Chapter 278. Dangerous Attempt

Shu Mingye pushed open a carved screen door, and the air shifted. Linyue’s breath caught. Behind his chamber was a hidden garden, small yet breathtaking. The grass stretched out in soft, uneven patches, a little wild but clearly cared for. Blooming gardenias filled the night air with sweet fragrance. Lanterns hung from branches, glowing like fireflies. To one side, a low table and two chairs stood waiting, perfectly placed for quiet evenings and whispered secrets.

“I’ve never seen this place before,” she murmured, her voice caught between awe and disbelief.

Shu Mingye stepped onto the grass with her still in his arms, his voice rich with pride. “That’s because I had it built when we went to Luyan.”

Linyue blinked, stunned. First, he had remodeled his chamber from gloomy bachelor cave into something soft and bright. And now… an entire hidden garden. For her. Her chest ached, but not from pain. A quiet warmth spread through her heart, blooming inside her like the gardenias around them.

The white dog circled once by the flowerbeds, then plopped down with a great sigh, tail flicking lazily. It stretched out as if declaring ownership of the entire garden, as though this sanctuary had been created for its comfort instead of hers.

Shu Mingye gently set Linyue down onto a chair padded with soft cushions, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Alright. We’ll start simple. Just connect our spiritual threads. No explosions today, hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Linyue repeated, raising an eyebrow.

They sat close, knees nearly touching. The lantern light flickered over them, soft and golden. Linyue closed her eyes first. She sent out a thin strand of her lightning spiritual energy. It crackled faintly, sharp but controlled.

The white dog, lounging by the flowerbed, cracked one eye open. After observing the sparks for half a second, it shuffled a safe distance farther away, curled its tail over its nose, and pretended to sleep.

Shu Mingye exhaled steadily and called forth his fire. His thread unfurled, warm and steady, curling toward hers. The two energies floated in the space between them, close enough to hum against each other, yet not touching.

The air shimmered faintly. The garden seemed to quiet, holding its breath.

Linyue guided her lightning thread closer, cautious, letting it circle his fire without direct contact. She kept it hovering, testing, waiting.

Shu Mingye’s gaze sharpened, every bit of his attention locked onto her. The curve of her brow, the faint glow dancing on her skin, the deliberate way her lightning moved. His lips tugged into a grin. “That looks suspiciously like flirting.”

Her lashes lifted just enough for her to peek at him, calm and amused. “It is flirting.”

His chest tightened, and the grin widened helplessly. Still, his fire thread stayed steady, patient, waiting for her to close the gap. “You’re really good at teasing, Pie.”

“I had a good teacher,” she murmured with the faintest smile, her lightning thread looping lazily around his flame, close enough to warm but never to scorch.

The white dog scooted back a full meter away, eyes wide and ears flat like it expected someone’s eyebrows to be singed off.

For a while, their spiritual threads simply circled and danced in the air. Tentative. Curious. Like two wild creatures sniffing each other from a cautious distance. Neither of them truly knew what would happen once lightning and fire touched. Would it be a magnificent storm of power… or just a very loud, very embarrassing explosion?

Shu Mingye finally broke the silence. “Pie, why don’t you try sending your energy into my meridians first?”

Her eyes snapped open, sharp. “No. You first.”

He smirked. "You have better control."

She frowned, considering. Then her voice softened, slow and thoughtful. “Actually… maybe I could use my lightning to refine and compress your fire. I read about this method once from the scroll Master gave me. What do you think?”

A grin spread across his face like he had been waiting the whole night for her to say something reckless. “Are you trying to flirt with me, or electrocute me?”

Her lips curved slightly. “Both.”

The white dog yelped, scrambled back another step, and promptly hid its head under a bush.

This was either going to be a breakthrough... or a break-something-else. Either way, it wouldn’t be boring.

Shu Mingye braced one hand on his knee, his gaze never leaving her. “Alright, Pie. Go ahead. Try refining it. Just… be gentle.”

Linyue narrowed her eyes. “You’re the one made of fire. Shouldn’t I be the one asking you to be gentle?”

“I’m emotionally fragile,” Shu Mingye said with a grin. “Handle with care.”

Linyue let out a quiet laugh. She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She guided her lightning thread forward. It curled around his fire, holding it steady. Not too tight, just enough to keep it from slipping away.

In the peaceful garden, under the soft sky and the judgmental gaze of one fluffy dog, lightning and fire circled each other. Neither yielding. Neither burning out. The balance wasn’t in brute force, but in trust. And in that fragile warmth, two people began to breathe in sync.

Linyue kept her eyes closed, her voice calm. “I will begin now. I think… it will hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, Pie,” Shu Mingye replied bravely. “Don’t worry about—”

ZAP.

The instant lightning touched fire, the air cracked. Sparks burst between them, bright enough to flash against the lanterns. Shu Mingye jolted hard, shoulders twitching as the wave of heat shot up his spine. His mouth opened and the sound that escaped was… indescribable. Half cough, half squawk, like a dignified rooster struck by lightning.

Linyue’s eyes flew open. She froze, her focus breaking. “...Did I hurt you?”

Shu Mingye sat rigid, shoulders still high, his eyes staring blankly into the distance as if he had just seen his ancestors waving at him from beyond. His voice came out thin and cracked. “I’m fine, Pie. I’m just… surprised.”

The white dog sneezed loudly in the background. At some point, it had dragged a flowerpot in front of itself like a shield.

Linyue pressed her lips together, but amusement betrayed her eyes. “Are you sure? Because you sounded like a goose.”

“I’m a dignified man,” Shu Mingye said seriously, placing a hand over his chest. “And sometimes… dignified men make goose sounds under lightning pressure. It’s completely normal.”

Linyue gave him a long, flat look that spoke louder than any words. Sure. Completely normal.

“Alright,” she said, struggling not to laugh. “We’ll go slower.”

Shu Mingye gave her a cautious thumbs-up, his pride still limping back to life. “Thank you. Please proceed… with mercy.”

So once again, lightning met fire. This time awkwardly, but with a bit more understanding. One spark at a time.

Shu Mingye sat perfectly still, his hands gripping his knees. Every time her lightning pressed against his fire, a sharp jolt ran down his back. His jaw tightened so much he thought he heard it creak. But he stayed silent, refusing to make another goose noise in front of her.

Linyue’s brow furrowed. She could feel his energy resisting at first, but he wasn’t fighting her. He was just enduring. Slowly, her lightning thread worked its way through his meridian, testing, refining, trying to keep from hurting him too much.

Another spark cracked. His body gave the smallest twitch, a single muscle jerking in his cheek. His jaw clenched harder, like he was determined to crush something with his teeth.

“Too stubborn for his own good,” Linyue thought, lips pressed thin as she focused. “Is he really trying to wrestle lightning into submission with jaw strength?”

Meanwhile, Shu Mingye’s mind was anything but calm. It burned. It stung. His meridians felt like they were being boiled alive in some terrible soup. But he refused to stop her. If she could endure worse, then so could he.

Neither of them spoke, but every time her lightning brushed against his fire, she noticed his shoulders stiffen, as if he were fighting the urge to yelp.

She paused, frowning at him. “If you make another weird noise, I’ll stop.”

Shu Mingye, who had just barely swallowed back a strangled sound, cracked one eye open. “Weird noise? I didn’t make any weird noise.”

Linyue raised one eyebrow. “You chirped earlier.”

“I did not chirp. That was… a bird passing by.”

From the side, the white dog let out a loud snort, clearly unconvinced, then stuffed its face back into its tail.

Linyue sighed, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “One more time?”

Shu Mingye nodded bravely. “I’m ready. Hit me again.”