The moment his Pie closed her eyes and slipped into meditation, Shu Mingye didn't even pretend to meditate himself. He just sat there, holding her in his lap like a very serious bodyguard with trust issues and a terrifying obsession with his Pie. He watched every twitch of her eyebrows. Every tiny breath. If her eyelashes fluttered too suspiciously, he was ready to intervene.
At first, it went well. Her face was calm. Peaceful. Serene.
"Good," Shu Mingye thought. "Excellent. She's improving. Maybe she won't explode today."
But then her brows furrowed slightly.
"Hmm," he blinked. "That's new."
Then her fingers curled tight, and her body tensed in his arms.
Okay. Not great.
Then she trembled.
Definitely not great.
Shu Mingye's internal alarms started blaring. He held her cheek gently, trying not to crush her delicate face in his rising panic.
"Pie," he said, voice low but urgent.
No answer. Not even an eyebrow twitch. He leaned closer, voice sharper now. "Pie?"
Still no reaction. Her body felt stiff, like she was bracing for impact. Or like she was already in pain. And then, the moment he saw blood sliding from her nose and the corner of her eyes, his heart just stopped. For a second, he forgot how to breathe.
No, no, no.
He grabbed her shoulders firmly, the grip still gentle but shaking with fear. His voice rose, sharp and hoarse. "Linyue! Wake up!"
If she didn't wake up in the next two seconds, he was going in there himself. Array? Spiritual sea? Consciousness realm? He didn't care. He was ready to kick down the door of her soul with a flaming sword and a frying pan if he had to.
Linyue was hit so hard by the pain, she forgot she was still meditating. Her spiritual threads had shattered like fragile teacup, the spiritual energy inside went wild, and the pain roared inside her body. Her eyes snapped open. Before she could say anything, a warm gush rose in her throat. She coughed once, then twice, then splurt. A generous spray of blood flew from her mouth.
Great. She was bleeding. Her vision blurred, the world tilted sideways, and somewhere in that chaos, she heard Shu Mingye's voice—sharp, furious, and very much Not Calm.
"Linyue, what did you do?!"
Uh-oh. He said her name. Not "Pie." That was her official, you're-in-so-much-trouble name. She might as well start digging her own grave. Or better yet, fake unconsciousness. That seemed smarter.
Before she could even flop over dramatically, Shu Mingye was already all over her. His hands cupped her face gently, panic in his eyes. He wiped the blood from her lips with his thumb, then pulled out a black silk handkerchief from inside his robes like he was always prepared for emergency Pie bleeding. Which, honestly, he probably was.
She didn't answer. Not because she was being dramatic, but because her brain was still rebooting. Her eyes blinked slowly, glassy and unfocused.
Shu Mingye leaned closer, voice breaking. "Pie, answer me."
That one word, Pie, was all she needed to hear. Linyue took a slow breath, swallowed what was probably still a mouthful of blood, and answered weakly. "…Yes."
Shu Mingye let out a breath. He looked halfway ready to cry, yell, or throw her over his shoulder and lock her in a very safe box padded with pillows, talismans, and possibly reinforced iron. But instead, he just whispered hoarsely, "You poked it, didn't you?"
Linyue blinked again, quietly considering her life choices. "…Maybe a little."
Shu Mingye's expression twitched. Relief, worry, fury, and betrayal. All danced across his face at once. He didn't know whether to hug her, yell at her, or wrap her in seventeen layers of blankets. His hand, however, moved on its own. He wiped the blood on her chin with the black silk handkerchief, not even realizing how soft his touch had become.
"Pie," he said quietly, "didn't you promise me?"
Linyue muttered weakly, her lips moved in a small pout. "I'm sorry."
"How could my heart be at peace with you like this?" His voice was tight. "You keep breaking your promise."
"I didn't mean to," she mumbled. Then her eyes dropped to the handkerchief in his hand. Black silk. Golden thread shaped in a delicate worm-like pattern. Simple and strange. Not elegant. Just… hers.
