When Xuefeng disappeared from the Spirit Awakening Hall, he found himself suspended in a void so black it seemed to absorb thought itself. Silence pressed against his ears like cotton, thick and impenetrable. He could see nothing, hear nothing—but he could feel. Wuying's rapid heartbeat thumped against his cheek as she cradled his head to her chest. The rhythm was a frantic Morse code, a language of fear, of urgency.
Every cell in Xuefeng's body screamed at him to pull away—to behave like the gentleman he'd always believed himself to be. But survival whispered louder. Whatever this space was, it wasn't natural. It felt like a graveyard for light and sound, a place where even screams would die unheard. If Wuying's Spirit Art could render them invisible, perhaps even untouchable, pulling away now might be the equivalent of inviting death to dance.
His thoughts swirled like autumn leaves caught in a gust. So, Wuying is one of the Shadow Guards? He tightened his hold, confirming what he already suspected. That explains everything—her skills, her knowledge. Admiration flickered through the storm of his thoughts. She wasn't just talented; she was extraordinary.
The darkness dissolved abruptly, as if the world had been doused in water, and they landed on solid ground. Xuefeng staggered under Wuying's weight, barely keeping her upright. His legs quivered like saplings in a gale, forcing him to sit down with her still clinging to him.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, scanning his surroundings. They appeared to be in a cramped, dimly lit storage closet. The scent of old linens hung in the air, mingling with a faint tang of dust. It might have been his courtyard—or some stranger's.
Wuying didn't answer immediately. Instead, she burrowed her face into his hair, inhaling deeply. Her breath was warm against his scalp. "Can you feel it?" she murmured. "My heartbeat."
"Of course. It's... uh, it's going crazy," Xuefeng stammered, his voice awkward in the confined space.
"It beats like this," she murmured, her tone impossibly tender, "because I'm holding someone who matters to me."
The words hung in the air, sinking into him like stones dropped into a deep well. Before he could respond, she slowly released her hold, leaning back to meet his gaze. Her face, so often stoic, was soft now, vulnerable.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I'd be fine, but I lose focus when I'm this close to you. I had to stop halfway to regain my composure."
"There's nothing to apologize for," Xuefeng replied, his tone more defensive than he intended. He fumbled for an explanation, desperate to deflect. "I mean… I was the one who—uh, felt you up… I just wanted to confirm it was you."
Her smile broke the tension, sly and disarming. "Is that so? You must have looked at me quite a lot to remember me so clearly." Her voice dipped, teasing, as she added, "Don't worry. If it's you, Xuefeng, I don't mind how much you touch me."
The air thickened again, her words stripping away his defenses. Wuying buried her face in the curve of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. His thoughts spiraled, a tangled mess of guilt and attraction. She was right there, and her feelings were undeniable. But another face loomed in his mind—Tianshi. Her smile, her voice, her absence.
Get a grip, you fool. His internal voice snapped at him, trying to stave off the storm of emotions. But Wuying didn't give him the chance.
"I know why you've hesitated before," she said quietly. "Your broken dantian… it held you back. But now you're healed. There's no reason to pretend anymore. We don't need to act like we don't care about each other."
Her words were a blade, cutting through the tangle of his confusion. For years, they must have danced around their feelings, circling one another but never touching. Now, there was no escaping it.
"Wuying…" His voice faltered as he reached for her, brushing his fingers through her hair. "You saw through me all along, didn't you? You're right. Now that I can finally cultivate, I don't need to hold back anymore."
She pulled away just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes shining with unspoken hope.
"I can finally become strong enough to protect the people I care about," he continued, his hand cupping her cheek. "That includes you. But how can I be so selfish? How can I accept your feelings when I can't guarantee your safety? Wouldn't my love be an empty promise if I couldn't keep you safe?"
His lips brushed her forehead in a gesture so tender it sent a shiver down her spine. "My feelings for you haven't changed since the day I met you, and they won't change moving forward. All I ask is for patience. Let me become the man who's worthy of your love."
Wuying's resolve crumbled. Whatever barriers she'd erected to protect her heart dissolved under the weight of his words. Tears threatened to spill, but she forced them back, her smile trembling.
"I'm so happy to hear that," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I was so afraid… afraid you'd hate me when you learned the truth."
"Why would I hate you?" he asked, his confusion genuine.
"Because I lied. Because I hid that I'm one of the Shadow Guards," she admitted, gesturing to the black leather uniform clinging to her form. "You once said you liked elegant, gentle women. I thought you'd hate me if you knew what I really am."
Xuefeng shook his head, his expression soft. "Did I ever say that? Don't worry. I'm not that shallow." His voice warmed with admiration. "If anything, I think it's incredible. It motivated me—knowing how strong you are. I can't accept being weaker than the person I want to protect."
Her smile returned, full and unguarded, as she sank back into his embrace. Xuefeng held her tightly, his chest a swirling storm of conflicting emotions. He'd made a choice—he would protect her. But as her warmth pressed against him, Tianshi's shadow still lingered in the corners of his mind.
