Chapter 81 — She Doesn’t Understand

  The roar of water filled the space.

  Cold streams poured down from above,

  gliding along the tense line of his neck,

  sliding down the sharp ridges of his spine,

  before crashing onto the tile floor—

  splitting into countless scattering droplets.

  Spirit Force flowed easily through him now—

  lighter than ever.

  The weight in his chest had vanished.

  His breathing stretched long and even,

  smooth as silk over water.

  In the depths of his Consciousness Sea,

  Shixi fluttered like a bird newly freed—

  wings wide, body light, darting through golden current.

  “YiChen, you should let her purify you every day,”

  Shixi murmured, voice drowsy and sweet with bliss.

  “It feels so good…”

  Shadowfang snorted coldly.

  “Pathetic.

  She touches you once and you fall to pieces.”

  YiChen didn’t answer.

  He braced both palms against the frozen tile,

  forehead bowed to the wall.

  Black hair hung wet around his face,

  clinging to his cheeks and neck in sodden strands.

  Water ran down his jaw,

  pooling briefly in the hollow of his collarbone

  before warming slowly against his skin.

  He didn’t dare think back.

  Didn’t dare remember

  the moment her fingertips met his chest—

  so light, so cool,

  yet trembling with quiet resolve.

  Didn’t dare remember

  how a single strand of her hair brushed his throat,

  and his entire body locked—

  tight, strung like a bow.

  But worst of all—

  he didn’t dare remember

  the way she had looked at him.

  That glow in her eyes—

  focused, unwavering,

  soft enough to drown him whole.

  ?

  She doesn’t understand.

  She didn’t know what she’d done.

  Didn’t realize the storm she had stirred in him.

  Didn’t know how close he had come to—

  The cold water crashed over his back,

  but it couldn’t douse the fire rising from within.

  He closed his eyes.

  His fingers pressed harder into the tile,

  knuckles white, trembling faintly.

  For the first time—he understood.

  It wasn’t instinct.

  Wasn’t reflex.

  Wasn’t the Spirit Force.

  It was her.

  It was wanting her.

  Raw, unrelenting.

  Not as a symbol.

  Not as someone to protect.

  But as herself.

  Wanting to hold her.

  Wanting to bury his face in her neck,

  feel her breath against his skin,

  pull her close until nothing else remained.

  The realization hit him like a blade,

  cutting through armor, leaving him bare.

  His knuckles scraped faintly against tile.

  The sound was soft—almost lost to the water.

  “Elena…”

  The name slipped from his lips,

  low and rough,

  a prayer choked in fire and restraint.

  He rested his forehead harder against the wall,

  water cascading down the bridge of his nose—

  indistinguishable now

  from the heat in his eyes.

  ?

  “What… am I supposed to do?”

  Cold water continued pouring over him.

  But his heartbeat only grew faster—

  hotter, louder,

  slamming in his chest like a relentless storm.

  And he knew—

  no amount of water

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  could cool what she had awakened in him.

  —————

  Elena sat at the edge of the bed,

  staring blankly at her palm.

  Her fingertips still tingled—

  as if they remembered everything:

  The warmth of his presence.

  The steadiness of his breathing.

  The strength she hadn’t expected—

  and the closeness she wasn’t ready for.

  Her face ignited in an instant.

  “He’s… really nice to touch…”

  The thought barely formed before her brain erupted.

  “Ah—!”

  She dove face-first into the pillow, voice muffled in a desperate scream.

  “What am I even thinking?!

  This is so embarrassing!!!”

  She strangled the pillow into a helpless ball,

  but the images only grew sharper.

  The tension in his muscles.

  The heat of his skin.

  The low, subtle shift of his Adam’s apple when she’d touched him…

  “Wait—”

  She froze.

  Her eyes blinked open, wide and startled.

  His brow—

  it had been furrowed so tightly.

  Tight enough to seem… painful.

  She had been so focused on the purification,

  so absorbed in burning away the black thorns,

  she hadn’t once paused

  to look at his face.

  Hadn’t noticed his breathing.

  Or the way he flinched.

  “Was I… too rough?”

  “Did I hurt him?”

  Guilt hit her like a splash of cold water.

  She curled forward, tucking her face between her knees,

  voice barely audible through the fabric of her sleeves.

  “Ahh… I’m sorry, YiChen…”

  “Next time… I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

  A beat of silence passed.

  Then she sat up again, fists clenched, brows drawn in sudden resolve.

  “Right!”

  “I can’t just do it without asking.”

  Last time, she had acted on instinct.

  She hadn’t even warned him.

  She’d only wanted to help—

  but ended up making him worry instead.

