Half an hour later, the first ray of golden sunlight pierced through the morning mist, shining into an office in the hospital through the blinds. On the desk lay an open manual of basic medical knowledge, the rich aroma of coffee wafting through the air.

Nurse Lenna was looking helplessly at Jim, who was confessing his love to her once again, rejecting the man's request for the third time: "I'm sorry, Mr. Jim, I think we... really aren't suitable."

Jim closed the ring box with a sorrowful expression, adjusted his flashy pink lawyer suit, got up, and left the office, leaving the door slightly ajar: "I think we both need some time to think."

In the hospital corridor, the passing staff all made encouraging gestures to the dejected-looking man. Clearly, the entire hospital knew this charming lawyer.

Despite repeatedly hitting a wall, his bold declarations of love made many newly recruited young staff see Jim as a role model.

Two minutes later, Lenna walked out of the office.

The head nurse, who usually didn't see eye to eye with her, spoke earnestly this time: "Little Lenna, although Jim might be a bit of a flirt, he genuinely cares about you, and everyone can see that."

Lenna brushed her hair back with her hand: "But I don't like men like him. His temperament doesn't pass in my eyes. I prefer someone more mature and stable."

Although there was no expression on her face, deep down Lenna enjoyed the way everyone looked at her—envy, jealousy, disdain. At least at this moment, this incredibly ordinary girl was the focus of everyone's attention, which made her quicken her pace toward the registry room.

The registry room required passing through the hospital's backyard. Here, she saw a familiar figure—the old gardener. His tall stature stood straight under the outline of his waxed jacket, his stubble white, but he carried himself with his usual steadiness and efficiency.

Old Quill was swinging a shovel, seemingly busy with his work.

"Mr. Quill." Lenna stopped her steps, curiously looking around, finding only herself and old Quill in the entire backyard. "What are you busy with?"

"The dean asked me to turn the soil in the backyard. It's winter, and this earth is frozen solid."

Old Quill thrust the shovel into the ground and cast a weathered gaze at Lenna: "What brings you here?"

"I." Lenna looked somewhat shy for some reason, "I just needed to register some equipment and happened to pass by."

"Alright, I'll get back to work then."

With that, old Quill deftly separated a small protruding arm from the pit inside, shoveling in a few more spadefuls of rich black soil before wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Responding, Lenna quickened her pace as she left, though her steps were more hurried this time, as if her thoughts were in disarray, compared to her earlier light pace.

After Lenna had gone far away, Jim leisurely emerged from the back, cradling his head, glancing at the lifeless figure in the pit, and let out a chuckle.

"Did she see it all?"

"Perhaps."

"What would Miss think if she knew what you did?"

"To become a competent leader, excessive kindness, compassion, and mercy will only hold her back. She must learn to harden her heart, to use some means to let others know she is bristling with thorns and fangs. Those who dare provoke her must pay the price."

"Miss still has a long road ahead of her."

"Besides, Miss will never know." Old Quill's face, covered in stubble, cracked an enigmatic smile as he finished off the last of the vodka in the bottle, tossing it into the pit.

The label on the bottle gradually blurred in the falling soil until the pit was filled with substantial black dirt.

Everything in the garden appeared no different than before, interwoven with hues of red and green, brimming with vitality.

...

"From now on, you are one of us in the Tree of Eternal Life, Tang Xin... oh no, Miss Sevia." Fandony extended her hand to Tang Xin with a smile.

"Mrs. Fandony." Tang Xin shook the warm hand.

In the club room of the Tree of Eternal Life, the great artists applauded the new addition. Even the ancient tree rooted at the center of the room for millennia began to glow with a mysterious golden-red light.

Past memories caught up with her steps. The last meeting with the woman before her was at the academy's opera house, where You accompanied her to handle her withdrawal. Now, she stood before these illustrious artists, whom she once only saw in textbooks, listening to their applause for her joining.

Feeling a slight sense of unreality, Tang Xin did not appear flustered or bewildered, instead lowering her head slightly, as lights and shadows intertwined around her. Having experienced so much, she was no longer the initially reserved and naive girl.

Knowing that she still bore many more responsibilities and duties, though these well-connected great artists congratulated her, she felt not even a hint of vanity in her heart.

She still had a long path to pursue.

"Miss Tang."

The man's call brought her back to reality.

Tang Xin looked at the man before her and responded politely, "Mr. Aristophanes, I have read your 'Praise Poem.' I have admired you since I was young; all along, I have..."

"There is no need for these pleasantries." The man smiled gently, waving his hand, "From now on, we are all members of the Tree of Eternal Life, striving together for the noble cause in our hearts."

Aristophanes looked at the portraits hanging on one side, framed in gilt, depicting the great artists of that era—each painted by the finest painters. The expressions of the characters in the paintings were lifelike. Tang Xin also became a bit entranced, standing before these portraits, as if only separated by a veil of mist, those great practitioners who fought for humanity's cause a century ago stood before her, their gazes ardent as standard-bearers, their smiles wise and warm.

"Mickey, Roquel..."

As the burning star sailed into her view

The deep gaze leaped beyond the shackles of history

—And her companions

—Held a mournful look towards one another.

Only then did Tang Xin realize the familiar figures gathered before the portraits, all renowned great artists from her books.

"Floran, Jamu, Sado, Plado, and Mr. Chen Shi." She softly recited, slightly joyful, storing her joy in her heart, yet unable to hide the clear light in her eyes.

With a sincere expression, Tang Xin held her hands to her chest, like a minstrel, softly chanting.

"Laying in the cold spring water of deep forests and high mountains,"

"Embracing the burning determination to expand and approach divinity,"

"Embrace the mountains and stars,"

"Embrace the corals and the earth."

"The sun's light pales in comparison to your brilliance,"

"The moon scorches with your radiance,"

"You are the true giants,"

"The dull thud of your fall resounds across the hills,"

"The wind in the forest howls in rage."

"No need to lament the departure,"

"Our poetic pen will linger on your noble virtues,"

"Comforting the bitter hearts with joy."

"From now on, you are the wind,"

"And we shall become the hills."

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