Chapter 281. Fire And Lightning (2)

Shu Mingye’s fingers twitched, his newly tempered blue flame flickering eagerly across his palms. It glowed faintly in the air, steady yet restless, like it was waiting for something only she could give.

"Let’s continue, Pie," he said, voice low with determination. "I’ll try to absorb part of that energy."

Linyue frowned. He looked so sure, but she wasn’t. Her lightning was still raging inside her like a storm that refused to calm, and he was the one who had just let her reshape his entire fire spiritual energy with that same storm.

“Let’s do it another time.”

“Now’s the time,” he insisted, leaning forward slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll do it slowly. Carefully.”

She stared at him. That infuriating, unshakable stubbornness was written all over his face, burning in his dark eyes. A long sigh escaped her. “Fine,” she relented. “Don’t force yourself. Just a bit at a time.”

"I know," he said, grinning smugly.

Linyue leaned forward and pecked his lips. Light. Swift. Casual. Before he could so much as blink, she had already settled back into her chair.

"Let’s start," she said casually.

Shu Mingye froze. His whole body locked up, and for a heartbeat, the only thing moving was the faint flicker of blue flame in his palm. Not because of her words. Not because of the risk they were about to take. But because of that very, very soft kiss. His mind chose that exact moment to short-circuit. His heartbeat crashed loudly in his ears. His carefully trained spiritual focus—gone. His brain was nothing but static.

He stared at her calm, composed face and cleared his throat, trying to summon back the remains of his dignity. “Right. Yes. Spiritual energy. Absorbing chaos. Not exploding.”

Linyue’s lips curved into the smallest smirk, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. She looked calm, but inside she was secretly delighted at how easily one tiny kiss could undo the terrifying King of Shulin.

He straightened his back and forced a long breath out, pushing the memory of her kiss into some far corner of his mind where it wouldn’t distract him. Right. Spiritual merging. Not Pie-kissing. Closing his eyes, he guided his newly refined blue flame forward, threading it gently into her meridian. Slowly, he began to draw the restless lightning into his own circulation.

To his surprise, it was easier this time. Her lightning didn’t snap or bite the way it had before. It hummed as it slid toward him, alive and curious, like it had personally witnessed the kiss and decided to approve of this reckless new arrangement.

Linyue’s gaze lingered on him, calm but sharp, her hand resting lightly in her lap. “How is it?” she asked softly.

Shu Mingye didn’t dare open his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “So far, I’m still alive.”

The white dog, now back from the bush and flopped down again within safe distance, groaned as if saying “That’s your baseline now?”

The night breeze moved gently around them, carrying the scent of gardenias. Lantern light glowed faintly through the leaves. The only sounds were the faint hum of their merging energies and the occasional soft snort from the spirit beast.

Shu Mingye kept his promise, pulling the chaotic energy with a patience she hadn’t expected from him, steady and deliberate, as though he meant to bear every sharp edge himself before letting it reach her. And Linyue, watching the way his brow furrowed in concentration, found herself smiling again. Things were still uncertain. Dangerous, even. But here, in the quiet garden, between their steady breaths, their shared strength, and the memory of stolen kisses, the storm inside her no longer felt so terrifying.

At least until Song Meiyu barged in with snacks and yelling, “I brought dumplings! Are you two making babies yet or—oh.”

Shu Mingye’s spiritual thread twitched dangerously.

Linyue pressed her fingers to her temple and sighed. “Another explosion might happen after all.”

In an instant, Shu Mingye pulled his energy back. His eyes snapped open and fixed on the very uninvited intruder. He should have known better than to think Linyue’s chaotic friends would stay quiet anywhere for long.

With a long sigh, he leaned back and said with absolute shamelessness. “Yes. We’re in the process of making a baby. Go away.”

Linyue choked on absolutely nothing except pure shock, her eyes flying wide in horror.

Song Meiyu gasped so loud it was almost impressive. “Then I’ll take the dog with me!”

