Chapter 80 — Spiritflame and an Embrace
Morning Meeting · Absent-Minded
Inside the City Hall conference room, holographic projections shimmered in midair—
complex Spirit-Energy array schematics rotating in layered constellations,
their pale light washing over glass, metal, and polished stone.
YiChen sat at the far end of the table.
His fingers traced the edge of the dossier without awareness—
rolling one corner of the paper,
flattening it again,
then repeating the motion as if caught in a silent loop.
The Director of Engineering was speaking—
detailing Spirit-Force node redistribution across the Eastern District,
projecting risk curves and energy-load simulations.
But YiChen was no longer there.
His thoughts had already drifted—
—to the rose-wrapped garden on Azure Radiance Street.
Is she awake?
Has she stopped crying?
“Captain Caelestis?”
The voice cut in sharply.
“Do you have any objections to the diversion plan?”
YiChen blinked, the room snapping back into focus.
Dozens of eyes were on him.
“…Proceed as originally planned,” he said quietly—
his voice lower than usual, restrained to the point of austerity.
The moment the meeting adjourned, he stood.
The holograms hadn’t even finished dissolving
before he was already heading for the door.
He didn’t see the look Leo cast after him—
sharp, knowing, and faintly troubled.
?
Backseat Silence
The black sedan slid into traffic.
YiChen leaned back against the leather seat,
his fingernails pressing faint crescents into his palm.
He wanted to see her.
Now.
And yet—
he was afraid.
Afraid of how pale she might look.
Afraid she might not smile when she saw him.
Afraid that the distance of the past two days
had already carved something he couldn’t undo.
Outside the window, the city blurred past in streaks of steel and light.
His heartbeat only quickened.
Shadowfang’s voice slipped through his Consciousness Sea, dry and merciless.
“Coward.”
YiChen said nothing.
?
The Rose Garden
Elena sat on a stone bench in the rose garden,
her hands folded loosely in her lap.
The sunlight was warm—
but it couldn’t chase away the cold lodged beneath her ribs.
So this was what it felt like.
To care for someone—
and be avoided by them.
The pain was small, sharp, precise.
Like a thorn driven straight into the heart—
aching with every breath.
And yet—
she didn’t regret it.
Even if she were given a hundred chances,
she would still choose to save him.
She only wished—
she had woken him first.
Maybe then he wouldn’t be angry.
Maybe then he wouldn’t have disappeared for two days.
Her throat tightened.
A tear slid down her cheek,
hot as it struck the back of her hand.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Then—
a rustle.
Soft.
From the lawn behind her.
She turned.
Her vision was still blurred with tears—
but she saw him.
YiChen.
Morning light crowned his silhouette.
His gaze—steady, quiet, and softer than she had ever seen—
rested on her alone.
?
The Embrace
“YiChen—!”
His name broke from her lips before she could stop it.
She ran.
Straight into his arms.
Two days of fear, guilt, and quiet heartbreak
collapsed all at once.
Her tears soaked into his chest,
each drop burning through the fabric.
YiChen went rigid for a single breath—
then wrapped his arms around her.
Tight.
As if anchoring something he had nearly lost.
What was he doing?
How had he let her cry alone?
Her voice trembled against him, breaking apart.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done it while you were asleep…
I should’ve woken you… next time—”
Shadowfang roared through his mind.
“Next time?!
Does she even understand she nearly shattered her Spirit Root?!”
YiChen closed his eyes.
The one who had panicked was him.
The one who had nearly broken—
had been him.
And yet she was the one apologizing.
For not asking first.
Something in his chest gave way.
A breath escaped him—soft, almost helpless.
“You’re the first person,” he murmured—
lowering his head, resting his forehead against her hair—
“to nearly burn yourself empty…
and then apologize for not giving notice.”
Elena froze.
Her breath caught.
Tears clung to her lashes, glittering in the sunlight.
YiChen held her closer, his voice rough and low.
“It’s alright now,” he said.
“It’s over.”
Among the roses,
their shadows overlapped—
at last,
with no space left between them.
—————
YiChen’s care for Elena grew meticulous—
to the point of obsession.
He monitored her temperature, her pulse, the cadence of her breathing.
He adjusted pillows, light, curtains—every variable within reach.
But he no longer allowed himself to sleep beside her.
When the house fell silent at night,
he would rise without a sound and return to his own room—
afraid he might fall too deeply asleep.
Afraid she might reach out again in secret—
and burn herself dry for his sake.
?
