Chapter 280. Fire And Lightning (1)

Shen Zhenyu spoke in his usual calm tone. “Soup Man notified the northern states about how to cure them. But as expected, no one could do what Linyue or Shu Mingye did.” He glanced at Linyue before continuing. “So they burned the books. And the people.”

Song Meiyu froze mid-bite, then choked on her mooncake. “They what!?”

“They had no choice,” Shen Zhenyu said evenly. “It was too dangerous. The west did the same. But the capital…” He paused for a moment, his expression tightening. “The capital is the real problem.”

Linyue leaned forward. “What’s wrong with the capital?”

“Just like what happened before,” Shen Zhenyu said, his voice dropping lower. “They disappeared. No records. No evidence. Just gone.”

He Yuying let out a soft sigh. “Convenient.”

“Some say the imperial guards took them,” Shen Zhenyu added. “For safety reasons. After that, no more updates.”

“Imperial guards?” Song Meiyu repeated, frowning hard. “So the emperor gave the order?”

Shen Zhenyu nodded once.

Song Meiyu tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe… he’s trying to cure them in secret?”

“Then why didn’t anyone come back?” Shen Zhenyu asked gently.

Before anyone could answer, the white dog, who had been snoring in the corner like it had no interest in mortal affairs, suddenly sneezed loudly.

Everyone turned to look.

Linyue narrowed her eyes. “Even the dog thinks that’s suspicious.”

Song Meiyu gasped. “Or maybe he sneezed because Brother Yuying’s plum smells like feet.”

He Yuying stopped mid-bite, looking offended. “This is aged plum! It’s refined!”

Song Meiyu shrugged. “Refined feet, then.”

He Yuying mumbled something under his breath and defiantly ate the rest of the plum in one bite.

Linyue laughed softly, the sound slipping out before she could stop it. Yet even as warmth lingered in her chest, her mind was already turning. Disappearing angry cabbages, silent imperial guards, and an emperor who might or might not know what he was doing. Nothing was simple anymore. But at least she wasn’t facing it alone.

The door connected to the study creaked open. Shu Mingye stepped inside, his presence filling the room before he even crossed halfway. The moment his eyes landed on Linyue, the three visitors reacted immediately. Song Meiyu, He Yuying, and Shen Zhenyu bolted to their feet and slipped out without a word. By the time Shu Mingye reached the bed, the room was quiet, the door clicking shut behind them.

In one smooth motion, he swept Linyue into a hug and kissed her forehead with enough intensity to make Song Meiyu faint if she had still been there.

“Did you miss me?” he murmured into her hair, his voice low, smug, and warm all at once.

Linyue tilted her head up, her lips curving softly. “I miss you.”

His smirk deepened, satisfied. “Good. I miss you too.”

But he didn’t stop at words. He climbed onto the bed, pulled her fully into his arms, and tucked her against his chest. “Are you tired?” he asked gently.

Linyue leaned into his warmth. “I didn’t even do anything.”

Shu Mingye nodded as if this was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Good. Then you have enough energy to try again.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. Dual cultivation. He was determined to make it work and fast. So she met his eyes and gave a small nod. “Let’s do it.”

In the next moment, he scooped her up again like a husband carrying his delicate bride to see the moonlight. The white dog, who seemed to believe it was part of every important family event, stretched lazily and trotted after them.

Shu Mingye set her down gently on the cushioned chair in the back garden, right beneath the blooming gardenias. Their white petals seemed to glow faintly in the fading sunset, filling the air with sweet fragrance. Shu Mingye sat across from her, close enough that their knees brushed, and let out a slow breath.

“Let’s start,” he said quietly, his voice steady but serious. Then he closed his eyes, ready to let her electrocute his soul again. For love, of course.

Linyue closed her eyes too and focused. Her lightning thread slipped free, hovering carefully just above his meridian. His fire felt different now. Denser. More refined. All those days of tempering had forged it stronger. Maybe this method would work. Hopefully without either of them exploding into a very romantic crater.