The white dog, who had been sprawled like a fluffy rug nearby, didn’t even open its eyes. It gave a snort and rolled over, clearly committed to pretending humans didn’t exist.

Undeterred, Song Meiyu waved the steaming bundle toward the white dog. "I have meat dumplings. I can share."

The white dog's ears perked up. One moment it was a lazy rug, the next it was prancing on its paws, tail wagging wildly.

“Ha!” Song Meiyu cheered, already skipping toward the door. “Alright, you two can make babies peacefully now! Oh—how about a girl? She’ll be beautiful! Or a boy! Though he’ll probably be as shameless as you—ah! What about twins?!”

Shu Mingye groaned and pressed his fingers hard into his temples. “Leave! Before I feed you to the demons!”

Song Meiyu gasped, clutching her chest. “Truly a Demon King!” she wailed, then skipped out anyway, grinning like a menace. The white dog trotted loyally after her, clearly bribed into betrayal by dumplings.

Linyue buried her face in both hands. Her ears were red. Her cheeks were red. Her entire soul might have turned red. 

“Making babies?” she muttered into her palms. “Seriously?”

Shu Mingye leaned back, arms crossed, looking smug enough to be illegal. “Well, she was the one who asked.”

Linyue peeked through her fingers, glaring at him. “You could have just said we were cultivating.”

He looked at her with the straightest face he could manage. “Technically, we are cultivating. And technically, there is a lot of energy involved.”

“That’s not what she heard.”

“That’s not my fault,” he shrugged. “She’s the one with the cabbage-filled imagination.”

Linyue gave him a long, silent look.

Shu Mingye coughed into his fist, then added far too casually, “...But if we do have twins one day, they’ll be terrifying. One calm and logical like you. One loud and dramatic like her.”

A soft laugh slipped from Linyue as she shook her head. “And both will learn to blame you for everything.”

He grinned at that, pleased as if she had just agreed. “But first, we’ll need to build a second palace. One with actual walls. Thick ones.”

Linyue quickly covered her mouth to stifle another laugh, her shoulders trembling despite her best effort.

“Anyway,” he continued smoothly, reaching out to take her hand, “let’s continue again. The babies can wait.”

Linyue smacked his hand lightly. “Stop talking about babies.”

He smirked, utterly unbothered. “Fine. I’ll talk about it later.”

She puffed out her cheeks in frustration, pouting before shutting her eyes again.

Shu Mingye chuckled softly. Then he exhaled and closed his eyes too, letting his focus settle back into place.

Their cultivation continued, this time with no jokes or teasing. Shu Mingye focused fully, guiding her wild lightning energy into his own meridians. The moment it touched him, it was like a storm surging through his veins. Powerful. Violent. Crackling with dangerous force. He gritted his teeth and pulled in more. He had to. He wanted to lighten her burden no matter what. It had been trapped too long and now seemed determined to fight back. His chest tightened sharply. Pain throbbed through him like someone was twisting his core with both hands. Still, he didn’t stop.

His breath caught. His core twisted hard. He choked. Blood welled up and spilled from his lips. His eyes flew open as he gasped for air. The world tilted slightly. His head pounded. His whole body pulsed with her energy. So this… this was how she had been living all this time?

Linyue’s eyes snapped open. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him steady. Her face was tight with worry.

“I told you,” she scolded softly, “just a bit at a time.”

Shu Mingye coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Despite the blood, despite the pain, he still had the nerve to smirk. “I’m fine. Just got… a little too excited.”

Linyue stared at him like she couldn’t decide whether to hit him or worry harder.

His fingers trembled slightly from the sheer force of her lightning thrashing inside him. It roared through his body, scorching his meridians, biting and furious. And yet, he grinned wider. Because for the first time, he understood. He understood her suffering. And he wasn’t about to let her carry it alone.

Linyue clutched the front of his robes, her fingers twisting the fabric tight. Her voice wavered. “Stop. You’ll—”

“I know,” he cut her off. His forehead pressed gently against hers, their breaths mixing. His voice dropped low and steady. “But so will you.”