He truly admired her for that.
Her willpower, her refusal to give up. Her life was something very few could endure. He liked her mostly because of that. Strong, independent, unafraid to move forward.
She wasn't something to be kept at one's side like a pretty vase. She was someone who should rise alongside him, who should shine—and Long Chen would take the initiative to help her do so.
"She really is perfect. In personality, appearance, and talent. A Goddess!"
He watched her for a long moment, imprinting her image into his memory: the curve of her neck, the way her chest rose and fell with each controlled breath, the tension in her furrowed brows.
She was incredibly beautiful.
Taking a deliberate step out of the shadows, he stepped on a dry twig.
"Crack!~"
The sound pierced the silence of the forest.
The sharp snap made Xiao Ning'er react.
In the blink of an eye, she was on her feet, her meditative state replaced by sharp combat readiness. A silver dagger appeared in her hand as if by magic, the blade gleaming coldly in the filtered light. Her eyes glinted coldly, completely on guard.
"Who's there?" her voice rang out, cold as the steel in her hand.
From the shadows, Long Chen emerged. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, a disarming smile on his face. "Calm down, calm down. It's just me, your classmate."
"Hm?" Xiao Ning'er narrowed her eyes.
She recognized him from the warrior apprentice class. Long Chen, the boy who sat a bit in front of her. But... something was different. She looked more closely...
There were a few changes in him that hadn't been there before. He seemed taller... more confident, perhaps?
The smile on his lips wasn't like that of a brat gawking at her, but rather warm and self-assured. For some disconcerting reason, she felt her heart skip a beat, a strong and unexpected thump against her ribs. He was... more handsome than she remembered.
'What am I thinking!?' Xiao Ning'er shook her head, pushing the useless thoughts away.
She forced her cold composure back, the dagger held firmly in her hand. "What are you doing here? This place is secluded, and it's already occupied by me."
"Exactly why I came," he said, his smile widening slightly, revealing perfectly aligned teeth. "I was looking for some demon beasts to hunt, away from the crowd. The Horned Sheep seem to have vanished from the main field."
"Humph!" she snorted.
The excuse was plausible. She didn't doubt his words, but her instinct to be alone was stronger. "Very well. Now leave. I want to continue my cultivation."
Long Chen's smile froze, but he nodded—yet he didn't move. Instead, his gaze turned more serious, more insightful. "Continue your cultivation? I believe you shouldn't be doing that. Not with your illness."
What!?
The blood in Xiao Ning'er's veins turned cold. "What are you talking about?"
"I believe you sometimes feel a chill that seems to come from within your bones, especially at night," he began, his voice calm and factual, each word like a hammer blow to the icy armor she had built around herself.
"But at the same time, your meridians feel like they're burning, especially in your legs, forcing you to train barefoot for some relief. It gets worse around midnight, when the pain is terrible, like a thousand ice needles piercing you all at once. And… there are the bruises. Dark marks that won't heal, that hurt to the touch and seem to spread slowly across your body…"
"How is that possible—"
Xiao Ning'er's jaw dropped.
The shock stole her voice. He had described perfectly the secret hell she lived with every day. No one knew. No doctor, no alchemist in the city had ever even managed to diagnose it. She hadn't even told any of her family. So how did he know?
"How… how do you know that?" she whispered, the fear of the unknown outweighing her anger.
Long Chen smiled, still keeping his distance.
"What you have is called Arctic Disease," he said gently. "And if left untreated, you'll be lucky to only lose all of your cultivation. In most cases… it's fatal."
Fatal!
The word echoed in her mind.
The fear turned to cold panic. Her fate, the one she had fought so hard to avoid—a forced marriage to the despicable Shen Fei, a pawn in her family's political game—would be replaced by death? Or worse, complete weakness? The hand holding the dagger trembled and dropped to her side. She put the blade away, the gesture an admission of defeat.
Her tear-filled eyes met Long Chen's.
She forced the words out, her throat tight. "You... you know how to cure it?" If he knew the name and the symptoms with just one look, he had to know. He was her only hope.
"Of course I do! There are actually a few ways," Long Chen said, finally taking a few cautious steps toward her. With her guard lowered, he could approach more easily.
However, as he got closer, he suddenly stopped, a genuine look of surprise on his face. He tilted his head, his eyes focusing on her with new intensity. "This is... interesting. I can feel a familiar energy coming from you."
"What do you mean?" Xiao Ning'er murmured, thinking about raising her guard again, but ultimately not doing so when she saw his serious eyes.
Long Chen's gaze dropped to her ankle, where a dark purple bruise—one he already knew was there—stained her pale skin. "It's coming from there… and if I'm not mistaken… there's another under your clothes, on your rib, right?"
She shuddered, shocked that he knew the exact location.
"This cold energy," he murmured, sensing it as deeply familiar.
