Chapter 6: The Heart of Thunder and The Synchronization Flirt
Training sessions with Crown Prince Han Jinhai felt less like spiritual practice and more like attending a very intense, very exclusive lecture taught by a walking, talking glacier.
The morning air was exceptionally crisp, the northern courtyard gleaming beautifully with a layer of fresh frost as the Prince stood waiting in his usual, unnerving state of perfect stillness.
Lin Xue, on the other hand, arrived predictably late—again.
She shuffled in, yawning dramatically, her hair only half-tied up in a messy bun, and clutching a tall cup of what she earnestly swore was "morning motivation tea."
"You're late, Lady Lin," he stated flatly, for what felt like the third time that week.
"I'm consistently late, Your Highness," she countered, setting her cup down carefully outside the training circle.
"That, in the software industry, is actually called reliability."
He let out a short, sharp sigh of exasperation.
"You are utterly impossible."
"I prefer the term 'innovative,' but I'll take impossible," she chirped, straightening her robes.
The courtyard had been extensively refitted for their joint sessions.
Thick, visible wards glowed softly along the stone edges, and complex barriers woven from ice and light were erected to keep any "accidental lightning surges" contained.
A small, carefully positioned handful of guards stood discreetly outside the perimeter, pretending very hard not to watch the spectacle.
The new palace rumor was that whenever Lady Lin Xue so much as sneezed, the very sky flickered with electric blue light.
"Today," Jinhai announced, stepping into the center of the ring, "we will practice resonance."
She blinked, confused.
"Resonance like, uh, doing a duet for the court? Because fair warning, Your Highness, I can't carry a tune even with two hands and a bucket."
He visibly pinched the bridge of his nose—a gesture she was starting to see quite often. "Spiritual resonance, Lady Lin.
It means matching your qi rhythm perfectly to mine, and stabilizing the conflicting elements."
"Oh! You could have just said 'sync up,' Your Highness.
That's easy."
"I'm starting to genuinely suspect your original world lacks proper reverence for spiritual concepts."
"Not true!" she defended.
"We just revere efficiency, and efficient code is well-synced code."
He didn't bother replying this time.
Instead, he drew his sword—a stunning, slender blade made of pure, glittering frost—and planted the tip gently into the ground between them.
A perfect circle of pale, cold energy immediately radiated outward from the blade.
"Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice dropping to a quiet, commanding whisper. "Focus entirely on the rhythm of your breath. Let your lightning qi cautiously follow the rhythm of my frost."
Lin Xue exhaled slowly, focusing inward. She felt the familiar, nervous tension of her elemental power.
Bright lightning flickered along her fingertips, restless but—for the first time—obedient.
She could clearly feel his energy: it was steady, intensely cool, and perfectly disciplined, moving like the slow, powerful heartbeat of winter.
When she aligned her own energy—which was bright, quick, and constantly sparking like volatile electricity—something satisfyingly clicked.
The air between them shimmered visibly.
Their conflicting energies met, twisted beautifully around each other, and began to spiral in perfect, contained harmony.
Frost laced with silver, electric light. Lightning humming through perfectly crystallized ice.
It was beautiful, precise—and absolutely terrifying in its power.
Jinhai opened his eyes, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his face.
"You're adapting faster than any master cultivator."
She grinned, unable to resist the playful jab. "I'm a quick learner.
Especially when the teacher is unexpectedly handsome."
He instantly froze, his posture stiffening rigidly.
"That's not—"
"Focus, Your Highness," she interrupted quickly, her eyes still closed, maintaining the link.
"You're losing synchronization.
Your core rhythm is wavering."
He looked like he desperately wanted to argue with her, but the urgent need to maintain the unstable power balance overruled him.
The energy wavered precariously, then stabilized again, but not before Lin Xue felt a slight, tell-tale blush warm his normally frosty aura.
Minutes passed in powerful, shared silence.
For the first time since she arrived, Lin Xue wasn't cracking a joke or thinking about tech.
She was deeply attuned, entirely calm, and strangely at peace.
The harmony was intoxicating.
Then, the jade pendant on her chest began to glow fiercely, responding to the intensity of their perfect resonance.
It pulsed once, sending a powerful, soundless echo across the courtyard.
The frost barriers shimmered violently, and the air crackled with a combined energy that felt immense.
Jinhai's breath audibly caught in his throat. He felt it too—a deep, ancient rhythm that wasn't his own heart, yet beat in flawless time with it.
"Do you feel that?" Lin Xue asked softly, her eyes still closed, a genuine wonder in her voice.
"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
"It's… weirdly nice.
Like everything finally makes sense."
