Late at night.
The moon was mostly obscured by clouds, leaving the quiet room so dark that the only light came from a faint glow on the window lattice paper.
Bai Qingxue sat cross-legged on the bed, the ice lotus slowly rotating within her dantian.
Her breathing was long and light, almost inaudible. She sat as still as a jade carving, blending seamlessly into the quiet of the room.
Suddenly, the patterns on Bai Qingxue's wrist flared with heat.
Bai Qingxue looked down.
The dark red patterns clung quietly to her skin, just as they had during the day.
Bai Qingxue thought it would pass after a brief sting, just as it had before.
A much more intense heat spread from her wrist, like a red-hot iron wire threading beneath her skin and crawling up her forearm.
Bai Qingxue's breath hitched.
Then, an even more intense pain set in.
It felt as though someone were driving an extremely fine needle into her meridians, one by one.
At the same time, the ice lotus in her dantian shuddered violently.
The ice lotus was now spinning frantically, the cracks on its petals splitting deeper than before, as if something were forcing it open from the inside.
Spiritual power surged wildly through her meridians like a startled horse, thrashing about with no outlet to escape.
In this manner, spiritual power continuously spilled from her body.
The overflowing spiritual power carried the distinct chill of the Ice Spirit, causing the temperature in the quiet room to plummet.
The sudden drop in temperature caused a thin layer of frost to form on the window lattice paper, spreading from the edges toward the center with a soft, crackling sound, like countless tiny insects gnawing at the paper.
The already dim room grew even darker under the shroud of frost.
Bai Qingxue bit her lip, silently enduring the agony.
She refused to make a sound; after all, crying out would achieve nothing.
No one could help her.
This restriction was hers now, taken over from Ning Qinghan.
When she accepted it, she knew this day would come. Since that was the case, she would bear whatever came of it, for better or worse.
Amidst the pain, she bit through her lip.
The metallic taste of blood spread across her tongue, sharp and salty.
Just as Bai Qingxue was locked in a stalemate with the pain, the door to the side room opened.
The sound was incredibly soft, so quiet it would have gone unnoticed under normal circumstances. But in the dead of night, in a room filled only with her own heavy breathing, it was exceptionally clear.
Then, she heard it.
The creak of a door being pushed open, followed by the faint, almost imperceptible friction of bare feet brushing against the bluestone slabs.
The footsteps drew closer along the corridor.
The door to the quiet room was unbolted; Bai Qingxue had not bothered to slide the bolt tonight.
With a gentle push, the door swung open.
At that exact moment, a sliver of moonlight slipped through the clouds and fell upon her.
The moonlight was thin, filtered by the clouds into a soft glow that enveloped Ning Qinghan in a pale silver-gray light.
Ning Qinghan wore thin sleeping clothes, her collar loosely draped open to reveal her collarbone and a small patch of her shoulder. The hollows of her collarbone cast deep shadows, while the curve of her shoulder appeared exceedingly delicate in the moonlight.
Her long hair was loose, draped casually as if she had risen in the middle of sleep. A few strands hung beside her face, their slightly curled ends brushing softly against her cheek.
Ning Qinghan seemed perpetually disinclined to wear shoes, her bare feet still resting on the cold floor, her toes curled slightly.
Looking at Bai Qingxue, Ning Qinghan did not utter a single unnecessary word.
She simply walked over to the bed, reached out, and grabbed Bai Qingxue's wrist.
Her hand was also cold, but her grip on Bai Qingxue's wrist was firm and unyielding.
Deep blue spiritual power surged from her palm, targeting the restriction on Bai Qingxue's wrist. When the spiritual power met the restriction, it was like a freezing torrent rushing into a searing wound.
Bai Qingxue's brow furrowed sharply.
The spiritual power traveled backward along the patterns of the restriction, colliding with the wild Ice Spirit spiritual power.
The two forces clashed within Bai Qingxue's meridians—one cold, one hot; one rapid, one steady—like two converging rivers twisting together, neither willing to yield.
But Ning Qinghan did not back down.
Her fingers clamped tightly around Bai Qingxue's wrist as deep blue spiritual power poured in without pause, suppressing the rampaging Ice Spirit spiritual power inch by inch, forcing it back within the boundaries of the restriction's patterns.
Bai Qingxue's meridians stretched, filled with a sensation of being utterly saturated.
It was not something that belonged to Bai Qingxue.
It was Ning Qinghan's spiritual power.
Ning Qinghan's spiritual power coursed through Bai Qingxue's body, following the patterns of the restriction and probing into a place she had never opened to anyone before.
Within her dantian, the frantically spinning ice lotus began to rotate slowly once more.
The moment Ning Qinghan's spiritual power brushed against the edge of the ice lotus, Bai Qingxue's body tensed violently.
This was her most private sanctuary, the foundation of her cultivation for so many years, her ultimate redoubt that she would never lay bare to anyone.
Yet Ning Qinghan's spiritual power lingered right there, hovering at the boundary of the ice lotus, neither intruding nor retreating.
Ning Qinghan looked up at Bai Qingxue, as if trying to read something from her expression.
But Bai Qingxue merely remained frozen, her body tense, her red lips tightly bitten.
Blood welled once more from the wound on Bai Qingxue's lip, a single drop trickling down her chin.
Ning Qinghan lowered her head, gazing at the wound.
Her gaze lingered on Bai Qingxue's lips for a brief moment before shifting away.
Their contact remained unbroken.
The restriction on Bai Qingxue's wrist receded.
The dark red patterns retreated from her shoulder back to her wrist.
The color faded from deep red to dark red, then to a pale crimson, before finally settling quietly on her wrist as a faint mark, almost invisible to the eye.
Just like that, the restriction fell quiet.
It was as if nothing had ever happened.
At the same time, Bai Qingxue's breathing gradually stabilized.
She opened her eyes.
The moon drifted out from behind the clouds, casting a brighter light between them.
The thin frost on the window lattice paper began to melt, tiny water droplets trickling down the window frame with a soft, rhythmic patter.
Ning Qinghan was still holding her wrist, refusing to let go.
The moonlight spilled from behind the clouds, illuminating the space between them.
A faint bite mark was visible on Ning Qinghan's lip.
It was unclear whether she had bitten it to endure pain or some other sensation.
Bai Qingxue wanted to say something, but her throat was too dry to make a sound.
Yet, seeing Bai Qingxue open her eyes, Ning Qinghan did not release her grip. Instead, she drew even closer.
The distance between them was already incredibly small.
Ning Qinghan bent over by the bed, holding her hand, her face only inches from Bai Qingxue's.
Now, Ning Qinghan leaned in a fraction more, so close that Bai Qingxue could feel her breath brushing against her cheek—light, cool, and carrying an indefinable, crisp scent.
“Bai Qingxue.”
“Yes?”
Bai Qingxue's voice was still raspy from the ordeal she had just endured.
Ning Qinghan looked at Bai Qingxue.
Ning Qinghan's gaze was incredibly direct, staring straight into Bai Qingxue's eyes.
The moonlight reflected in Ning Qinghan's eyes, casting them in a deep blue hue that matched her spiritual power.
“Do you want to dual cultivate with me?”
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