Chapter 78 — Emberlight in the Still Night
Late-morning light filtered through the sheer curtains,
scattering pale flecks across the white bedspread—
and along the quiet curve of Elena’s cheek.
Dr. Savin stood beside the bed,
slipping her stethoscope back into its case.
“You’re recovering well,” she said with a gentle smile.
“But you’ll still need IV fluids for the next few days.”
Then she turned to YiChen, her tone sharpening into calm professionalism.
“Help her move her neck three times a day.
The shoulder and back muscles also need massage—
long periods in bed cause stiffness.”
Elena’s eyes widened.
Her ears burned instantly.
Massage?
By YiChen?!
She hadn’t even finished processing the thought before—
a warm hand settled at the back of her neck.
“Like this?”
YiChen’s voice came from just above her—
low, focused, utterly serious.
As if this were no different from checking a weapon grip.
His fingers traced the tense muscles at the base of her neck,
applying just the right amount of pressure.
His thumb moved in slow, practiced circles along her upper spine.
Elena froze.
Even her breathing stalled for a split second.
His hand was so warm.
Wherever he touched, heat bloomed—
sliding down her spine,
rising into her cheeks,
until even the tips of her ears burned scarlet.
She didn’t dare look at him.
Her gaze fixed on her own hands,
fingers clenched tightly in her lap,
thoughts dissolving into stunned static.
YiChen is touching me.
YiChen is taking care of me.
YiChen is—
“…I’m sorry.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them—
small, unsteady, as if they’d cracked on the way up.
YiChen’s hand paused.
“…Hm?”
Elena’s lashes trembled.
She couldn’t lift her head.
“…Did I… cause you trouble again?”
The silence that followed lasted only a beat—
but it carried weight,
like snow refusing to melt.
Then—
“No.”
YiChen’s voice was quiet.
But every syllable landed with certainty.
“You didn’t cause trouble.”
His hand resumed its gentle motion, steady and controlled.
“Not even a little.”
“Don’t overthink it.
Just focus on getting better.”
“…Mm.”
The sound barely escaped her lips.
She bit down on her lower lip—hard—
but the tears still came.
They fell soundlessly,
hot and unstoppable,
dotting the back of her hand one after another.
She tried to wipe them away—
but for every tear she caught,
two more slipped through.
Why am I crying?
Was it the frozen stall?
The pain in her head?
Or—
…Because no one outside her family
had ever held her like this—
with such care, at a moment when she had nothing left to give.
Something twisted deep in YiChen’s chest—
a silent, invisible ache
sharper than any blade.
He didn’t speak.
He simply drew her into his arms.
One arm supported her back;
the other cradled her head, careful to avoid the wound.
His hand moved slowly along her spine,
a steady, grounding rhythm.
“If you want to cry,” he murmured,
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“then cry.”
The calm in his voice—
so even, so certain—
was like a key turning in a lock.
Something inside her finally gave way.
Elena clutched the front of his shirt,
her tears soaking silently into the fabric.
She didn’t sob.
She didn’t make a sound.
But her small body trembled—
carrying the weight of everything
she’d borne alone for far too long.
Fear.
Grief.
Loneliness.
The quiet terror of being hurt
when no one was there to stop it.
She cried until the shaking faded.
And somewhere between
the steady rhythm of his heartbeat
and the safety of his arms—
she fell asleep once more.
————
YiChen gently lowered Elena onto the bed,
careful to keep the back of her head fully suspended—
not a fraction of pressure allowed.
He adjusted her posture with meticulous, almost surgical precision,
hands steady, movements exact.
When everything was finally in place,
he remained where he stood.
Silent.
Still.
Watching the faint rise and fall of her chest.
And then—
The surge of Faith power struck again.
A sharp, incandescent pain ripped through his Spirit Meridians,
as though red-hot iron wires were being threaded through his veins—
twisting, burning,
from the inside out.
He turned toward the window.
Beyond the glass, moonlight brushed the garden,
trees swaying softly as their shadows drifted across the stone path.
The wind was light.
Yet the night itself felt unbearably heavy—
a crushing weight settling across his shoulders,
as if intent on grinding him down where he stood.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
Without a word,
he turned toward the bathroom.
It was time
to force the poison out again.
?
When Elena woke once more,
the first thing she saw
was her mother’s tear-streaked face.
“Mom…?”
Her voice was hoarse—barely more than breath.
Her thoughts drifted, unfocused, scattered like mist.
Catherine’s tears fell freely as she reached out,
trembling fingers brushing her daughter’s pale cheek.
“How could they dare…” she whispered.
“How could anyone do this to you…”
The school had notified them.
YiChen had made the arrangements immediately.
Her parents arrived within hours.
