Afterglow

Yun Ming still, his right hand still in the posture after throwing the spear, his five fingers slightly spread, with the tip of his finger still glowing with incandescent light.

His chest heaved violently, the power of Limit Douluo was being pushed to its limit, every Soul Power roaring, but his gaze remained fixed on the direction where Ha Luosa had disappeared.

There was murderous intent, resentment, and a barely concealed lingering fear in his eyes. He dared not think about what would have happened if his son hadn't been able to hold off Ha Luosa for that short time, if he had arrived a moment later, if that Atlas Spear hadn't pierced Ha Luosa's chest...

Cai Yue'er swept over from the other side of the battlefield, the silvery moonlight swirling around her, her skirt stained with dust and bloodstains of unknown origin.

Her lips had lost their color, but her eyes remained as sharp as a drawn sword. Her gaze lingered for three seconds on the spot where Ha Luosa had disappeared, then swept across the battlefield to confirm the location of all threats before turning to Yun Ming.

He ran away. Should we chase him?

Yun Ming did not answer.

His gaze passed over Cai Yue'er and landed on a blood-covered figure being supported by Wu Zhangkong in the distance.

His throat bobbed up and down, and his lips moved several times before he could utter a hoarse sound.

"Don't chase after him. Let's see Jing Heng first."

Cai Yue'er followed his gaze and saw Yun Jingheng leaning on Wu Zhangkong's shoulder, his hair disheveled, his one eye, which wasn't covered, half-open and half-closed, his pupils unfocused, his consciousness already blurred.

His Soul Ring have been taken back.

The first time he used this Soul Skill was probably when he was driven to the brink by Ha Luosa, instinctively triggering some power that he had not yet fully mastered.

That red Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring, that Lunar Moon Path Secret Realm independent of heaven and earth, that brief but domineering leap in cultivation level—these are not things that he should possess at his current level of cultivation.

It was the Lunar Origin bestowed upon him by Lunar Primordial Sovereign that awakened, operated, and protected its master on its own at the critical moment when he was on the verge of life and death.

It wasn't a force that Yun Jingheng actively activated; it was a force that spontaneously surged from within him to save his life.

Wu Zhangkong wrapped one arm around Yun Jingheng's waist and placed the other hand on his shoulder, stabilizing his swaying body against himself.

His Battle Armor was mostly shattered, with silver-white plates hanging haphazardly on his body, revealing bruises and charred marks caused by the corrosion of the Netherworld energy beneath.

His left arm hung at an unnatural angle, with a noticeable misalignment at the elbow, but his hand remained firmly on Yun Jingheng's shoulder, without letting go.

There was a dried bloodstain at the corner of his mouth, extending from his lip to his chin, already congealed, as if someone had drawn an arc on his face with dark red paint.

His breathing was rapid and shallow, but his gaze was steady, just like Yun Ming's.

He forcibly activated his sixth Soul Skill.

Wu Zhangkong's voice was hoarse, so hoarse it didn't sound like his own, "That Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring is new; he's never used it before and isn't proficient with it. The expansion of the independent space has already exceeded his current Soul Power limit."

"Ha Luosa shattered space; his meridians and Soul Core were impacted, but he survived your shot."

Yun Ming reached out and brushed aside the stray hairs on Yun Jingheng's forehead that were stuck together with cold sweat.

His fingers paused slightly the moment they touched Yun Jingheng's skin; it was icy cold.

Yun Jingheng's eyelids twitched.

His consciousness struggled in that chaos, like a drowning person desperately trying to surface.

He heard voices—his father's, Aunt Cai's, and Teacher Wu's. The voices came from a very, very far place, indistinct and distant, as if separated by a thick layer of water.

He tried hard to open his eyes, to say "I'm fine," to say that he could still stand up, could still fight, could still hold on.

But his body was no longer under his control. His Soul Power was depleted, his meridians were damaged, and his Soul Core was vibrating. Every muscle was protesting the limits of overexertion with soreness and trembling.

His lips moved slightly, the sound so soft it was almost inaudible.

"... He... is gone?"

Yun Ming's hand rested on his forehead, the warmth of his palm traveling through his skin.

"They're gone. You chased them away."

Yun Jingheng's lips curved slightly, very gently, as if afraid of aggravating the wound on his face.

"Boast..."

A ray of light appeared in the sky, and Yun Ming looked up.

A silvery light shone down from the moon, illuminating Yun Jingheng.

As if sensing something, he struggled to raise his head and look at the moon.

"... What, it even... involves hypnosis...?"

Star Luo City awakens in the dawn.

The sounds of carriages and horses on the street seeped in through the cracks in the windows, mixed with the cries of early morning vendors, the laughter of children chasing and playing, and the commands of guards changing shifts at the city gate in the distance.

The city did not come to a standstill because of the battle in the Maple Leaf Forest last night. The sun rose as usual, people went about their lives as usual, the porridge shop owner set up his pot at four in the morning as usual, and the guards at the city gate relieved their brothers on the night shift in the morning light as usual.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, drawing a thin golden band of light across the wooden floor. The band stretched from the window to the foot of the bed, illuminating the tiny dust particles floating in the air. These particles drifted slowly within the beam of light, like countless tiny, weightless stars.

There was no one in bed.

The blankets were folded neatly, the pillows were placed upright, and the sheets were without a single wrinkle, as if no one had slept there last night.

When Ye Xinglan pushed the door open, she was carrying a bowl of porridge.

The porridge was still steaming, and the aroma of rice filled the room.

She walked in, her gaze instinctively sweeping over the bed first; no one was there.

She paused, her gaze shifting from the empty bed to the bowl of now-cold porridge on the bedside table. Her brow furrowed slightly, and then she saw the person by the window.

Yun Jingheng stood there.

He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

His hair was unkempt, hanging loosely, with a few stray strands glistening in the morning light filtering through the curtains.

His hand was on the window frame, and his other hand hung at his side.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on the strip of light that squeezed in through the gap in the curtains, as if looking at the dust particles floating in the beam of light, or as if he wasn't looking at anything at all.

Ye Xinglan stood at the door, her gaze sweeping over the tall, slender, and upright figure by the window.

She placed the bowl of porridge on the bedside table, then walked to the window, stood behind him, tilted her head, and looked at him.

"Oh? Young Master Yun, are you all better now? You actually dare to get out of bed?"

Ye Xinglan's voice wasn't loud, but every word carried a perfectly timed, teasing tone that made people grit their teeth.

The corners of her mouth curved into a smile, a smile that was just right to show she was smiling, but not so blatantly.

Her eyes shone brightly in the morning light, their pupils reflecting the golden rays filtering through the curtains, like two burning obsidian stones.

Yun Jingheng turned to look at her, his movements slow, as if afraid of aggravating his still-healing wounds.

He rolled his eyes at her.

Then he turned his gaze back to the window, looking at the bustling crowds on the street and the buildings slowly awakening in the morning light.

"It's been a week, and my muscles are almost atrophied."

The smile on Ye Xinglan's lips didn't fade; instead, it widened.

She leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, tilting her head to look at Yun Jingheng's pale face, which had regained some color.

"It's good that your muscles have atrophied, so you won't bully me or steal my food."

"Heh..." Yun Jingheng chuckled softly.

"When are you leaving?" Ye Xinglan took a piece of candy out of her pocket.

"Two hours later."

"So fast? Can your body handle it?"

Yun Jingheng chuckled and flicked her forehead. "I can get out of bed now, let alone with my parents carrying me around. How can I be as fragile as you make me out to be?"