Fated | Fangs Of Fortune [ZhuYi]

Chapter 34 : 'That Matter' Resurfaced

YiChen closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with the effort. When he opened them, the frantic panic that had briefly overtaken him was gone, replaced by a resolute determination that sharpened his gaze like tempered steel. Without hesitation, he extended his hand toward Zhu Yan, his fingers steady and purposeful.

"Yuan Zhou" YiChen called, his voice firm yet carrying a weight that broke through the haze clouding Zhu Yan's mind.

Zhu Yan's head snapped up, his expression startled. From the moment he had heard the words 'the bride' his thoughts had spiraled, his world grinding to a halt as fragments of memory resurfaced. But YiChen's voice pierced through the chaos, grounding him in the present.

"...What?" Zhu Yan murmured, his gaze lowering to the hand YiChen held out.

"You said you'd heal me" YiChen said with quiet urgency.

Zhu Yan blinked, "Oh... I did" he muttered distractedly, his fingers closing around YiChen's.

As soon as their hands connected, a faint scarlet glow bloomed between their clasped palms, spreading like ripples over the surface of a still lake. The energy coursed through YiChen, soothing and mending with an almost otherworldly precision. The bruises that marred his neck, marks shaped like the imprint of fingers, faded away into smooth, unblemished skin. The pallor that had clung to his face was replaced by a healthy flush, the color returning like dawn breaking over a cold, shadowed landscape.

As YiChen attempted to withdraw his hand, he realized Zhu Yan's grip remained firm, refusing to release him.

YiChen's brows furrowed, and he glanced up sharply, locking eyes with Zhu Yan. "What's wrong?" he started to ask, his voice carrying a mix of confusion and concern.

Zhu Yan, however, was silent, his grip firm but not harsh, his pitch-black eyes holding YiChen's gaze with an intensity that was almost unreadable. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at YiChen—a storm of emotions, unvoiced but heavy enough to be felt. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if he might say something, might finally let the words that lingered on the tip of his tongue fall into the open air.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, Zhu Yan dropped YiChen's hand as though burned, his gaze falling away in retreat. "It's nothing" he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

YiChen hesitated, his confusion deepening as he studied Zhu Yan's face. But with no further explanation forthcoming, he turned toward Mr. Fan, brushing aside his unease.

"Let's go" YiChen said, his voice calm but commanding as he took the lead.

Zhu Yan lingered for a moment, his hand flexing slightly at his side as though he could still feel the warmth of YiChen's touch.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The main chamber of the Demon Hunting Bureau was steeped in an eerie silence, until it was suddenly disrupted by the rushing sound of the wind as a golden light erupted in the center of the room. Seven figures materialized, their forms solidifying from the glow.

They had left the youngsters to care for Ying Zhao and Ying Zhen, leaving only Wen Xiao, Pei Sijing, Zhu Yan, YiChen and Mr. Fan to return.

Yichen moved with purpose, his strides quick and deliberate as he disappeared into his quarters. Zhu Yan lingered near the entrance, his thoughts a whirl of confusion and unease as he watched Yichen's retreating figure.

Minutes later, Yichen emerged, his appearance transformed. He wore a clean, formal uniform—neatly pressed robes of navy and gold that marked his status as Commander. His hair was gathered into a ponytail, adorned with delicate bells that jingled softly with each step, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing beneath his composed exterior.