Chapter 277. Dangerous Proposal

The moment Linyue opened her eyes again, she found herself exactly where she both expected and didn’t expect to be.

In Shu Mingye’s arms.

She blinked slowly, trying to make sense of it. Impressive, truly. He hadn’t budged an inch. Was he glued to her or something? It seemed he had stayed in the same position since the moment she collapsed. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Years?

…Alright, probably not years. The white dog didn’t look that much fatter.

Her body still ached, her spiritual energy still stirred like a storm beneath her skin, but she had gotten used to it. At least she could breathe now. At least she could think. That was progress. She tilted her head up slightly. Shu Mingye’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep and steady. Asleep. In this exact posture. Half sitting, half hugging, all brooding. Who even slept like this? Stubborn man.

Her gaze wandered around the room slowly. No longer in the carriage. This wasn’t just any room. This was his room. His chamber. And everything in it looked… different.

Soft bedding beneath her, curtains of pale silk framing the bed, polished tables and chairs that looked brand new. The air even smelled faintly of sandalwood and something crisp, almost like new wood.

Her brows lifted. Had he actually remodeled his entire room while she was unconscious?

She stared at the pale curtains, the light-colored rugs, the furniture that was suspiciously cheerful for a man famous for darkness and fire.

New bed. New table. New chair. New curtains.

She pressed her lips together. What was this? New wife, new furniture?

Her gaze slid to the foot of the bed. The white fluffy dog was curled into a perfect ball, snoring softly and twitching like it was chasing rabbits in its dreams. She shook her head faintly. Even divine beasts had no dignity when asleep.

Before she could look away, Shu Mingye shifted. His arm tightened gently around her waist. His voice, low and rough with sleep, brushed against her ear. “Pie, you woke up.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable?”

“It’s bearable,” she said truthfully.

“Then yes.”

Her brows knit together. “Yes what?”

“Yes, you’re going to stay right here,” he murmured, eyes still shut. “I changed the entire room for you. The old one didn’t suit my married life. Too bachelor. Too gloomy. Now it suits you. Bright and soft.”

Linyue blinked, caught between amusement and disbelief. “Are we… really married?”

“Mhm,” Shu Mingye replied without hesitation.

“When?”

“In Xuanyi Pavilion,” he said proudly. “With your masters’ blessing. Prince Lu also came. He finally stopped pestering you with proposals.”

Linyue’s lips parted. She stared at him, stunned. “When I was unconscious?”

“Mhm,” he answered again, so casually it was maddening.

She kept staring. Did he really just marry her while she was half-dead? That was either the most romantic thing ever, or the most unhinged. Her frown deepened as she tried to wrap her aching head around it.

Shu Mingye opened his eyes and caught her expression. Immediately, his gaze sharpened. “You don’t like it? Are you already thinking about divorce? It’s too late. I won’t accept divorce.” His arms tightened around her, possessive and dramatic.

Linyue sighed softly. “No. I just thought it’s a shame. I didn’t even get to pretend to be a runaway bride.”

That woke him up. He sat up a little, scandalized. “What? You were planning to run away on our wedding day?!”

“Well,” she said with a weak shrug, “just for fun.”

His jaw dropped. “Fun? You think abandoning me in front of the entire pavilion counts as fun?!”

Her eyes sparkled faintly with mischief despite her pale face. “I imagine it would have been dramatic. I’d run. You’d chase. Everyone gasps. Maybe lightning in the background.”

Shu Mingye scoffed, clearly offended. “If that really happened, I would have chained you to the bed.”

At the foot of the bed, the white dog stretched, gave a long-suffering sigh, and shoved its head beneath a pillow as if it couldn’t bear to witness any more of this conversation.

Linyue chuckled softly, but the sound faded when Shu Mingye suddenly shifted beside her. His expression grew oddly serious. “I actually have something I want to discuss with you,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow, half smiling. “You didn’t even discuss our wedding with me. Now suddenly you want to discuss something?”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a grin, but his tone stayed serious. “This is even more serious than the wedding.”