She pressed her lightning in, slow and steady. Each movement was careful and controlled. Then she felt it. His fire spiritual thread moved. Not pulling back. Not just responding. It slithered forward, bold and uninvited, straight into her meridian.

Linyue’s eyes didn’t open, but her whole body went stiff. Her meridian was not a peaceful place. Inside was a raging storm, loud and violent. One wrong move and his fire would burn out. Or worse, he would fry like a stubborn man poking a lightning. But she trusted him. She said nothing. No protest. No warnings. Just a quiet breath as she kept going.

Now their energy was cycling. Back and forth. Her lightning compressed his fire, coiling it gently again and again. And his fire pushed into hers with steady heat, bold but strangely careful at the same time.

The white dog, from a very safe distance behind a flower bush, peeked out with one wide eye and slowly sank back down with a suspicious grunt.

Maybe this time they would actually succeed. Or end up very crispy.

Shu Mingye could feel it happening. His fire was changing. Sharper and stronger. The pain from her refining touch was still there, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Or maybe he was just used to being barbecued by now. That was probably what love felt like.

Then he sensed it. The violent storm still trapped deep in her meridian. His jaw tightened. If they didn’t succeed, that storm would tear her apart sooner or later. So he made a bold move. He pushed his spiritual thread deeper into hers. This time, he didn’t hover or circle politely. He reached out and grabbed it. His fire twined firmly around her lightning, wrapping it in place. Bold. Risky. Dumb, maybe. But necessary.

The moment they touched, sparks flared. His chest burned. Heat shot through his bones and deep behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth hard to stay still. She must have felt it too, but she didn’t pull back. Her lightning didn’t reject his flame. It let him in. That trust hit him harder than the pain. His chest ached, but in a way that almost felt good. So he pressed farther. Slowly, he coiled tighter around her energy. The two forces pushed and pulled at each other.

Then it happened. A piece of her lightning fused with his flame. Not all of it. Just a spark. But it was enough. Enough to begin. Shu Mingye guided that spark carefully, steady even as his chest felt tight. He pressed more of his fire into her lightning. Slowly, under the pressure of her power and his determination, his red flame compressed. It shifted. It changed. And turned into something new.

A brilliant blue.

He froze. His eyes opened just a little. Across from him, Linyue still had her eyes closed, lips pressed together in focus. The storm inside her hadn’t exploded. Nothing shattered. Instead, it moved. Their energy danced, cycling gently. His into hers, hers into his. Like breathing. Like a quiet heartbeat.

Behind them, the white dog peeked out again. After watching for two seconds, it dragged its pillow even farther away. Just in case.

Shu Mingye kept going. He pushed more of his now-blue flame into the storm trapped inside her. That storm had been there too long. It had made her suffer. He wanted to take it in. To share the weight. To steady the wild chaos that had tormented her all this time. The moment his flame pushed into that storm—

BOOM.

A heavy force slammed into his chest. It was sharp and suffocating. His breath caught, but he pressed forward. He guided the storm with his flame, wrapping, curling, shaping it. His heart felt like it was on fire again. No. Not fire. Something worse. Lightning fire. It was too spicy to describe. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. Then his spiritual energy snapped.

BOOM.

A pulse of power blasted out from between them. Loud. Bright. Definitely not subtle. The air shook. The windows rattled. The white dog let out an undignified yelped and flew three meters straight into a bush.

Shu Mingye gasped. Blue fire crackled around him. But it wasn’t just fire anymore. It howled. It moved like a storm.

A blue flame. Fierce. Clean. Pure.

He didn’t feel pain. He felt light and strong. Stronger than he ever was before. He opened his eyes and saw her.

His pie. Awake. Alive. Staring at him like he was the most ridiculous and amazing thing in the world. He smiled, still panting slightly. “We did it,” Shu Mingye said.

“We exploded.”

“Productively,” he added proudly.

In the bush, the white dog groaned and flopped onto its side in defeat.