Tianyin couldn’t sleep.
She lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the curtain that divided the two sides of the chamber.
She could hear everything.
Every sound.
Every noise.
The door opening.
Footsteps entering.
The rustle of fabric as Yanlong removed his robe.
The sound of his belt sliding free, leather against silk.
The quiet breath he let out as he extinguished the last candles on his side.
Then silence.
A living silence.
Tianyin pulled the blanket over her head, as though it could block out those sounds.
As though it could stop her mind from imagining everything happening beyond the curtain.
What’s happening to me?
I’m going crazy.
The hours passed.
Tianyin tossed and turned in bed.
Rolled onto one side.
Then the other.
Sleep refused to come.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again.
Yanlong’s hand around her foot.
His warm fingers against her cold skin.
The look in his eyes when the bracelet had resisted all of his magic.
And those words.
“I will never love you.”
“I’ll never love you either.”
Why does it hurt so much?
It’s only an arranged marriage.
It’s nothing.
I don’t even know him.
So why…
She buried her face in her pillow.
Then there were the words of the Ancient Tree.
“Your soul belongs to me.”
“Your blood belongs to me.”
“I will find you wherever you are.”
The tiny bell around her ankle chimed softly every time she moved.
Like a reminder.
Like a promise engraved into the metal.
She had to find a way to remove the bracelet.
Before the Ancient Tree found her again.
She got up.
Quietly.
Without making a sound.
She pulled the curtain aside just enough to peek into the other half of the chamber.
Yanlong’s bed was empty.
The blankets were perfectly folded.
Untouched.
As though no one had slept there.
Where is he?
She stepped through the curtain.
And saw him.
Yanlong was sitting at his desk.
His long hair hung loose over his shoulders like a cascade of black silk.
A steaming cup of tea rested between his hands.
Scrolls were spread out across the desk before him.
He wasn’t sleeping either.
He looked up at her.
Neither surprised.
Nor annoyed.
Simply…
Present.
“You’re not in bed at this hour, Princess.”
It wasn’t a question.
Just an observation spoken into the silence of the night.
Tianyin froze.
She scratched the back of her neck.
Felt her cheeks growing warm.
She had no idea what to do.
Or what to say.
She started shuffling from side to side.
Dragging her feet like a child caught doing something wrong.
Yanlong watched her without saying a word.
His expression was impossible to read.
Then Tianyin noticed the scrolls.
Thick case files.
Documents sealed with crimson wax.
Reports filled with tightly packed handwriting—precise, orderly, almost cold.
Without thinking, she stepped closer.
She picked them up without asking for permission.
Disappearances.
Villagers from the surrounding region.
Every one of them had vanished inside Wanghun Forest…
The very same forest where Yanlong and Tianyin had barely survived.
No traces.
No bodies.
Nothing.
Simply…
Gone.
“Who are these people?” she asked without lifting her eyes from the report.
Yanlong set his teacup down.
“Villagers.”
“They’ve been disappearing for months.”
“We’ve never found them.”
Tianyin turned one page.
Then another.
Dates.
Names.
Circumstances.
The reports changed…
But one constant appeared every single time.
The forest.
Always the forest.
She felt Yanlong’s gaze settle on her.
Heavy.
Attentive.
As though he were waiting for something.
She kept reading.
Then he stood.
Slowly.
He placed both palms flat on the desk and leaned over the scrolls…
Without touching her.
Their faces were now only inches apart.
The candle between them flickered.
Tianyin looked up.
And immediately regretted it.
He was too close.
Far too close.
The candlelight danced in his dark eyes, scattering golden reflections through them.
She couldn’t look away.
Words rose to her lips.
She wanted to say something.
Anything.
But her voice refused to come.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Her throat tightened.
Stop.
Stop looking at him like that.
But her eyes no longer obeyed her.
Yanlong didn’t move.
He was looking at the scrolls.
At least…
That was what she wanted to believe.
Then, with one sharp motion, he took the document from her hands.
“Don’t touch my things again.”
He straightened.
Sat back down.
Picked up his teacup again as though nothing had happened.
As though the air between them hadn’t changed.
Tianyin stood up.
Her cheeks burned crimson.
Her thoughts were a tangled mess.
She shuffled back toward the curtain, convinced she would explode if she stayed in the room for even one more second.
She never saw the smile.
Almost imperceptible.
Brief.
Barely there.
But Yanlong smiled.
An arrow pierced through the window without a sound.
It grazed Tianyin’s arm, leaving behind a thin burning cut like the edge of a blade, before burying itself deep into the far wall with a dull thud.
Tianyin didn’t even have time to scream.
Yanlong was on his feet in a fraction of a second.
He caught her arm.
Examined it.
A thin crimson line marked her pale skin.
Superficial.
