Fated | Fangs Of Fortune [ZhuYi]

Chapter 33 : The Bride

The air was heavy with warmth and the mingling aroma of freshly cooked dishes. Everyone sat around the table, their faces alight with anticipation, as Ying Lei set down the last dish with a flourish. His proud smile stretched wide across his face as he surveyed the spread he had prepared. The feast was a masterpiece—A medley of steaming hotpots, fragrant stir-fried bok choy with garlic, and golden-brown dumplings that seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.

Bai Jiu was the first to break the silence, his voice ringing with excitement. "Lei-ge! This is delicious!" he exclaimed, his chopsticks already darting for another piece of fried tofu.

Ying Lei puffed up his chest, beaming. "Of course it is. It's my cooking." His smugness earned a chorus of laughter from the table. Even Yichen's lips twitched into a faint smile as he took his first bite, savoring the flavors that seemed to melt on his tongue.

But as soon as the morsel left his lips, Yichen noticed all eyes on him. Ying Lei's gaze in particular sparkled with anticipation, and the rest of the group was barely containing their amusement as they waited for his reaction. Yichen knew exactly what they were doing—trying to make this day, of all days, brighter for him.

He set down his chopsticks with exaggerated deliberation and chuckled. "It is delicious, Little Mountain God" he said, his voice warm with appreciation.

The room erupted into laughter once more, but Ying Lei looked like he might leap out of his chair in sheer delight. He half-rose before Pei Si Heng calmly reached out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to prevent any table-upsetting enthusiasm.

"Did I do a great job?" Ying Lei asked, turning to Yichen, tilting his head forward with a wide grin, clearly expecting something.

"Yes?... What is it, Ying Lei?" Yichen asked, confused but amused by the mischievous glint in the mountain god's eyes.

Zhu Yan, seated beside Yichen, raised an eyebrow, visibly puzzled by the scene unfolding before him. Yichen, however, quickly caught on, his laugh soft as he reached out to pat Ying Lei's head. The mountain god squeaked in delight, practically glowing with pride at the rare acknowledgment from Commander Zhuo Yichen.

"You—" Bai Jiu's outraged cry cut through the laughter. He pointed an accusatory finger at Ying Lei, his face red with indignation. "You cheated, Lei-ge!"

"Yes! Don't cheat!" Zhu Yan chimed in, slamming his chopsticks on the table in mock outrage.

Everyone laughed harder, the table's atmosphere alive. Yichen, caught between exasperation and amusement, gave Zhu Yan a glare meant to silence him. "Stop embarrassing me" he said firmly before turning to Bai Jiu with a much softer expression.

"Xiao Jiu, you did a great job too... by helping your Lei-ge cook" Yichen said warmly, his words soothing the younger boy's pout. Zhu Yan, however, sat back in his chair, clearly disgruntled at being left out of the praise.

Once the meal was finished, the younger members of the group volunteered to clear the table and wash the dishes. Yichen slipped out to the courtyard, the crisp mountain air biting against his skin. Snowflakes fell gently, their icy touch contrasting with the golden rays of the sun. It was a strange yet beautiful phenomenon unique to Kunlun Mountain—a place where warmth and cold coexisted in harmony. Yichen tilted his head back, letting the snow and sun kiss his face, his heart momentarily lighter.

A shadow crossed his vision. Lowering his gaze, he found himself looking at the intricate patterns of a black umbrella. His eyes traced the delicate details before landing on the figure holding it. Zhu Yan stood beside him, his pitch-black eyes locking with Yichen's abyssal blue ones. Despite the tension that often lingered between them, a small spark flickered in both their gazes.

"You ruined my view of the sky, Yuan Zhou" Yichen said, his tone feigning annoyance. But there was no mistaking the faint warmth in his voice.

Zhu Yan's lips curled into a playful smile. "You'll get a cold in your healing state, Zhuo Daren" he teased. He stepped closer, his free hand reaching out. "Just let me heal you."

Yichen stepped back quickly, pulling his hand away like a petulant child. "No."

Zhu Yan's brows furrowed, and his tone turned almost maternal. "Yichen, just let me."

"No." Yichen repeated, his voice firm.

What started as a simple offer devolved into a comical bickering match, with Zhu Yan's hand darting forward and Yichen twisting away to avoid him. Their antics were interrupted by a concerned voice.

"Xiao Zhuo, is it happening again?" Wen Xiao's voice cut through their argument with a mix of concern and urgency. She hurried to Yichen's side, gently taking his wrist and pressing her fingers against his pulse.

Yichen looked at her with a small, warm smile, recognizing the worry in her eyes. "I'm fine, Wen Xiao" he said softly, his tone reassuring.

"Are you sure? Is it happening again?" Wen Xiao asked, her voice quieter now but still laced with concern as her eyes searched his face for any hint of discomfort.

Yichen let out a light chuckle, his shoulders relaxing. "It's not happening this time" he replied, his smile growing slightly. "I promise, it will never happen again."

Wen Xiao studied him for a moment longer, her expression still cautious but tinged with relief. His gentle tone and steady gaze seemed to ease her worry, even if just a little.

Zhu Yan looked between them, his confusion evident. "Happen what? Is Yichen injured?" he asked, his voice rising with alarm.

"No" Yichen said firmly, but Wen Xiao ignored him.

"Xiao Zhuo always gets sick on this day every year" she explained, her voice steady but tinged with worry. "He'd get severe chest pain and faint, sometimes staying unconscious for days. It's been happening for the past eight years, but we've never found a cure nor the cause."

Zhu Yan's face darkened with concern. Without a word, he flicked the umbrella away and reached for Yichen's hand.

"What are you doing? I'm fine now!" Yichen protested, but Zhu Yan didn't relent. Eventually, Yichen sighed in defeat, letting Zhu Yan take his hand. A warm, scarlet energy flowed from Zhu Yan's palm into Yichen's, coursing through him in waves.

After a moment, Zhu Yan let go with a sigh of relief. "You're okay" he confirmed softly.

"I told you" Yichen muttered, crossing his arms.

Wen Xiao's gaze lingered on them, her eyes narrowing slightly. "How can you be so sure it won't happen again, Xiao Zhuo?" she asked, her voice probing.

Yichen's eyes flicked toward Zhu Yan, whose worried expression hadn't faded. With a gentle smile, Yichen replied, "I just know." Wen Xiao's lips quirked upward, a knowing smile tugging at the corners.

The temple doors creaked open, shattering the tranquil moment. Three men entered, accompanied by Mr. Fan, whose face was lined with urgency.

"Father?" Wen Xiao called out, confused.

Mr. Fan strode toward Yichen, his voice trembling. "Yichen, something has happened."

"What is it?" Yichen asked, his grip tightening on Mr. Fan's arm.

"Young Miss AiLi has been kidnapped" Mr. Fan said, his voice grim.

The blood drained from Yichen's face. Zhu Yan's eyes darted to him, silently questioning.

"Who is Young Miss AiLi?" Zhu Yan finally asked.

Wen Xiao's expression darkened as she answered quietly, "She was the bride."

Zhu Yan's eyes widened in shock, but his gaze quickly returned to Yichen, whose face was etched with raw desperation. The hardened lines of his expression couldn't mask the urgency blazing in his eyes.