Healing the Omega, I Became the Whole Clan's Darling

Two days passed in a flash.

After Mu Luo examined Wen Yuzhi again and confirmed there was nothing seriously wrong anymore, Wen Yuzhi’s mental-energy training was finally put formally on the schedule.

After breakfast as usual, Wen Yuzhi decided that before going to his lesson, he would first visit Woke—the Saint Clan soldier he had saved.

Woke was also in the royal palace now.

Because Wen Yuzhi had personally said he wanted to bring him back, after Mansendis left first with the cub, the military transferred Woke to the palace as well.

Since Woke was still under observation, Mond had arranged for him to stay alone in a room similar to a supervised ward, with two guards assigned to monitor him at all times.

Woke had no objection.

In truth, being able to snatch his life back from the brink of mental sea collapse was already something he’d never even dared hope for.

During the days he’d stayed in the room, he often felt as if everything were a dream.

That uncontrollable pain had once completely engulfed him. He couldn’t sense the outside world. His sanity had felt as though it were being eaten away bit by bit by madness. In that moment, he truly believed he was about to die.

Woke wasn’t afraid of death. Every Saint Clan adult knew what kind of fate ultimately awaited them.

What he felt was only regret.

He had finally become one of the candidates. He had finally had a chance to be selected to serve at the little highness’s side as a [N O V E L I G H T] personal guard—yet he had lost control at precisely that time.

So when he awoke from the collapse, opened his eyes, and saw the little highness he’d longed for standing right in front of him, he truly thought it was a dream.

At first, when he’d been confined alone in this room, he had tried to struggle. But when Mond told him this was the royal palace, and that the little highness lived in this very complex, Woke had fallen instantly quiet. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

He made no further resistance. In these past days, he cooperated fully with every examination.

Each time Mu Luo came in to draw blood, seeing Woke already extending his arm before being asked made Mu Luo sigh inwardly—who would have thought Saint Clan soldiers could be this obedient.

If only they were all this well-behaved.

Of course Mu Luo knew that was impossible. The main reason Woke was so compliant was their little highness.

“Today is the last blood draw. Your mental sea has stabilized. With some rest, you’ll recover soon.”

When Wen Yuzhi arrived, Mu Luo had just finished examining Woke. His condition clearly looked much better.

Woke was currently in humanoid form. Aside from a slightly pale complexion, his overall state looked decent, and he no longer carried the earlier manic brutality.

As if sensing a gaze from the doorway, the Saint Clan soldier seated in the chair suddenly looked up.

The instant he saw Wen Yuzhi, Woke froze—then his expression surged uncontrollably with emotion.

Mu Luo was still reciting post-treatment instructions, reminding him to stay calm and avoid emotional agitation—but before Mu Luo finished speaking, the Saint Clan soldier abruptly sprang to his feet.

The chair behind him toppled over.

“Hey—hey—didn’t I just say no excitement...!”

Mu Luo called out in alarm.

But Woke heard nothing anymore. His eyes held only the figure gradually approaching.

Seeing him lose composure like that, Mu Luo vaguely guessed something. He turned—and saw Yiluo and Feier enter.

On the shoulder of the tall Ge De guard, a small head peeked out from behind.

—It was Wen Yuzhi.

The cub first nodded politely to Mu Luo in greeting, then turned to Woke.

The moment Wen Yuzhi’s gaze met his, Woke’s back snapped straight, chin lifting, hands pressed neatly to his sides.

Rigid as a board.

Wen Yuzhi couldn’t help the curve of his eyes. He wrote on his tablet:

[Hello. How does your body feel now?]

Woke didn’t even blink. “Good.”

Then, as if feeling that one word was too brief, he searched desperately for more and finally added, “I’ll recover to normal very soon.”

It was clearly copied from what Mu Luo had just said.

Wen Yuzhi had interacted with many Saint Clan members. He knew most of them were like this—they weren’t cold or perfunctory, just inarticulate.

