Shi Yang didn't answer.
The silence pressed back against her words, heavy and unyielding.
Lianhua lingered a moment longer, her grip tightening on the tray until her knuckles whitened. At last, she set it carefully on the floor by the door.
"You don't have to say anything," she murmured, her voice low, almost swallowed by the storm outside. "But… if you take even one bite, I'll know you're still trying. And… you can come to me anytime. Even if it's only for that."
Her fingers brushed the small device she had kept hidden until now—his confiscated phone. She hesitated, then placed it gently beside the tray. "I'm giving this back too. Don't shut me out forever, Yang Shi."
Straightening, she stood pale and rigid, her expression caught between resolve and trembling weakness. Without knocking again, she turned and walked down the hall, her shadow stretching long under the lantern light until it vanished around the corner.
In her own room, she closed the door softly behind her. The silence within pressed heavier than the storm outside. She crossed to her bed and sank down onto its edge, the nightstand beside her cluttered with small things—hairpins, a folded handkerchief, and one object she hadn't dared touch for hours.
Her hand trembled as she reached for it now.
A thin stick. A test.
The faint line glowed unmistakably, a cruel truth etched in pale pink. Positive.
Lianhua sat frozen, staring at it, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she lowered her face into her hands, the storm's rumble outside echoing the turmoil within her chest.
Hmm? Shi Yang hummed, leaning against the wall. His spirit body stood at her side, unseen.
So this is my next Daoist resonance, he thought, rubbing his chin as he watched her. If my first resonance here came from indulging in debauchery, then perhaps that's what I must continue doing…
Sleeping with my widowed aunt and raising a child together?
He lingered on the sight of her trembling frame, then turned away and stepped toward the open window. I don't see how this will benefit me—but I'm not one to doubt my inner sea.
Bending onto the sill, he leapt into the air.
Wind tore past him as his body sped across the town. "Ah," he murmured, stretching his arms wide, "I've missed this speed." He stopped atop a skyscraper in a neighboring city, grinning faintly. "I tried using this in the real world before, but it never worked—no matter how much I pushed, I was never this fast. But now, after breaking through…"
His senses flared suddenly. Resonance.
He turned, his gaze snapping toward a massive mall. Police surrounded the perimeter, lights flashing, sirens screaming against the night. The air was tense—dozens of terrorists had taken the building, holding the crowd inside hostage.
On the billboards outside, the news broadcast streamed live footage. Grainy images flickered across the towering screens.
Shi Yang's eyes narrowed. In the center of the mall's grand atrium, the group's leader sat cross-legged in meditation. Water shimmered along his skin, rippling as if the surface of a tidepool had been woven into his flesh.
Another cultivator? Shi Yang thought—and didn't hesitate. He dove past the police cordon, feet barely touching the ground before he exploded into the mall area. He blitzed forward, palm flashing like lightning.
A female officer lifted a megaphone, fury and command in her voice as she addressed the men at the entrance. "We'll hear your demands—on one condition. Do not harm any hostages."
"We want to speak with the prime minister," a rifleman in black snapped back, masked and cold, his finger poised on the trigger from behind the outer pillars. He and a dozen others were tasked with holding back the police—only the prime minister was to be allowed in. "Try anything stupid, and you put thousands of lives at risk, missy—"
He never finished.
A palm met his chest and sent him flying into the concrete. He crashed back against the wall with a sickening crack; the breath was knocked from him, the impact leaving a bloody imprint across his sternum. From the other side of the pillars, one of his companions—"Huo Zhen!" someone shouted—fired blindly at the vaguely rain-streaked figure advancing through the entrance.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets rattled off glass and stone, but the translucent silhouette moved like water—dodging, phasing, and then striking. "Featherless Palm!" Shi Yang yelled as qi snapped through his limbs. His strike found its mark.
The gunman howled and vaulted backward. Blood spilled from his mouth; his lungs collapsed under the force. He flailed, choking as cold white pain stabbed his chest, then crumpled.
