly.
"You—*what*?! Who undressed me?!"
Xiao Yu abruptly turned her head away, her ears tinged pink.
Si Si crossed her arms. "How else was I supposed to treat your injuries?" Her tone was clinical, but the faint smirk twisting her lips betrayed her amusement.
*This woman enjoyed this.*
Qin Hong’s eye twitched. "How long was I out?"
"Just a few hours," Xiao Yu muttered.
"That’s impossible! Broken bones take months to heal!"
Si Si shrugged. "Not for me."
Before Qin Hong could demand answers, Guān Lán stepped into the room, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. "That’s her ability."
Silence thickened the air. Qin Hong had a thousand questions—about the apple, the fire-wielding maniac, the *stars inside his stomach*—but Guān Lán’s presence stifled them all.
"Get him training clothes," Guān Lán ordered Si Si. "Then bring him to Fat Madam’s Garden."
Without another word, he left.
---
### **The Orange Nightmare**
The "training clothes" turned out to be a garish orange tracksuit with a blue undershirt. The pièce de résistance? A giant **观 (Guān)** character embzoned across the back, and a smaller one—apple-sized—stitched over the left breast.
Qin Hong held up the vest between two fingers, his face a masterpiece of disgust. "What *is* this?"
Si Si nodded solemnly. "The boss is a fan of *Dragon Ball*."
Xiao Yu, upon seeing him in the outfit, promptly doubled over ughing.
Si Si merely said, "It fits," before leading him down the hall.
---
### **The Living Painting**
At the corridor’s end loomed a five-meter-tall oil painting—a vibrant garden bursting with blossoms and dappled sunlight.
"Take my hand," Si Si said.
"Why?"
"Unless you want to *die* halfway through."
Grumbling, Qin Hong interced their fingers—
—and **Si Si’s breath hitched**.
Her pulse jumped beneath his grip. For a split second, her usual teasing faltered, repced by something unreadable. Behind them, Xiao Yu let out a sharp *hmph!* and stormed off.
*What’s her problem?*
Before he could dwell, Si Si tugged him forward. Her fingertips brushed the canvas—and the surface rippled like water.
They stepped **into the painting**.
---
### **The Truth Beneath the Blossoms**
Fat Madam’s Garden was a paradise of cherry trees and trickling streams. At its heart, beneath a striped parasol, sat Guān Lán and the plump woman from the painting—now life-sized—sipping tea. A suited man stood behind them, cradling the yellow dog.
"You’ve seen the impossible," Guān Lán began. "Still want the job?"
Qin Hong exhaled. "Honestly? No. But I need to know what’s happening. Or I’ll lose my damn mind."
Guān Lán studied him. "Once you know, there’s no leaving. Last night won’t be the worst of it."
"Then tell me: **who are you**?"
A pause. The wind stirred the petals around them.
"They call me Guān Lán. Apostle of **Green**, overseer of the East. The entrance you stumbled into? That’s our headquarters. There are two others—in Akaith and Philon."
"And your ‘organization’ does… what?"
"Collects **Fruits**." Guān Lán’s gaze sharpened. "Like the one you ate. They’re not food. They’re **tests**. Survive consuming one, and it grants a **Blessing**."
Qin Hong’s mind fshed to Bett’s fmes, Guān Lán’s lightning. "So I’m…?"
"Blessed. But we don’t know *how* yet." Guān Lán’s voice darkened. "Some gifts are curses in disguise."
Fat Madam’s smile faded.
"And if I’d refused to join?" Qin Hong asked.
Guān Lán met his eyes. "I’d have cut out your heart. The Fruit reforms inside it."
*Of course.* Qin Hong’s fingers twitched toward his chest. *Why is it always the damn heart?*
---
### **The Awakening**
They moved to a clearing. Guān Lán drew a silver dagger.
"Let’s see your Blessing. Can you activate it voluntarily?"
"How the hell would I—**AGH!**"
The bde **pierced his palm**, stopping a hair’s breadth from his eye. Blood dripped onto the grass.
Si Si groaned. "I *knew* he’d do this." She yanked the dagger out—earning another scream—then pressed her hand to the wound. Warmth flooded Qin Hong’s veins, knitting flesh seamlessly.
"Didn’t work for me either," Guān Lán mused.
Fat Madam tsked. "Not everyone awakens through pain, you brute."
Guān Lán leaned in, whispering words that turned Qin Hong’s shock to **rage**. His vision reddened. Veins bulged at his temples.
Then—
**A bde erupted from his wrist.**
Bck-purple and crackling with unstable energy, the weapon hummed with menace. Its edge warped the air, tendrils of iridescent light spiraling down its length.
With a roar, Qin Hong **swung at Guān Lán’s throat**—
—and colpsed, unconscious, into the grass.
