Chapter 85 — On the Edge of Collapse

  Elena sat at the edge of the bed, fingertips hovering over a sheet of pristine white paper—

  waiting for warmth that didn’t come.

  No spark.

  No heat.

  Not even the faintest shimmer of Spiritflame.

  “Weird…” she muttered, gently poking the page.

  “It’s not even warm…”

  Yet moments ago—

  YiChen’s skin had burned beneath her palms like a furnace on the verge of losing control.

  Bloodshot eyes.

  Dark. Fevered.

  His breath had grazed her cheek—heat sharp enough to scatter thought.

  “Ah—!”

  She slapped her own cheeks, rolled once across the blanket, and pressed her flushed forehead against the cool nightstand.

  “What on earth am I thinking?!”

  It had to be her Spiritflame.

  She must’ve pushed too hard.

  Purified too fiercely.

  The black thorns had burned too fast—when he was already exhausted.

  No wonder he told her to hurry.

  “I’m sorry, YiChen…”

  Her voice came out muffled between her palms—soft, guilty, resolute.

  Tomorrow, she would apologize properly.

  “I need better control,” she whispered, settling cross-legged, eyes firm.

  “Fast and clean. No overflow. No leakage.”

  Guuu—

  The loud growl shattered the quiet.

  She froze.

  Only then did she remember the shrimp noodles—half-eaten, long abandoned on the table.

  “Oh… right. The noodles…”

  Barefoot, she hopped off the bed and tiptoed down the hallway, her small shadow stretching long beneath the silver wash of moonlight.

  ?

  Elsewhere—

  Cold water hammered down, each drop like an invisible nail driven into bare skin.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  YiChen tilted his head back, taking the full force without flinching.

  Letting it hit. Letting it hurt.

  This wasn’t about cooling down.

  It was punishment.

  For nearly losing control.

  For the flicker of hunger that had dared to surface.

  For the truth he refused to name.

  Water traced the rigid planes of his back, but it couldn’t drown the fire still coiling beneath his skin.

  Shixi drifted lazily through his freshly-cleansed Spirit Meridians, silver consciousness like liquid moonlight.

  “Mmm… warm… pleasant…”

  “Let her purify you again tomorrow…”

  Shadowfang’s low laugh rippled through the depths of his consciousness.

  “So you told her to hurry?”

  “How noble.”

  YiChen said nothing.

  Eyes shut tight, he pressed his forehead to the cool tile.

  Her presence lingered in his lungs.

  Her voice echoed under his skin.

  That was the problem.

  “What am I supposed to do with this…”

  His hoarse whisper dissolved beneath the roar of water.

  ?

  Morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, scattering soft gold across the dining table.

  YiChen cupped a porcelain mug between his palms. Steam curled upward, blurring the hard lines of his face.

  Footsteps—light, familiar.

  His gaze lifted before thought could intervene.

  Elena entered the room, wrapped in pale morning light.

  “Morning.”

  She slipped into the seat across from him, voice warm.

  “Going out?” he asked.

  “Mhm.”

  She smiled faintly. “Just for a bit. I want to visit home.”

  The bottom of his cup touched the saucer with a crisp sound.

  “Tell Bernard,” he said quietly. “He’ll arrange it.”

  Silence settled between them.

  “YiChen…”

  Her fingers traced the rim of her cup. “About last night…”

  He looked up.

  “Did I hurt you?” she asked softly. “Was I too rough?”

  “No.”

  His reply was immediate. Too sharp.

  “You did well.”

  Relief flickered across her features.

  “Then… before I head out,” she hesitated, “should I purify you again?”

  His Consciousness Sea erupted.

  Shixi’s tails flared with excitement.

  Shadowfang released a low, dangerous hum.

  Every instinct screamed yes.

  But her gaze was clear. Trusting.

  “…No.”

  He turned away, voice strained.

  Elena blinked—then noticed the faint flush creeping up his ears.

  Understanding dawned.

  “Oh…”

  She smiled, small and gentle.

  “I’ve been practicing,” she said carefully. “I think I can make it easier for you.”

  Four simple words.

  YiChen exhaled through clenched teeth.

  “…Do as you like.”

  ?

  The bedroom was quiet.

  Elena focused intently, Spiritflame flowing with careful precision.

  Her movements were steady. Controlled.

  YiChen sat rigid, breath measured, every muscle locked in restraint.

  When the warmth reached deeper—

  when something inside him twisted sharply—

  Not pain.

  The realization struck like a blade.

  “Stop.”

  The word left him instantly.

  Elena froze.

  Her hand withdrew at once.

  “I—I’m sorry, did it—?”

  “No.”

  He steadied his voice with effort. “You did nothing wrong.”

  His fingers curled slowly against the bedsheet, then relaxed.

  “Thank you,” he added, quieter.

  She nodded, worry lingering in her eyes—but she didn’t press.

  ?

  The bathroom door closed behind him.

  Cold water crashed down.

  YiChen braced both palms against the tile, knuckles pale.

  Shixi flickered through his meridians, humming contentedly.

  Shadowfang snorted.

  “You’re running again.”

  YiChen lowered his head beneath the stream.

  Maybe.

  But control—

  that was the only thing standing between him and something he couldn’t afford to become.

  Water streamed down his back, cold and relentless.

  He stayed there until the heat finally dulled.