Seeing that Woke truly seemed to be recovering well, Wen Yuzhi felt relieved.

He wrote:

[This is the palace. Rest here for now. I’ll come see you when I have time.]

Woke wanted to say something more.

But Wen Yuzhi was already writing again:

[I know your name is Woke. You’re on my personal-guard candidate list. When you’ve healed, I’ll come watch your assessment.]

Woke stared at the words on the tablet, his smoky-gray vertical pupils lighting up.

...The little highness knew his name!

And even said he would watch his assessment.

One shock after another struck him until his mind went blank.

He didn’t even notice when Wen Yuzhi left with the two Ge De guards.

Mu Luo witnessed the entire exchange—and saw how Wen Yuzhi, with only a few sentences, had completely soothed a Saint Clan soldier.

The Saint Clan were infamous outside. Yet in front of the cub, they were obedient like oversized dogs.

Thinking that, Mu Luo glanced at Woke again—still staring fixedly at the doorway with unblinking vertical pupils—and couldn’t help murmuring inwardly:

...Yes. Definitely.

............

After Wen Yuzhi left the observation room, Mond was already waiting outside.

Seeing the cub emerge, Mond smiled. “Would the little highness like to stroll a bit more?”

Wen Yuzhi shook his head. Compared to wandering, he was more eager for the lesson ahead.

Mond seemed to sense his mood. “Then we’ll go straight to the classroom.”

Before seeing the so-called “classroom,” Wen Yuzhi had imagined something serious and formal—like a study.

But to his utter surprise, Mond led him straight into a spacious, brightly lit... playroom.

...Learning?

Wen Yuzhi blinked. He said nothing, but confusion showed in his eyes.

...Are you sure this isn’t the wrong room?

He couldn’t help doubting.

Mond, however, smiled. “No mistake. This is today’s classroom.”

Here?

Wen Yuzhi looked at the room filled with toys of every kind and didn’t know whether Mond was joking or serious.

Mond was entirely serious.

As for why a playroom...

His reasoning was simple.

The little highness was still at cub age. Rather than rigid, solemn lessons, learning through play would be better.

Mental-energy training wasn’t something achieved overnight—it was gradual.

Wen Yuzhi had only just begun touching mental energy. There was no need to start with high-intensity training in how to attack or kill.

At this stage, cultivating the cub’s interest in mental-energy learning was most important.

This was also Mu Luo’s recommendation, based on Wen Yuzhi’s physical condition.

“I once knew a human researcher with deep experience in mental energy,” Mu Luo had said. “She told me the most important aspect of mental energy is perception.”

“Perception?”

“Yes. Perceiving oneself, perceiving the external world. During development, a cub’s mental energy is more active and sensitive than in adulthood. And that stage is exactly the best time for perception.”

Mu Luo had spoken earnestly: “Blindly pursuing strength isn’t good. For a child, the goal isn’t killing or going to war. I know the Saint Clan revere strength—but the little highness isn’t suited to be raised by Saint Clan methods.”

“Your training methods would exceed what his current body can endure. He’s physically fragile—but his mental sea is the most active I’ve seen among cubs. And his mental-energy affinity is extremely high. I suspect that’s why his awakened talent relates to healing.”

It might not be one hundred percent certain—but the probability was above ninety. You only had to look at how Saint Clan reacted in front of the cub.

So Mu Luo’s advice had been:

“Let him do relaxing things—look at flowers and plants outside, play games. Let him use mental energy in a calm, low-pressure state.”

“I have materials from that human researcher. You can review them. In this area, no one is more authoritative.”

Mansendis and Mond had taken Mu Luo’s words seriously. They revised the cub’s training plan again and again, until it became what it was now.

“Little highness, don’t be nervous. Today doesn’t count as formal study,” Mond said—telling a small lie.

Wen Yuzhi still didn’t fully understand, but the knot of tension in his chest did ease.

It might also have been the environment.

