"Hello?" she said, her voice softer than before, almost trembling.
Ashen noticed the change right away. Her gaze flickered toward him for the briefest of moments, her eyes carrying an inexplicable mixture of guilt and frustration.
Then, as if realizing something, she turned away sharply, her posture stiffening like a coiled spring. Whatever was being said on the other end of the line wasn't sitting well with her.
The Heavenly Yang Constitution coursed through Ashen's veins, a phenomenon of raw, unyielding vitality that heightened every fiber of his being.
It wasn't just a wellspring of power; it was an amplifier of his senses, sharpening them to an almost supernatural degree. Every sound in the room became magnified—the subtle rustle of Lin Yue's nightgown as she turned, the soft crackle of the soup's steam as it spiraled upward, and even the faint creak of the floor beneath her feet.
As he focused, his heightened awareness extended outward, latching onto the muffled voice emanating from Lin Yue's phone. His breath slowed, his heartbeat steadying as he tuned into the frequency of the conversation.
The Heavenly Yang Constitution wasn't just a reservoir of energy; it was a furnace of perception, burning away the fog of distraction and sharpening his mind to pinpoint accuracy.
The gruff voice of a man cut through the muffling static like a blade, the tone saturated with irritation. Though distorted, Ashen could discern every syllable with clarity.
His eyes narrowed as he processed the words, his senses feeding him not only the dialogue but the emotional weight carried in the man's voice—the bitterness, the anger, the insecurity woven into every accusation.
"Where the hell are you, Yue?" the man demanded. Even through the phone's distortion, Ashen could hear the undertone of accusation in the voice.
Lin Yue's shoulders tensed visibly, her grip on the phone tightening. "I told you already," she replied, her tone sharp enough to cut. "I'm at the neighbor's, taking care of Eren. He's sick—he almost died last night."
"Don't give me that crap," the man snapped, his voice rising. "Do you think I'm stupid? You've been gone all night! What kind of married woman does that?"
Ashen's eyes narrowed. Even though Lin Yue had turned away, the tension in her body spoke volumes. She inhaled sharply, and when she responded, her voice was tinged with anger and disbelief.
"Are you seriously accusing me of something right now? I'm trying to help someone in need, and you're sitting there, throwing baseless accusations at me? Grow up, will you?"
Her husband's voice rose to a near shout, his words dripping with venom.
"Don't turn this on me, Yue! You've been acting strange for weeks now, and then you disappear overnight? You think I don't notice? You think I don't know what's going on?"
Ashen's gaze darkened as he listened, his heightened senses absorbing every nuance of the heated exchange. Lin Yue's frustration was palpable, her fingers curling into a tight fist as if she were trying to physically hold herself together.
"You don't know anything!" she shot back, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "I told you where I was, and if you can't trust me, that's your problem, not mine."
"Don't you dare walk away from this conversation," the man growled, but Lin Yue didn't give him a chance to continue. With a final, sharp exhale, she hit the end call button, her knuckles white from the force of her grip on the phone.
For a moment, the room was silent again, save for the faint sound of the soup's steam curling into the air. Lin Yue turned back to Ashen, her expression an unreadable mix of anger and guilt. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, her gaze darting anywhere but at him.
"I... I need to go," she said abruptly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Take care of yourself."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and left the room, her hurried footsteps fading down the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Ashen alone once more.
For a long moment, he simply stared at the closed door, his mind churning with questions. The argument he had overheard painted a complicated picture, one that stirred emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years—curiosity, anger, and something else he couldn't quite name.
Lin Yue's actions didn't fit neatly into any category. She had saved him, stayed by his side, and yet her life outside this room seemed fraught with tension and secrets.
Slowly, he exhaled, pushing the thoughts aside. There was something else gnawing at the edges of his awareness, something more immediate.
The memory of Lin Yue's touch, the calming effect of her yin energy on the raging storm within him, lingered in his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake. And then there was the fleeting glimpse of himself reflected in her eyes before she turned away—a look that seemed almost... startled.
With deliberate movements, Ashen pushed the bedsheet off his body, the coarse fabric sliding to the floor. The air in the room felt cooler against his bare skin, a subtle reminder of his vulnerability. He stood, his legs shaky but determined, and made his way to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall opposite the bed.
The mirror's surface was cloudy with age, its silver backing mottled with dark spots, but it was enough to see his reflection. When his eyes finally met the image staring back at him, his breath hitched, and his body went rigid.
Shock rippled through him like a thunderclap, his hands gripping the edges of the mirror's frame as if to steady himself. His mind, already fragile from the whirlwind of recent events, struggled to process what he was seeing. It was impossible. Unbelievable.
His reflection wasn't what he expected.
It wasn't what he remembered, or at least what he felt of himself when he first entered this body. He didn't recognize himself.
The revelation hit him like a blow, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to tilt. The room blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as his mind spiraled into the abyss of what this could mean. But the reflection remained, unwavering and unyielding, forcing him to confront the impossible truth.
What had happened to him?
The question echoed in his mind as he stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him like a suffocating tide.