Nearby thugs rushed in, hesitation turning to outrage at the sight of their men hurled through the air. "Fire!" one of them barked, abandoning any pretense of negotiating, and aimed at the phantom figure before them.
"Captain Lin! Captain Lin Mei!" a voice called from the perimeter, urgency cracking through the static. An officer looked toward the woman with the megaphone. "Should we move in?"
The woman glanced at the chaos unfolding—thugs tossed like rag dolls, a meditating leader untouched in the atrium—and clenched her jaw. I don't know who that is, she thought, and if they're trying to help, the leader inside could still react unpredictably if he sees what's happening out here.
"No time to wait for backup," she snapped, helmet already snapping into place. "Get ready. We're going in—now."
The officers shifted instantly at Captain Lin Mei's command. Boots pounded against wet asphalt as they broke from cover, abandoning the line of police cars riddled with bullet dents. Riot shields snapped into formation, heavy steel plates gleaming under the mall's flickering exterior lights.
"Go! Move!" Lin Mei barked.
They surged forward, shields raised, rounds sparking as gunfire erupted from the right side of the outer perimeter. Terrorists who had been circling around the mall grouped up and opened fire, muzzles flashing through the rain.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Bullets slammed against the riot wall, shields jerking under the impacts. Sparks spat into the stormy air, but the line held. Officers crouched low, rifles braced against the gaps, returning fire in sharp, controlled bursts.
"Suppressing fire, right side!" someone shouted.
"Covering!" another responded, leaning just far enough past his shield to fire back. One of the black-masked gunmen staggered as his rifle clattered to the floor, blood blooming from his shoulder.
Glass shattered overhead as another terrorist fired down from a second-story window, raining shards over the entryway. "Up top!" Lin Mei snapped, swinging her rifle skyward. Her burst of fire punched through the glass, sending the man tumbling backward into the shadows.
"Keep advancing!"
The squad pushed closer, step by step, shields scraping against tile as they breached the mall's entrance. The stench of smoke and cordite hit them instantly, mixing with the acrid tang of fear. Ahead, half a dozen more gunmen formed a barricade of overturned kiosks and shattered benches.
"Open fire!" one screamed, spraying wildly.
The lobby exploded into chaos—ricochets sparking off marble pillars, the thunder of boots on polished floor, and shouts and screams echoing through the atrium. The officers answered with disciplined precision, their rifles roaring in unison, muzzle flashes illuminating the cavernous space.
Through it all, Lin Mei's eyes cut toward the heart of the mall—where the meditating leader still sat, untouched, water shimmering faintly over his skin.
Her gut twisted. Who the hell is he? And why hasn't he moved through all this?
"Nice work handling the ones who came from the other side," a voice called from above.
Instinct snapped her gun upward. The other officers mirrored her, rifles trained on the upper balcony, convinced an attacker had slipped past.
Instead, they saw him—the same translucent figure who had led their charge.
"But now I can take it from here," Shi Yang said, his voice calm, almost mocking. He had leapt over their defense like it was nothing. "Come on… let's see what you all can teach me."
His fingers flicked straight. Crack! A bullet smacked off his palm, sparks flashing.
"Shit, shit, shit!" a gunman panicked, unloading round after round. But Shi Yang kept walking forward, each shot brushed aside, each step unbroken.
With a sudden burst, he vaulted over their barricade. His palm smashed into a terrorist's chest, ribs bending with a sickening crunch. A fist buried itself into the man's stomach, doubling him over before a knife-hand chop dropped him cold.
Snatching up the fallen rifle, Shi Yang fired point-blank into the two nearest thugs—bang, bang—then let the weapon clatter to the tiles. His hands opened again, raining palm strikes onto the remaining fighters.
Fuck, who is this guy? "One of the hardened mercenaries thought, sweat dripping as he and his squad circled from above the atrium. A military contractor? Some monster holding a grudge against terrorist groups?