The Lesson Learned
This time, Elena had learned.
For an entire afternoon, she clung to Dr. Savin’s side—
soft voice, lowered lashes, wide eyes gleaming with barely contained hope,
as persistent as a rain-soaked kitten that refused to let go.
At last, Dr. Savin exhaled and surrendered.
“Thirty seconds,” she said flatly.
“Not a second more.”
Elena lit up.
She burst into the study, nearly radiant, eyes sparkling like starlight.
“YiChen! The doctor said I can use Spirit Force again!”
Without lifting his gaze, YiChen replied coolly:
“Wait until you’re fully recovered.”
Her smile collapsed instantly.
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes reddened.
She looked—
for lack of a better word—
devastated.
Like a squirrel whose pine nut had just been confiscated.
YiChen: “……”
“…Thirty seconds,” he conceded at last.
Elena brightened immediately, holding up three fingers.
“I swear! You time me!”
?
The Thirty Seconds That Went Wrong
They sat facing each other.
Elena placed her fingertips lightly against YiChen’s chest.
“Start.”
She inhaled—
—and her Spirit Force detonated.
BOOM—!!
A surge of pink-gold flame erupted like a miniature volcano,
flooding the room in a heartbeat.
YiChen’s pupils constricted sharply.
He seized her wrist at once.
“Stop.”
The flame vanished instantly.
Elena blinked, cheeks puffing into a small, stubborn pout.
“…I didn’t go over time.”
“That,” YiChen said flatly,
“was thirty seconds?”
She hesitated.
“…I thought…
if I made it stronger, it would clean more…”
From the depths of his Consciousness Sea, Shadowfang howled with delight.
“Ferocious! This sovereign approves!”
YiChen pinched the bridge of his nose.
Final judgment:
“Until Dr. Savin says you’re fully recovered—”
“No Spirit Force. At all.”
?
One Week Later · 10:00 a.m.
The metal clasp of the medical case snapped shut with a decisive click.
Dr. Savin delivered her final assessment.
“Recovery is acceptable,” she said.
“But her constitution remains weak.”
Her gaze flicked between Elena’s barely contained anticipation
and YiChen’s silent, rigid restraint.
“…Don’t push yourselves,” she added.
The black car had barely disappeared down the road—
when Elena grabbed YiChen’s hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.
“Wait—Elena—”
“You can’t delay this anymore.”
She didn’t turn back.
Her voice was soft—
but unyielding.
YiChen’s condition had worsened visibly.
His skin was pale as bone.
Dark shadows hollowed his eyes.
Cold sweat frequently slicked his temples.
Twice a day—morning and night—
he forced the poison out through sheer will alone.
Just to remain standing.
From deep within his mind, Shadowfang sneered:
“Keep this up, and you’ll burn yourself to death.”
YiChen had never yielded.
Not once.
Until now.
————
Spiritflame Purification
YiChen removed his coat, leaving his shirt on—
to give Elena clear access to the damaged meridian pathways beneath.
She took a steady breath and focused.
When her Spiritflame ignited, it was controlled and precise—
a soft rose-gold glow, quiet and unwavering.
Elena placed her fingertips against his chest.
The reaction was immediate.
Spirit-energy surged through YiChen’s meridians,
not as comfort, but as pressure—
dense, disorienting, forcing its way through channels already strained.
Black thorns reacted violently.
They fractured under the Spiritflame’s advance,
splintering in sharp bursts of pain before dissolving into ash.
YiChen’s shoulders tensed.
His fingers tightened against the mattress as he absorbed the backlash,
jaw set, breathing measured and shallow.
“Is it too much?” Elena asked, keeping her voice calm.
“Keep it steady,” he replied, voice rough but controlled.
“Don’t push.”
She adjusted at once, slowing the flow.
The Spiritflame responded, its intensity smoothing into a disciplined current,
working methodically through the damaged nodes.
Pressure gave way—gradually—to clarity.
Where the corruption had resisted most fiercely,
the pain sharpened once more, then broke,
energy dispersing cleanly through the restored pathways.
YiChen exhaled, long and slow.
The tension in his chest eased, leaving only residual ache—
unpleasant, but manageable.
“That’s enough,” he said quietly.
“…Thank you.”
Elena withdrew her hand immediately, relief evident in her posture.
“You should rest,” she said.
“Your meridians are still unstable.”
YiChen nodded once, eyes closed as he focused on holding the restored balance in place.
For now, the corruption was contained.
And for tonight—
that would have to suffice.
