Xueya’s breathing was the first thing Lin Tian heard when he woke. Not the frantic, uneven gasps from last night, but something softer—still unsteady, still fragile, but no longer desperate. The morning light filtered into the room in thin streaks, brushing lightly across her pale cheeks and the faint color returning to them.
Lin Tian straightened beside the bed. He hadn’t truly slept; his body reacted to every small change in her breathing, every shift in her fingers, every tremor that passed through her. Now, even though dawn had come, his mind stayed sharp and clear.
A small sound escaped her lips.
"...Tian..."
Her eyelashes fluttered, then lifted slowly. Her eyes took a moment to focus on him, hazy with exhaustion. For a heartbeat she looked confused—like she expected him to be somewhere else—then her gaze softened.
"You’re... still here?" she murmured.
Lin Tian let out a quiet breath. "Where else should I be?"
Xueya lowered her gaze, tension forming gently in her shoulders. "You shouldn’t worry this much. You only just stabilized your cultivation."
"That doesn’t matter."
She tried to sit up, but her arm gave out the moment she put weight on it. Lin Tian caught her immediately, steadying her without hesitation. Her body stiffened from embarrassment, fingers curling in the blanket.
"I can manage," she whispered.
"I know," he said softly. "But you don’t have to."
Her lashes dropped, hiding the emotion flickering in her eyes—shame, frustration, and the quiet fear of being seen so weak.
"I thought it would pass like before," she whispered. "I didn’t think it would get this bad."
"How long has this been happening?"
Xueya hesitated—but only for a moment.
"...A few days," she admitted quietly.
Lin Tian’s jaw tightened. "So you weren’t honest with me yesterday."
She looked away. "I didn’t want you to see me like this."
There was no anger in her voice. Only a quiet guilt that weighed heavier than any injury.
Lin Tian studied her closely—the faint blue tint at her fingertips, the subtle tremor in her breath, the pallor beneath her skin. The frost that once clung to her body had disappeared, but she looked even more fragile now.
Before he could speak, the door slid open.
Elder Mei entered with brisk steps, a tray of herbs in hand. The moment she saw Xueya upright, her stern expression softened with relief—but only for a breath before she masked it again.
"You’re awake," Elder Mei said, taking a seat beside the bed. She reached for Xueya’s wrist, and Xueya offered it without protest.
Elder Mei pressed her fingers gently against the pulse point, eyes narrowing slightly as she felt the unstable rhythm beneath. Her brows drew into a deep line.
"Your Yin qi is still fluctuating," she said. "More severely than before."
Xueya’s fingers tightened around the blanket. "How long do I have to rest?"
"Rest won’t fix this," Elder Mei answered.
Lin Tian’s heart sank. "What do you mean?"
Elder Mei looked between them, her tone calm but grave.
"If this instability continues for another week," she said, "your core will suffer damage. And once that begins, recovery becomes uncertain."
Xueya’s breath hitched. Her lips parted, shock flickering across her usually composed face.
"A... week?"
"Your physique is too strong for your current realm," Elder Mei explained. "Your Yin energy is accumulating faster than your body can circulate it. If it keeps building with no release, it will force its way through your meridians—and crush them."
Xueya lowered her head slowly, shoulders sinking.
Elder Mei raised a finger.
"There are three possible remedies."
"One," she said, "is Ice-Lotus Dew. Extremely rare. Even if we request it now, we cannot guarantee its arrival in time."
She raised a second finger.
"Two: I can suppress the instability temporarily. But this only slows the damage. It cannot reverse it."
Then her third finger lifted.
"Three: You need a compatible external qi source to counter your Yin overflow."
The room grew still.
Xueya lowered her gaze before Elder Mei even finished the implication. She knew exactly what that meant.
Lin Tian felt his chest tighten—not from embarrassment, but from fear. Fear of what would happen to her if they failed. Fear of letting her face this alone.
Xueya inhaled slowly. "Thank you, Elder Mei. I understand."
Elder Mei stood. "I’ll prepare what I can. For now, do not cultivate alone." Her eyes shifted to Lin Tian. "Stay with her. She shouldn’t be left unattended."
She left without waiting for a reply.
Silence settled again.
Xueya pulled the blanket closer around her chest, her eyes fixed on her trembling hands.
"You don’t need to involve yourself in this," she whispered. "This is my burden... not yours."
Lin Tian looked at her—not the peerless prodigy, not the icy genius the city admired, but the girl sitting before him, exhausted and frightened, trying to hide it behind calm words.
"You’re my fiancée," he said quietly. "My future wife. How can this not involve me?"
Her lips parted slightly.
"You’ve only just started cultivating," she murmured. "You finally have a chance to grow. I don’t want to hold you down."
"You’re not holding me down."
"You can’t know that."
"I do," Lin Tian said simply.
She swallowed, lashes trembling. When he reached forward to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Xueya flinched—a soft, startled sound escaping her before she could stop it.
Her cheeks warmed. "Don’t look at me right now... I’m not—presentable."
"Nothing about you is ugly," he said. "Not to me."
Her breath caught. She lowered herself back slowly, unable to hide how much the words affected her.
"I don’t want you to feel trapped," Xueya whispered. "Like my condition forces you to—"
"It doesn’t," Lin Tian said before she could finish. "If I stay, it’s because I choose to."
Her eyes widened–just a little.
They stayed like that for a while, the soft steam from Elder Mei’s herbs filling the air. Xueya’s breathing steadied, though her color remained pale.
Lin Tian rested his hand over hers.
’She carried this pain alone. She hid it because she didn’t want to burden anyone.’
His thumb brushed her knuckles gently.
’I won’t let her face it like this again.’
Just then—
A familiar, cold whisper echoed in his mind.
[ Partner’s Yin qi instability remains severe ]
[ Recommended remedy: Dual cultivation is the most effective method of balancing Yin overflow ]
[ Further delay risks lasting damage ]
The screen faded.
Lin Tian’s breath slowed. He stared at Xueya—at the trembling in her fingers, the fragile look in her eyes, the weight she tried so hard to hide.
"...Xueya," he whispered.
She looked up at him, tired and vulnerable.
"I won’t let you break."
Her eyes softened. Her fingers curled around his hand.
For the first time, she didn’t try to hide how scared she was.
End of Chapter 14