  Not again.

  This time, she would do it properly.

  Ask him directly.

  Let him know everything.

  And more than that—

  She looked down at her palm once more, this time with determination.

  “I have to get stronger.”

  “Train harder. Control my Spirit Force better.”

  Next time—

  she wanted to do more than just burn away the pain.

  She wanted to make sure…

  He felt nothing but comfort.

  Nothing but warmth.

  —She would do better.

  —For him.

  ————

  YiChen woke to deep night beyond the window.

  It was rare for him to sleep all the way until eight.

  But days of built-up fatigue had finally begun to loosen their grip.

  When he opened the door and stepped into the hallway,

  even his footsteps felt lighter than before.

  “Sir, would you like dinner prepared?”

  Bernard’s voice greeted him—gentle, as always.

  YiChen nodded. “Something simple is fine.”

  He was genuinely hungry, but didn’t want to trouble anyone too much.

  The chef moved quickly.

  A medium-rare ribeye was placed before him not long after—

  lightly seared, just enough to crisp the fat,

  its center a tender, blushing pink.

  The scent of browned butter and black pepper curled up from the plate,

  mingling with the crisp green of grilled asparagus and the faint bitterness of arugula.

  Smooth mashed potatoes added balance, grounding the dish in warmth and comfort.

  YiChen picked up his knife, sliced off a piece, and tasted it.

  Tender. Juicy.

  Rich enough to satisfy, but not overwhelming.

  He let out a breath.

  Finally… I feel like a living person again.

  Just then—

  light footsteps echoed at the far end of the corridor.

  He looked up.

  Elena stood beneath the soft golden light,

  wrapped in a white cotton nightgown, her hair falling gently past her shoulders.

  She hadn’t intended to disturb him—

  only peeked into the dining room quietly from a distance.

  But his senses had always been sharp.

  “Have you eaten?”

  He set down his utensils.

  “Mhm…”

  She nodded.

  When Bernard asked, she only requested a glass of warm water.

  Then, slowly, she pulled out a chair beside him.

  “I’ll… sit with you while you eat.”

  It was the first time they had ever sat down at the same table

  like ordinary people.

  YiChen resumed his meal.

  Elena held her glass and remained quiet beside him.

  She didn’t like sweets—

  but when the chef brought out molten chocolate cake,

  she still accepted a small spoonful.

  Somehow, it tasted… different tonight.

  She bit her lip.

  Fingers tightened around her glass.

  And then—

  “YiChen…”

  Her voice was soft—

  like morning dew brushed across petals.

  “This morning… did I do something wrong?”

  YiChen nearly choked on his water.

  He glanced up, startled—

  only to see her quickly lower her eyes, the tips of her ears flushed red.

  “I mean… you looked really uncomfortable…

  I thought maybe I used too much force during purification,

  or touched the wrong place…”

  Her voice got smaller and smaller.

  “If it hurt… you can tell me…”

  YiChen froze.

  His fingers curled subtly against his knee.

  She truly didn’t understand.

  Not even a little.

  She didn’t know what she’d done to him—

  how tight his body had locked beneath her touch.

  How badly he’d wanted to lose control.

  She hadn’t seen the blood rush to his fingertips,

  or the veins that nearly burst from holding himself back.

  And yet she was sitting here—

  lips trembling, afraid she’d somehow hurt him.

  Elena lifted her gaze slightly.

  Her amber eyes shimmered, uncertain, vulnerable—

  waiting for a response.

  YiChen swallowed.

  His voice, when it came, was low and steady.

  “No…

  You did very well.”

  A pause.

  Then a phone rang, breaking the silence.

  Bernard stepped forward and offered it politely.

  “Sir, your call.”

  YiChen accepted it.

  On the other end, Logan’s voice cut through immediately:

  “YiChen! A Spiritual Catastrophe just broke out on the south side!”

  ?

  Black combat uniform on, YiChen moved swiftly through the front hall.

  Elena hurried after him.

  “I can help!”

  “No.”

  His refusal was immediate.

  She stopped short.

  The brightness in her expression dimmed,

  but his voice softened a moment later.

  “Be good.

  When you’re stronger, I’ll take you with me.”

  Elena nodded quietly.

  “Mhm…

  Be careful.”

  The black sedan vanished into the night.

  She stood at the gate until the red taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

  A quiet ache bloomed in her chest—

  Still too weak.

  She turned back to her room.

  Climbed onto the bed.

  Sat cross-legged.

  And began to circulate her Spirit Force.

  “I have to become stronger.”

  “So next time…”

  “I can stand beside him.”