Her eyes widened a little. She remembered it now. She had embroidered that with Queen Shu when she was six, sitting on a short stool with chubby cheeks and needle-pricked fingers. It was supposed to be a "dragon" but looked more like a sleepy worm with arthritis. She had given it to him four years ago in the snow.
"You still keep it?" she asked.
Shu Mingye looked surprised for half a second like it had never even occurred to him that most people didn't carry around handkerchiefs embroidered with golden wriggling worm.
"Of course," he said, dead serious. "It's mine."
Linyue gave him a tired smile. "It's mine. You stole it."
Shu Mingye frowned. "You gave it to me. I didn't steal it."
"I lent it to you," she said, clearly enjoying herself now. "And you never returned it. I demand a late return fee."
Shu Mingye narrowed his eyes. "I gave you everything. My heart, my body, my soul. And yet you demand payment for keeping this handkerchief?"
"Yes," Linyue said with the sweet, innocent tone. She looked far too pleased for someone who had just coughed up blood.
He stared at her. "Unbelievable."
She only giggled, the sound soft and mischievous.
Shu Mingye leaned a little closer, voice low and dangerous in that annoying romantic way. "I haven't even demanded payment for you breaking your promise."
"...Let's call it even, then?"
He didn't hesitate. "No."
"No?" she echoed.
"No," he said again, firmly. "I'm keeping the handkerchief. And you still owe me."
Linyue stared at him. "That's not how bargaining works."
"That's how my bargaining works."
She tried to smack him again, but it was more like a light tap with a very sleepy hand. He caught her fingers and kissed them.
"You're so annoying," she mumbled.
"And you're mine," Shu Mingye said with that maddening mix of pride and affection.
Linyue gave him a long look, then sighed. "Fine. Yours."
Chaos couple: bloody, barely upright, yet somehow still functioning and still dangerously affectionate with emotional debts growing.
Shu Mingye smiled, though the worry didn't leave his eyes. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Does it still hurt?"
"I'm fine," Linyue said, smiling faintly. "I didn't even touch it. Or get near it."
Shu Mingye sighed deeply. "I told you to be careful, didn't I? You just never listen. You're not allowed to do it again."
Linyue pouted, her lips curving down. "Alright," she mumbled, clearly unhappy with the terms and conditions.
Shu Mingye stared at her expression. His fierce, stubborn, lovely Pie was pouting. How was he supposed to stay mad at this small bundle of cuteness and near-death decisions?
He gave up, as always, and gently stroked her hair. "You're lucky you're adorable," he muttered.
Linyue blinked innocently and then said, "I figured out the arrays Master placed on me."
That got his attention.
"Really? Was it what hurt you just now?"
Linyue shook her head slowly. "No. They're harmless. I think… they're meant to protect me. One is a lotus-shaped array inside my heart. It helps stabilize spiritual energy. The other is like a golden net around my meridians. Like a barrier. Very delicate." She paused for a moment and added softly, "I'm sure both were placed by Master. Though I don't know when or how."
Shu Mingye nodded, his brows drawn tight as his thoughts turned sharp. So her master had been protecting her from something. Maybe even from that strange self-sealing array. That meant the self-sealing array probably wasn't her master's doing. Which also meant someone else had gotten to her. Someone dangerous. Someone powerful enough to rival her master. And skilled enough in arrays to sneak something into Linyue without anyone noticing. Without even her noticing. He didn't like it. Not one bit.
"Then…" he asked in a low, careful voice, "that one array. The one that's trapping your spiritual energy… was it the thing that caused the reaction just now?"
Linyue nodded. "Mhm. I sensed strange energy from it. It felt familiar. Like Master's. But also… different. Like it was wearing Master's clothes but wasn't really him. That's why I tried to make sure. And then… it backfired."
She glanced down, looking slightly guilty. A little sheepish. And still very much in pain.
Shu Mingye stared at her in silence for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Pie," he said slowly, "you told me before you don't know your cultivation stage. Has it always been like that?"