They were sitting on a soft rug. Nothing related to formal lessons was around. Instead, plush toys were everywhere.

Wen Yuzhi was holding a miniature bunny plush roughly his own size. Sitting side by side, it looked like he had a rabbit classmate attending lessons with him.

The smile in Mond’s eyes hadn’t faded since earlier.

He placed a small flowerpot in front of them.

Wen Yuzhi glanced inside. Only soil.

“There’s a seed,” Mond said.

“Can the little highness feel it?”

Hearing that, Wen Yuzhi truly seemed to faintly sense something within the soil—a seed buried there, quietly wrapped in earth.

Realizing there really was one, he nodded.

Mond was surprised.

He hadn’t expected the little highness to sense it so quickly.

But perhaps it made sense.

After all, among the royal-blood generation born with Mansendis, his mental energy had been the strongest.

The little highness inherited the king’s bloodline—his mental energy would naturally not be weak.

Mond went straight to the point:

“Since you can feel it, perhaps try using mental energy to awaken it. Encourage the seed to sprout.”

Sprout a seed...

Wen Yuzhi had never done anything like that. He looked down at the soil, uncertain.

Mond guided softly beside him. “Don’t rush. First calm your mind. You already sense its presence, don’t you?”

“This seed is dormant. Your task is to call it out.”

Following Mond’s guidance, Wen Yuzhi tried extending a thread of mental-energy perception toward the seed in the soil.

Wake up.

Don’t sleep anymore.

Soft mental energy wrapped around the seed’s outer shell.

It was his first time—but just like when he combed Woke’s mental sea before, Wen Yuzhi vaguely felt he instinctively knew what to do.

He guided mental energy into the seed, the process like slowly infusing life into something asleep.

Gradually, the seed stirred.

A crack appeared on its surface. A tiny sprout pushed out, then began growing upward at astonishing speed, breaking through the soil above—and still continuing.

The sprout thickened and lengthened. Leaves formed at the tip. Finally, a small sapling stood in the pot.

By the time Wen Yuzhi realized what had happened, the sapling was already twice his height.

Mond stared blankly for a moment before remembering to applaud.

“The little highness is the first I’ve seen who could stimulate a seed so quickly on the first try. Aside from you, only—”

He cut himself off abruptly, as if he’d brushed against forbidden ground.

But Wen Yuzhi had heard.

Only?

Aside from him—there was someone else?

He looked at Mond curiously.

Mond clearly didn’t want to continue. He quickly changed the subject.

“How about a game?”

“I have more seeds. Let’s see who can sprout one faster. If I lose, I’ll tell you something about His Majesty. But if I win... could the little highness tell me something about your past?”

Wen Yuzhi was curious about Mond’s unfinished remark—but the promise of something about Mansendis was even more tempting.

As for his past...

He pressed his lips together. Faces flashed through his mind—Old Master Wen, Wen Che, Madam Jilanya.

There really wasn’t anything he couldn’t say. Many things no longer tangled him the way they once had.

Seeing the cub nod, Mond released a quiet breath.

This wasn’t just relief at redirecting attention. The topic wasn’t spontaneous, either.

Mond had planned long ago to raise it today.

They knew far too little about the little highness’s past.

What kind of life he’d lived. What kind of household he’d grown up in. What family he had.

Mansendis and Mond had considered asking earlier.

But Wen Yuzhi had only recently arrived on Dark Tower Star. His bond with the Saint Clan wasn’t yet deep. Asking private questions too soon might provoke resistance.

So they waited.

Now, as the cub settled more into life on Dark Tower Star and accepted them more, Mond finally prepared to raise the subject.

He didn’t ask bluntly.

Instead, he used today’s lesson—this relaxed setting—and framed it as an exchange, making the topic easier for Wen Yuzhi to accept.

The first round began quickly.

Two seeds were placed before them.

Mond’s sprouted faster.

Wen Yuzhi lost.