Linyue gave him a long, skeptical look. “What could possibly be more serious than you marrying me while I was unconscious and on the brink of death?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, just… hear me out. And don’t say no right away.”

Linyue frowned. “It sounds suspicious.”

“It’s actually dangerous,” he added quickly.

Her frown deepened. “That’s not helping your case.”

The white dog gave a muffled snort into the pillow, as if agreeing with her.

“Just listen first, Pie.”

“Fine. Speak, my adorable and emotionally unstable husband.”

Shu Mingye’s eyes narrowed at the “emotionally unstable” part, but he let it go with visible effort. “There’s a way to stabilize the rampaging spiritual energy in your body.”

Linyue exhaled slowly. “I was planning to do it slowly, over time…”

He shook his head, sharp and certain. “No. It will destroy you if you let it run wild too long. That dog helped absorb some of it, but that’s only a temporary fix.”

She glanced down at the white fluff sprawled across her feet, still snoring like the laziest divine beast in existence. It twitched its ear as if to say, do not expect overtime from me.

“There’s a way I can help you fully recover,” he said gently, almost coaxing.

Linyue tilted her head. “How?”

His jaw tightened. “…Dual cultivation.”

Linyue blinked. “...What?”

He cleared his throat. “Dual cultivation. It’s when two cultivators work together to—”

“I know what it is,” she cut in quickly, eyes fixed on him. Her voice was steady, but her gaze betrayed a flicker of unease. “But it’s dangerous. We have different elements.”

Shu Mingye nodded. “I know. That’s why it’s risky. I wouldn’t suggest it unless it was the only way left.”

Linyue bit her lip. The ache in her chest tightened. “But if we fail, you will…”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “Your lightning is strong. It could fry me into crispy pieces.” His mouth curved faintly, almost teasing, though his eyes were serious. “But Pie, how many times do I have to tell you? You can break me, but you can’t be broken.”

Her brows furrowed. “But I don’t want to break you.”

He leaned forward until their foreheads touched, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you know that time your energy burst out? It didn’t hurt me. It didn’t even hurt the others. It actually cleansed our meridians. Reignited our spiritual energy. It destroyed that red, corrupted energy.”

She hesitated, doubt flickering in her gaze. “But still…”

He held up a finger. “Your loud gossipy friend broke through to peak stage because of it.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie about that kind of thing? She immediately shouted it across the forest. You were asleep, so you were spared.”

A small laugh slipped out of her. “She would.”

At the foot of the bed, the white dog lifted its head just long enough to sneeze loudly, then flopped back down as if declaring, finally, they’re talking sense.

“She did,” Shu Mingye said, ignoring the interruption. He cupped Linyue’s face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Pie, we can try it carefully. You have control over your energy. I’ve trained my spiritual sense too. If anyone can make this work, it’s us.”

Linyue stared at him for a long moment. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re really serious about this?”

Shu Mingye nodded firmly. “Yes. Very serious. Scientific. Cultivational.”

Her brow arched higher. “So it’s not just because you want to dual cultivate with your wife in bed.”

He blinked. “...That’s just a bonus.”

She burst out laughing, the sound soft but bright, and his lips curved into a helpless smile at the sight.

“So, is that a yes?” he asked quickly.

Linyue exhaled, shaking her head. “Fire and lightning. It’s dangerous.”

“Let’s give it a try first,” he coaxed, voice low and persuasive. “Just a small attempt. Okay?”

“…Fine. I guess,” she muttered.

“Good. Then let’s try it now.”

Her head snapped toward him. “…Now?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “The faster, the better.”

Before Linyue could protest, he swept her straight into his arms. She let out a startled breath, glaring at him weakly, but he was already striding toward the back of the chamber.

The white dog, woken from its nap, blinked once, yawned, and then trotted after them at a slow pace. Its fluffy tail swayed with such ridiculous elegance that it looked like the entire procession was being held under its command.