"Yes," he repeated, the word sounding hesitant and profound at once.
She opened one eye, peering at his rigid profile.
"You okay, or did our synergy just short-circuit your prince-processor?"
He didn't answer right away.
His expression was completely unreadable—but his hand trembled slightly on the frost sword's hilt.
The moment stretched between them—fragile, intimate, and charged with more power than their combined qi.
And then—
Boom.
The pendant flared like a supernova.
The intricate frost circle shattered completely.
A massive, concentrated burst of lightning shot upward, splitting the heavy gray clouds with a dazzling crack that reverberated across the capital.
Both of them were thrown violently backward, landing ungracefully in the pristine snow outside the wreckage of the barriers.
Lin Xue groaned dramatically, rubbing her lower back.
"Okay. So… maybe 80% synchronization is our current safe limit, Your Highness."
Jinhai exhaled slowly, dusting clean snow off his silver-blue sleeve with dignity.
"You call that '80%'?"
"Fine, 70%," she conceded, sitting up. "Don't be so dramatic.
We nearly summoned a controllable thunderstorm over the capital.
That's impressive."
He stared at her, his expression a fascinating internal struggle between deep frustration and reluctant, undeniable amusement.
"You nearly destabilized the spiritual matrix of the palace."
"I call that progress," she declared proudly.
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By noon, half the palace had already heard the story, and the other half was busy inventing new, more romantic details.
"Did you hear? The Crown Prince was seen training alone with the lightning girl!"
"They say their qi merged in perfect harmony! Such passion!"
"Merged? In broad daylight? Goodness! Scandalous!"
By evening, the whispers had inevitably evolved into highly dramatic, flowery poetry.
"Her lightning sings, his frost replies—"
"—and together, the heavens tremble with their destined love."
Lin Xue nearly choked on her dinner when one of the maids, blushing furiously, nervously recited that exact line.
"Seriously!" she demanded, looking around her private dining room.
"Why is everyone in this palace acting like we just eloped mid-cultivation practice?"
The maid turned a furious shade of crimson. "M-My lady, the entire court saw the pillar of light! It was… not exactly subtle.
It looked like an invitation to the heavens!"
Jinhai, seated across the table, remained perfectly silent.
But the faint, tell-tale pink coloring his ears gave him completely away.
"Relax, Your Highness," she teased, leaning forward.
"At least we look incredibly impressive together."
"That," he said quietly, finally looking up, "is precisely what concerns me."
"Why? Afraid people will ship us?"
He frowned, genuinely perplexed.
"I do not know what this nautical term means, Lady Lin."
"Trust me," she said with a mischievous grin. "You really, really don't want to know."
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That night, while the entire city buzzed with the day's explosive gossip, Jinhai stood alone in his quiet study, staring intently at the moonlight reflecting on the perfect, crystalline surface of his sword.
He had always been taught the utmost discipline and control—control of his movements, his potent power, his every emotion, and the path of his destiny.
But with her, that rigid discipline felt like sand slipping through his fingers.
Every single time their volatile energies touched, he felt something deeper, something profoundly raw and alive, stirring within him—something he utterly lacked the ancient words for.
"Foreign light…" he murmured, recalling the First Protector's prophecy.
A soft, hesitant knock interrupted his deep thoughts.
"Come in," he said, instantly composing his features.
Lin Xue peered around the heavy door, holding a delicate, steaming tray.
"Peace offering," she whispered.
"I made tea.
It is probably safe, this time."
He raised a skeptical brow.
"Probably safe?"
"I'm improving! That's the important thing." She stepped inside, setting the tray down gently.
"Thought you might need a break from intense royal brooding."
"I was not brooding."
"You were absolutely, totally brooding.
I could practically hear the sad cello music from here."
He sighed deeply but accepted the offered cup of tea.
"You truly are insufferable."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
They sat in companionable silence for a while.
Outside, thunder rumbled softly in the gathering distance, answering the energy still humming in the air.
"You really think this resonance thing means something serious?" she asked him finally, her usual joking tone gone.
He met her gaze, his own eyes intensely serious.
"Everything the heavens involve themselves in has deep meaning.
Even the things that terrify us beyond reason."
For once, Lin Xue didn't offer a sarcastic retort.
"Then I guess we're both in deep, deep trouble."
He looked at her—really looked—and said quietly, with a rare, honest vulnerability, "Maybe."
The thunder rolled again, low and steady. The jade pendant pulsed once, faintly glowing between them, a shared warmth in the dark room.
Neither of them spoke of it again, but both felt it strongly:
The brewing storm between them wasn't going to fade away.
It was only just beginning to gather force.