Feng Yao's second spike hit without warning three days later, mid-conversation with a farmer offering the group supplies, the man's simple question about payment somehow triggering a memory that sent wild qi crackling across the market stall before anyone could react.
"Down," Wei Liang shouted, already moving, feeling the surge through the strange resonance an instant before it visibly manifested.
He caught the worst of it on instinct, Void root absorbing the wild discharge before it could reach the farmer, but a stray tendril still clipped a nearby cart, splintering wood and sending produce scattering across the dirt road.
The farmer stumbled back, pale, staring at Feng Yao with open terror now instead of simple caution. "What is he."
"Someone who needs help, not fear," Wei Liang said
