In the end, Song Ciwan resisted the urge to collect the Golden Hawthorn on the spot and sell them off.
She cradled the Golden Balls, each the size of a chicken's egg. The character for "Void" radiated outward, and suddenly, the scene she was viewing from afar changed again.
The Divine Hall with its curling green smoke vanished, as did the Snake Maiden. Time and space shifted, and when Song Ciwan focused her eyes again, she saw a broken window.
A dilapidated old window, a mottled oil lamp. A bone-chilling wind blew in through the broken frame, making the lamp's already faint flame flicker wildly, as if it could go out at any moment.
A table was set by this window, and before it sat a gaunt, middle-aged man. He held a scroll, coughing softly as he read without pause.
"COUGH COUGH COUGH! COUGH COUGH COUGH!"
