The hour crept by like mist after a storm.
The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of gauze against skin. Zhao Liren sat at the edge of Qin Yuelin's bed, disinfecting the faint scratches on his friend's porcelain cheek. His hands were careful, trembling only when he saw a smear of dried blood near Yuelin's jawline.
Yuelin was asleep now, his breathing soft and rhythmic. The nightmare that had clawed through the night seemed distant, though the walls still held its echo.
Across the hall, Wen Jun sat by Shen Lian's bedside. He hadn't moved in almost an hour... posture straight, expression unreadable. His fingers rested lightly on his lap, the strings of fózhū beads glinting dimly against his wrists.
Shen Lian lay motionless, skin pale against the dark pillowcase. Every now and then, his fingers twitched as if he were chasing something in a dream. Wen Jun's gaze stayed fixed on him... not watchful, not worried, but assessing, as if tracing something invisible beneath the surface of Shen's soul.
Then, Shen's breath hitched. His eyes shot open.
He sat up so fast the blanket slid to the floor. Wen Jun didn't flinch.
"Easy," Wen said quietly, but Shen was already on his feet.
He didn't answer. He barely noticed Wen Jun's presence. His mind was a blur of only one thought.... Yuelin.
He stumbled out of the room, barefoot, still dizzy from unconsciousness, adrenaline forcing his body to move faster than it could handle.
"Shen-" Wen Jun began, but the man was already gone.
The door to Yuelin's room slammed open. Zhao looked up, startled, a roll of bandage still in his hand.
"Shen… you woke up! How are-"
"How's Yuelin?" Shen cut him off, his voice rough, eyes frantic. "What happened to him? Is he hurt? Did that thing-"
Zhao blinked, confusion flashing across his face before he answered softly, "He's okay now. Thanks to Wen Jun. Just a few scratches, nothing serious."
Shen let out a shaky breath, eyes landing on Yuelin's sleeping face. His chest loosened for the first time that night. He brushed a lock of Yuelin's hair off his forehead, his fingers lingering there a second too long.
Then his gaze hardened. "Where's Yi Chen?"
Zhao froze, lips pressing into a line. "It wasn't Yi Chen," he said slowly. "It was… a ghost. That thing took over you, Shen. You-" Zhao's voice faltered. "You tried to kill me."
Shen went still. His heart thudded.
Zhao continued, quieter now. "If it weren't for Wen Jun, we'd both be dead. He stopped you, exorcised that thing, saved Yuelin. At least for now."
Shen's eyes flickered, the name unfamiliar. "Who is this Wen Jun you keep mentioning?"
Zhao frowned. "You didn't see him? He was right there when you fainted. He carried you back here."
As if on cue, a deep voice came from the doorway.
"I need to talk to all of you."
Wen Jun stepped inside, still composed. The faint scent of incense seemed to follow him, soft and grounding. He walked past Zhao and knelt by Yuelin's bedside.
Without waiting for permission, he placed his palm gently on Yuelin's forehead.
Zhao opened his mouth to object, but Shen stopped him with a look... something about Wen's calm presence felt unexplainably… trustworthy.
Wen Jun began to chant. The words were low, ancient, fluid... a rhythm that seemed to hum inside the walls. His eyes began to glow again, a soft violet hue illuminating his face in a surreal light.
Zhao's breath caught. Shen's hand tightened around the bedframe.
Within seconds, Yuelin stirred. His lashes fluttered open. The redness on his neck, the scratches on his arm... gone. Completely gone. Even the blood-stained gauze Zhao had just applied fell away uselessly.
Zhao stared. "What the-"
Yuelin blinked slowly, confused but awake. "W… what happened?"
Before Zhao could answer, Shen Lian moved first. He didn't think... he just acted. He leaned forward and pulled Yuelin into a hug so sudden that Yuelin gasped.
The air went still.
Zhao's jaw fell open. Yuelin's face turned red, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air for a moment before resting gently on Shen's back.
"Shen…" he whispered, cheeks flushed.
Shen didn't let go. "You're fine. That's all that matters."
From the corner, Wen Jun cleared his throat pointedly. "If you two are done," he said, voice perfectly neutral, "tell me what happened here. How did the ghost enter this place? And why did Yuelin start acting strange?"
Zhao frowned, narrowing his eyes. "Wait... how did you know he was acting strange? I never said that."
Wen Jun didn't even blink. "I saw a vision." He gestured toward them. "Now talk."
But neither Shen nor Yuelin seemed to be listening.
They were still sitting close, their hands tangled awkwardly, whispering softly between giggles. Shen was saying something under his breath... something that made Yuelin hide his face shyly against his shoulder.
Zhao stared at them, eyes wide in disbelief. His mind screamed WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL.
He looked helplessly at Wen Jun.
Wen's expression had shifted from stoic calm to quiet resignation... the kind of look that said I have made a terrible mistake by agreeing to be here.
Zhao leaned closer, whispering, "Was your magic too strong or something? What the hell is going on? When the fuck they become so close?"
Wen whispered back dryly, "Are they… not a couple? The way they're acting, I thought they were."
Zhao's jaw dropped further. He turned back toward the bed. Shen was tucking a blanket around Yuelin like he was made of glass, and Yuelin was smiling... actually smiling... shy, soft, and absolutely lovestruck.
Zhao muttered under his breath, "I swear, we just survived an exorcism, and now it's turned into a romantic drama."
Wen Jun sighed, rubbing his temple. "Humans are complicated creatures."
"These two are a nightmare," Zhao hissed.
As if hearing them, Shen finally looked up. "What's wrong?"
Zhao forced a fake smile. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Just watching you two make me feel single and miserable, that's all."
Wen Jun stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. "When you're both done being disgustingly sentimental, I'd like to actually save your lives before the next spirit arrives."
That got Shen's attention. He straightened, though his hand still rested protectively on Yuelin's shoulder.
"What do you mean next?" he asked.
Wen's violet eyes glinted faintly under the dim light. "This wasn't the main spirit," he said. "It was just a messenger. Something… far stronger is tied to you."
The silence that followed was heavy... a strange blend of dread and disbelief.
Shen's eyes flicked toward Yuelin. His voice softened, trembling just a little. "Whatever it is… it won't touch him again."
Wen Jun's gaze lingered on him for a moment, unreadable. Then, finally, he nodded.
Zhao groaned quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Wen Jun looked at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You should."
Zhao glared. "That's not helping."
Yuelin, now fully awake, looked between the three of them... Shen still beside him, Wen calm as ever, Zhao exasperated... and for the first time that night, a small laugh escaped him.
It sounded like sunlight after a long storm.
END OF THE CHAPTER.