【Mei Fang Tower】
Ever since the incident at Xunhua Tower, Chu Wanran had been unconscious for three full days.
Li Xuan stayed by the bedside, not leaving even a single step. His fingertips repeatedly brushed Chu Wanran’s forehead. That scorching temperature was like a red-hot brand, almost burning through his skin, yet for three days there had been no sign of it lessening.
“He’s still burning…”
Li Xuan murmured to himself, his brows tightly furrowed, eyes filled with uncontrollable anxiety and heartache.
“Xunhua Tower’s poison has already been cleared… why is the fever not going down? Could there still be residual toxins… so persistent that even pills cannot suppress it?”
Chu Wanran’s breathing was heavy and hot, his chest rising and falling violently. Every exhale carried burning heat, as if invisible flames were consuming his organs.
Even in unconsciousness, his brows were tightly locked, teeth clenched, his face showing unbearable pain.
Sweat dripped down his temples, soaking the pillow into dark patches.
Li Xuan made a decision without hesitation.
He knew Chu Wanran could not hold on much longer like this. Ordinary cooling methods were useless—only a risky approach remained.
He slowly removed his outer robe and carefully lay down beside him.
The moment he got close, he was startled by the heat of the body.
His naturally cold constitution, skin like jade cooled by a thousand-year spring, became the only thing that could counter this burning fever.
He wrapped his arms around Chu Wanran.
Cold skin pressed against scorching flesh. Chu Wanran’s body trembled violently, then instinctively tightened his grip, pulling Li Xuan into an embrace so tight it seemed he might be crushed into his bones.
He buried his face into Li Xuan’s neck, hot breath falling against cool skin, filled with unconscious dependence.
“Hot… so hot…”
Li Xuan’s heart tightened painfully.
He could feel the suffering clearly. That heat was not only burning Chu Wanran’s body—it was burning him too.
On the bedside table was a bowl of iced water he had prepared.
He took a sip first, letting the cold spread through his mouth, then leaned down and pressed his lips to Chu Wanran’s.
He fed the cold water across their mouths, while simultaneously guiding a strand of pure cleansing energy into Chu Wanran’s meridians, attempting to suppress the lingering heat and hidden disturbance.
Chu Wanran swallowed instinctively, but his brows only furrowed deeper, as if dragged into a darker dream.
He returned to his childhood.
It was once a peaceful village wrapped in greenery, but due to war and political strife, it became engulfed in blood and flames.
The attackers were not bandits—but soldiers and officers claiming to defend the nation.
They plundered food, looted homes, and committed countless atrocities under the chaos of war.
Summer sunlight once filtered through leaves, casting peaceful shadows over the village.
But that peace shattered in an instant.
Soldiers and armed cultivators arrived like starving wolves, raiding homes, taking food, and forcing villagers into submission. Any resistance was met with violence.
The village descended into hell.
Chu Wanran’s father was killed while trying to protect his family.
His mother was also brutally attacked and ultimately killed while trying to shield her children.
Everything collapsed.
His sister grabbed him and ran.
Behind them, the village burned.
Screams filled the air.
Homes collapsed.
Blood stained the ground.
Those once-familiar villagers lay dead or humiliated across the streets.
A kind older brother who once shared food with him lay broken and dying.
A cheerful girl who once joked about marriage lay lifeless outside her home.
Everything warm and alive was destroyed.
They fled, but even the next village had already been massacred.
Pursuers caught up.
In desperation, his sister hid him inside a wooden cabinet in an abandoned house.
“Don’t come out. No matter what you hear, don’t come out.”
She smiled through tears, telling him to live on.
Then she closed the cabinet door.
Outside, the door was kicked open.
He heard voices, violence, screams.
And then—
Silence.
When everything ended, the man left, calling it “boring.”
Inside the cabinet, Xiao Ran broke completely.
He cried until exhaustion swallowed him.
Eventually, he fell asleep in the darkness.
A sleep that marked the end of everything he once had.
—
In the darkness, Chu Wanran slowly opened his eyes.
His memory was fragmented—only recalling the mission at Xunhua Tower and the chaos afterward.
Before him stood a heavy double wooden door.
He walked forward and pushed it open.
Inside—
His sister lay lifeless, her body covered in wounds, eyes still open in eternal despair.
And his younger self was still hiding in the cabinet, powerless, watching everything.
“—Sister!!!”