"Fire!!!" the mercenary roared.
The upper balcony erupted in thunder, heavy machine guns spraying in a relentless hail.
Shi Yang blurred into motion, weaving through the barrage, each dodge so fluid it looked inhuman. Bullets tore through the walls and shattered glass around him, but none found his flesh.
With a sudden leap, he soared up the column like a phantom, landing on the second floor in a burst of broken marble. His palm crushed a gunman's throat before the man even realized he'd been flanked. Grabbing the corpse's weapon, Shi Yang swung it in a vicious arc, mowing down the other balcony shooters in a storm of blood and gunfire.
The mercenary cursed, teeth bared, dropping his empty drum. "You bastard!"
He slung his weapon aside, pulling a combat knife as Shi Yang closed the distance.
And then it was no longer gunfire—only flesh, steel, and fury.
The leading mercenary slashed through the air, blade flashing. Shi Yang slipped back, parried the strike with a twist of his wrist, and opened his palm for a gut-shattering blow. But the man's battle experience saved him—he sidestepped just in time, driving his knife for Shi Yang's arm.
Slash! Steel cuts air, but not flesh. Shi Yang pivoted, sweeping his opponent's legs clean out from under him.
The hell—!? The mercenary's instincts screamed. He rolled, hands slamming against the floor, flipping back just as Shi Yang's stolen blade stabbed down where his chest had been.
"You're quick, aren't you," Shi Yang murmured, eyes glinting. His fingers flexed, the knife handle groaning under his grip as its steel edges corroded, rust creeping along the blade. "Let's see if you're faster than my Dao itself.
He grinned and hurled the knife.
The mercenary ducked, but Shi Yang's fingers twitched—and the blade curved midair. Shit! He grabbed a shopping bag abandoned by a hostage, heavy with a laptop, and swung it up as a shield.
Clang! The knife struck and halted. But Shi Yang did not.
"Fuck!!" The mercenary dropped the bag as Shi Yang's five-fingered strike slammed into him, bones rattling under the impact. The blow sent him skidding back meters across the polished floor.
Shi Yang kicked the laptop bag up, caught it, and flung the computer straight at his opponent's head. The mercenary barely ducked as the electronic missile whistled past and exploded against the wall, scattering shrapnel with enough force to maim.
"I give up!!" The man roared, chest heaving as he saw the cracked wall and mangled laptop.
Shi Yang threw the knife anyway. Thuck! It buried into the mercenary's shoulder. His fingers twitched, and the blade ripped downward across the man's chest, carving deep. Before the mercenary could scream, Shi Yang flashed forward, palm striking his skull with such force that his body crashed through the wall and into an electronics store.
Shi Yang stepped through the dust and rubble, spirit hands dripping with gore. His gaze, however, landed not on the corpse twitching in broken glass, but on the shelves gleaming with new tech.
Hmm? They have a new Lemon Phone here? His head tilted, curiosity tugging his mouth into a smile. He wandered deeper despite the carnage, his spirit hands casually brushing bloody fingerprints across untouched displays. "The store won't mind if I take one of these, right?"
He slipped behind the counter, plucking a fresh model from storage.
Then he paused, remembering something, his eyes softening slightly… she'll need something too. He reached up, grabbing a children's tablet from the shelf still in the box. His grin widened. "Maybe I should get her a ring as well," he muttered darkly, amused at his own joke.
And this is all inside my head, so it doesn't matter if I indulge my heart's desires.
Shi Yang zipped out of the store, the phone and tablet secured. His speed was so sharp that no one saw him until he reappeared in the center of the mall, his movements more like a shifting blur than a man.
On the rooftop ledge above, he placed his spoils neatly: the gleaming Lemon Phone, a children's tablet sealed snug in its casing… And beside them, a velvet ring box that glinted under the atrium lights. As though that weren't enough, a bouquet of fresh flowers—snatched on his way through a decorative stall—rested alongside the box, their petals trembling faintly in the air current left behind by his speed.