Footsteps echoed down the hall.
Then—
“Big sister’s awake!!”
Mike’s voice burst into the room like sunlight.
He rushed in, all relief and barely contained energy—
then spun on his heel and bolted back out again.
Moments later, Arthur entered,
one steady hand resting on his wife’s shoulder.
“That’s enough,” he said gently.
“Don’t cry. This was… a blessing in disguise.
YiChen arrived in time—and he handled it.”
Elena’s eyes widened slightly.
“…YiChen? What did he do?”
Arthur’s expression darkened.
“He crippled all three of them,” he said flatly.
“Shattered their right arms.
They’re still in the hospital. Whether they live or die…”
He paused.
“That’s up to fate.”
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No trace of pity.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he continued.
“And you certainly don’t need to feel guilty.
This was justice.
What they did was unforgivable.”
Catherine smoothed Elena’s hair gently.
“Would you like to come home with us,” she asked softly,
“or stay here a little longer?”
Elena’s ears flushed crimson.
Her reply was almost inaudible.
“…Can I stay here?”
Catherine studied her daughter in silence.
Then nodded.
Arthur’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
“You’ll receive the best care here. And…”
His gaze flicked briefly toward the doorway.
“YiChen cares for you very much.”
“Brother YiChen is amazing!!”
Mike chimed in, bouncing on his heels.
“He totally avenged you!”
————
At the Gate of Farewell
YiChen escorted her family to the gates of the estate.
Dark shadows lay beneath his eyes, his complexion drained of color.
Days of enduring divine backlash had worn him thin—
like a bowstring drawn to its absolute limit,
trembling on the verge of snapping.
Arthur clasped his hand, firm and steady.
“Stay in touch.”
YiChen nodded once.
As the black sedan disappeared down the winding mountain road,
he turned and walked back toward the house alone.
?
In the bedroom, a maid was quietly tending to Elena.
She looked exhausted.
Her gaze drifted, unfocused—still caught somewhere far away.
Her fingers traced the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist without thinking,
three tiny diamonds catching the light.
An eighteenth-birthday gift from her mother—
most likely retrieved from the academy.
The maid finished her work and withdrew.
The door closed with a soft, careful click.
YiChen approached the bed and sat down.
“If you’re tired,” he said quietly,
“get some rest.”
But Elena was watching him instead.
Her eyes lingered on his face—
the pallor, the strain he had made no effort to conceal.
“You don’t look well,” she said softly.
“Are you sick?”
She hesitated, then added, even more gently,
“You’re really pale…”
“I’m fine.”
He shook his head faintly.
“I just didn’t sleep.”
Her lips pressed together.
After a moment, she gathered her courage
and reached out, tugging lightly at his sleeve.
“Could you… lie down with me for a while?”
Her voice was small. Careful.
As though she were already preparing herself to be turned away.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
?
Deep Night · Faint Light
Elena woke in darkness.
YiChen lay beside her—
utterly still.
His breathing was shallow, uneven.
Cold sweat glistened at his temples;
his features were drawn tight with pain,
his lips drained of all color.
In the faint glow of the bedside lamp,
he looked almost translucent—
as though something unseen were quietly hollowing him out from within.
Her chest tightened.
Something was wrong.
She hesitated—
then slowly sat up.
With utmost care, she reached out
and pressed her palm against his chest.
A soft pink-gold Spiritflame kindled at her fingertips,
its light trembling as it slipped into his Spirit Meridians—
—and pain exploded.
A brutal, visceral shock tore through her.
Her consciousness was wrenched downward.
?
Thorns.
Endless black thorns.
They writhed deep within his Spirit Meridians,
twisted and entangled like cursed vines,
clawing through every pathway—
far more savage, far more invasive
than anything she had ever sensed in Cecilia.
They felt alive.
Hungry.
Poised to pierce his very soul.
What is this…?
There was no time to think.
Elena clenched her teeth and drove her Spiritflame forward.
The pink-gold fire ignited,
flooding his meridians like a breaking tide.
Wherever it passed, the black thorns shrieked and recoiled,
withering into foul smoke.
But there were too many.
Every channel inside him was contaminated.
Her newly recovering body began to tremble,
the flame at her fingertips flickering violently.
Not enough… still not enough…
She forced out the last of her Spirit Force,
ignoring the pain tearing through her own meridians.
The flame flared one final time—
“Ah—!”
Agony ripped through her.
Her vision shattered.
Darkness surged up like a flood.
?
And then—
YiChen’s eyes flew open.
Deep within them,
a spark of gold-red fire ignited—
like the first light of dawn
cleaving through endless night.
She saw it.
Her Spiritflame—
reflected in his gaze.
And then—
everything went dark.