But the look in his eyes was anything but.
He released her arm.
Walked to the arrow.
Yanked it free from the wall in one swift motion.
Something was tied to its shaft.
A strip of paper.
Thin as skin.
Bound with a blood-red thread.
Without thinking, Tianyin stepped closer.
Yanlong unrolled the paper.
They read it at the same time.
YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO ME.
The letters were black.
Large.
Written with something that wasn’t ink.
Tianyin felt icy cold creep down the back of her neck.
Then…
The paper began to bleed.
Slowly.
Like a wound opening from within.
Red spread outward from the center.
It swallowed the words.
Erased them one by one.
And within the crimson…
A single word emerged.
A single name.
Tianyin.
The ground vanished beneath her feet.
The world tilted.
Her legs gave way.
Yanlong caught her before she hit the floor.
He laid her gently on the bed.
His fingers searched for her pulse.
Too weak.
Far too weak.
Her face was deathly pale.
Her lips had almost turned blue.
She looked like someone quietly slipping away.
Slowly.
Irreversibly.
Like a candle left to burn until the very last flame.
But Yanlong knew.
This wasn’t death.
It was worse.
The Ancient Tree was calling her.
Thread by thread, it was pulling her soul toward itself through the bracelet and the tiny bell around her ankle.
He lifted his head.
His mind searched desperately for a solution.
Something fast.
Something irreversible.
Only one remained.
The Heart Seal.
He closed his eyes.
He knew this technique.
He had inherited it from his mother—
A woman whose name his father never spoke anymore.
A memory that had become a wound no one dared reopen.
She had used it once.
She hadn’t survived.
His father had told him with empty eyes.
A voice stripped of all emotion.
As though every word were another stone laid upon a grave.
“Never use it.”
“Do you hear me?”
Yanlong looked at Tianyin.
Pale.
Cold.
Her lips slightly parted, as though she were still searching for air.
Should I sacrifice myself for her?
The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it.
He didn’t answer it.
The Heart Seal only worked between two people destined to become one.
If such a bond already existed between them…
If something invisible already connected them…
Then the technique would open a path between their two consciousnesses.
He would be able to descend into the depths of Tianyin’s mind.
Find her where the Ancient Tree held her captive.
And bring her back.
But if no bond existed…
He would never return either.
Yanlong slipped his long fingers between Tianyin’s slender ones.
Her hand was cold.
Lifeless.
Her fingers gave no response.
He tightened his grip anyway.
Then closed his eyes.
He gathered his spiritual energy.
Guided it down his arm.
Into his hand.
Into the fingers entwined with Tianyin’s.
He waited.
Nothing.
Silence.
Emptiness.
No passage.
No warmth.
No answer from the other side.
His breathing slowed.
They aren’t destined.
The thought was cold.
Logical.
Absolute.
He began to withdraw his hand.
Slowly.
Finger by finger.
His index finger.
His middle finger.
His ring finger.
Only his little finger remained.
Just…
His little finger.
And then—
Something held on.
Faintly.
Almost imperceptibly.
Like the final reflex of a hand unwilling to let go.
Tianyin’s little finger had curled around his.
Yanlong froze.
He lowered his gaze to their joined hands.
That tiny cold finger.
That insignificant, unconscious gesture.
Something born from a place deeper than consciousness itself.
As though some part of her…
Before she even understood it.
Before she could accept it…
Refused to let him go.
Yanlong closed his eyes once more.
And this time…
Something answered.
A warmth.
Faint at first.
Like an ember buried beneath ashes.
Then stronger.
Growing steadily warmer.
Flowing through their joined hands.
Up their wrists.
Through their arms.
Into their chests.
He felt the ground disappear beneath him.
He felt their shadows move.
He opened his eyes.
On the floor of the chamber, beneath the flickering light of the desk candle…
Their two shadows had merged.
A single silhouette.
Indivisible.
Then a burning sensation flared across his forehead.
Subtle.
Precise.
Like a seal being branded into flesh.
Slowly, he raised his free hand to his forehead.
His fingertips found the symbol.
He turned toward Tianyin.
The very same symbol glowed upon her forehead.
Identical.
Perfect.
They had become one.
Yanlong remained motionless for a long time.
Tianyin’s hand was still clasped in his.
Still cold.
But something had changed.
A faint resistance.
As though her soul, somewhere deep within the prison where the Ancient Tree held it…
Had just sensed the thread.
Had just sensed…
Him.
He lowered his eyes to their entwined hands.
To that little finger that had refused to let go.
To that gesture she had never consciously chosen.
Perhaps some part of her…
Before she understood.
Before she admitted it…
Had already made its choice.
Yanlong said nothing.
He tightened his hand around hers.
Then closed his eyes…
And went to bring her back.
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