He sighed inwardly. His love life was about to become a battlefield, and he wasn't sure he'd come out unscathed.
Xuefeng's pulse hammered in his ears as his body betrayed him, refusing to pull away from Wuying's warmth. Her breath brushed his neck, each exhale stirring something primal that he was barely able to suppress. Focus. Get it together. But no matter how hard he tried to muster control, his will was crumbling.
Just as he felt himself nearing the edge of surrender, salvation arrived in the form of muffled footsteps echoing outside. Wuying's head snapped up, her instincts razor-sharp. Without hesitation, she enveloped them in that eerie void space once more. The crushing silence pressed against him, the absence of reality itself, before they reappeared—this time in his bedroom.
"The owner of the courtyard must have heard us," Wuying said, her voice calm despite the situation. "I stopped in a random place, so we had to move again." She glanced down, realizing their position, and reluctantly climbed off his waist. The loss of her warmth sent a chill across his skin.
"You should rest now." Her tone shifted to one of quiet authority as she stepped away, brushing her hands against her leather uniform. "Let your body recover. Sleep first, then cultivate to stabilize your stage. Advancing two stages in a row must have thrown your dantian into chaos."
Xuefeng barely managed a nod before Wuying moved toward the door. She paused at the threshold, her silhouette framed against the dim light spilling from the hall. "I respect your resolution," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of determination, "but that doesn't mean I'll stop trying. I don't care if you're strong or weak. I'll keep pursuing you."
And with that, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her. Xuefeng stared at the empty space she'd left, her words reverberating in his mind. He had expected her tenacity, but her boldness still managed to unbalance him.
If it's just Wuying, he thought, dragging a hand down his face, I might be able to manage her teasing. Let's hope the other ladies have left, or I'll lose my sanity.
The recovery pill worked its magic, knitting his body back together with an efficiency that astonished him. Still, he heeded Wuying's advice, collapsing onto the bed. His plan to wake in the dead of night and resume cultivating dissolved the moment sleep pulled him under. When he next opened his eyes, sunlight poured through the curtains, bathing the room in golden light.
As if summoned by his wakefulness, Wuying slipped into the room. She perched on the edge of his bed, her smile as warm as the morning sun. "Good morning, sunshine," she said, her fingers brushing lightly across his cheek. "Did you sleep well?"
Xuefeng blinked up at her, still groggy. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep. He stretched, his muscles stiff but rejuvenated. "I think I need to bathe. I forgot to wash after the ceremony yesterday."
Her smile widened. "Already taken care of. I've drawn you a bath." Her gaze lingered on his bare chest for a beat too long, and there was no mistaking the spark of boldness in her eyes. "Do you want me to help wash your back?"
A few days ago, the mere thought of such a suggestion would have turned Wuying's cheeks crimson. Now, she delivered it with unabashed confidence. Xuefeng felt the familiar tug of temptation, but he forced himself to focus. His survival depended on discipline, not indulgence.
"I can handle it myself," he replied, pushing back the covers and rising to his feet.
As he passed her on the way to the bathroom, he noticed the neat stack of clothes and the breakfast tray waiting for him. He paused, the small gestures striking him more than they should have. "You know," he said, turning to her, "you don't have to do all this. You're already a Shadow Guard. You don't need to act like my maid on top of that. Still… thanks. My life would be a mess without you."
Wuying's composure faltered, a faint blush creeping up her neck. She stepped closer, taking his hand in hers. "I don't need to," she said softly, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes. "I want to. Taking care of you makes me happy."
She pressed his hand against her chest, letting him feel the rapid beat of her heart before stepping back with a shy smile. "Now go. The Clan Leader's waiting, and you don't want to be late."
"Alright," he said, grinning despite himself. As he stepped into the bathroom, he couldn't resist a playful jab. "And don't peek."
Her laugh followed him as the door closed. On the other side, Wuying's eyes glimmered faintly, her Spirit Vision activating. She couldn't resist a glance through the walls, watching as Xuefeng moved to the bath. Just before he undressed, she blinked and turned off her ability, a sly smirk playing on her lips. Soon, she thought, her resolve hardening. I'll make sure the first moment is special.
Inside the bath, Xuefeng sank into the water, the warmth soothing his muscles as he closed his eyes. Splitting his consciousness, he focused on his dantian, letting the external world fade. In the swirling sea of Black Qi, his Spirit awaited, its form now sharper and more vivid. Before he could inspect it further, he felt the familiar pull, drawing him into the space of his Fate Spirit.
"Welcome back, Xuefeng," a sweet, youthful voice greeted him. It carried a playful lilt, teasing but strangely comforting. "I was about to wake you myself."
"Good morning, Fate—" He hesitated, realizing he didn't even know how to address her. "Do you have a name? It feels weird to just call you 'Fate Spirit.'"
The voice giggled, soft and melodic. "You can call me Ling. It's the name I've always remembered."
"Ling." He nodded. "Alright, Ling. Let's get down to it. What's the situation here?"