'Yes, I'm sure! It's very similar to the energy Xiao Xue cultivates. And… it's almost identical to the energy that fills my body when I'm fused with the Spirit Fox.' He murmured under his breath, just loud enough for himself to hear.
Long Chen then looked at Xiao Ning'er, his eyes gleaming with sudden insight. "I think... I can absorb that energy directly from your body."
He explained the situation to her, his voice free of any malice, now only filled with genuine curiosity, replacing his earlier plans. "This would, however, require direct contact with the skin, at the sites of the bruises. Would you be comfortable with that?"
Xiao Ning'er's face flushed violently. A stranger, a classmate, asking to touch her in such intimate places? But then, the smug face of Shen Fei flashed through her mind. The resignation, the pain, the life of servitude that awaited her. Anything was better than that. She looked at Long Chen—for his serious and confident eyes—and made her decision.
"I... I agree," she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
She sat down again on the moss, and he sat in front of her. With a gentleness that surprised her, he lightly took hold of her ankle. She shivered, feeling his warm skin against her cold one.
"This might hurt a little," he warned. "Try not to think about it."
"En!" Xiao Ning'er nodded, biting her lip.
Long Chen noticed her nervousness and decided to find a topic to calm her down gradually.
"Tell me, why do you train so hard? Do you have a goal?" he asked, his voice soft as his other hand covered the bruise completely.
The moment his palm touched the bruise, Xiao Ning'er felt a sharp, cold pain shoot through her entire leg.
"Ah!" A moan escaped her lips before she could hold it back, leaving her face even redder, unsure if it was from the pain or the embarrassment of the sound.
Long Chen stopped immediately. Seeing the sweat on her forehead, he pulled a small jar from his storage ring. "Here. Drink some of this. It's Spiritual Honey. It'll calm your mind and warm your body."
"En! Thank you." Xiao Ning'er hesitated for a moment, but ended up accepting it timidly.
She held the jar in her cold hands and took a small sip directly. 'Delicious!' she thought, wondering silently where he had gotten it.
The sweet, warm liquid slid down her throat, spreading comforting warmth through her entire body. As she drank, she caught him looking away for a second, his eyes fixed on her lips before quickly regaining his composure. That brief moment, however, made her blush even more.
"Better?" he asked, his smile returning.
She nodded.
"Good. Let's continue." He resumed the contact. "You didn't answer my question. A goal?"
"I... I want to be strong," she said, her voice trembling, trying to focus on the conversation. "Strong enough to control my own fate."
"A noble goal," said Long Chen, keeping eye contact. He then continued, "With enough strength, you gain choices. With your talent, once you're healed, the sky's the limit."
She nodded, avoiding his gaze.
He kept talking to her, his voice a calm and captivating murmur, asking about her techniques, praising her perseverance. And Xiao Ning'er found herself responding, getting lost in the conversation, in the warmth of his hand and the glow of his eyes. The charm that emanated from him was a gentle current, slowly pulling her away from the pain.
"All right, the first one's done." He smiled.
When he finally removed his hand from her ankle, she blinked, surprised. The pain was gone. She looked down. The ugly, dark bruise had completely vanished, leaving only her clear, flawless skin.
"Wow…"
"One more left," he said, his voice a bit lower now.
She nodded, her heart pounding.
With trembling fingers, she began untying the upper part of her blue robes. The fabric loosened, revealing the skin of her torso and a purple silk bra that barely contained her breasts. Long Chen swallowed hard but quickly redirected his gaze to the target: another dark bruise, just below the curve of her left breast.
"With your permission," he asked, his eyes seeking hers.
After she gave a silent nod, he leaned forward. Xiao Ning'er shuddered violently when she felt the warmth of his palm directly on the sensitive skin of her rib.
She bit her lip hard, watching him closely. Long Chen closed his eyes, focused. This bruise was far worse than the other. The energy inside her wasn't much, but if it lost control, it could cause massive internal damage. The pain would be multiplied by hundreds or even thousands.
So he was much more careful.
Meanwhile, Xiao Ning'er opened her eyes and blushed even deeper when she noticed his face was so close to hers.
Wow! He was even more handsome up close.
His fair skin seemed to glow, and his dark hair was silky, his long lashes resting gently on his cheek… That was when she noticed it. Above his forehead, hidden among the black strands, was a single, distinct lock of pure white hair. It looked strangely out of place in that sea of black, and a smile escaped her lips.
She felt a sudden, strange impulse. Her hand lifted, fingers longing to touch that anomaly, to feel if it was as soft as it looked. But she stopped halfway, quickly pulling her hand back, her face burning all the way to her ears.
Without knowing why she had done that, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. That small movement seemed to stir Long Chen, who had been focused—his eyes opening and meeting her clear ones.