A heavy reverberation rolled up from the depths of the Soul Well.
Black mist crawled along the fractured formation lines—like icy hands reaching for the living, trying to hook them down.
Ye Yi stood at the rim of the pit, fingers brushing the residual nightmare threads.
—"Soul Lock."
Once, he used this art as the first stage before soul-theft:
to clamp down on a target's consciousness, leaving no escape from his soul-domain.
Now, the technique had turned inward.
What it locked… wasn't a soul.
It was emotion.
It was Ling Dang.
That small thing who was terrified out of her mind, yet still curled in the corner of the hall to steal glances at him.
He had thought the irritation, the impatience, the dull pressure beneath his ribs—
all of it was because she was foolish, weak, clinging to this body that once belonged to her brother.
But when she cried in her sleep—
"Brother Luo… Dang'er… I miss you so much…"
—in that instant, something stabbed clean through his chest.
Not demonic qi.
Not a soul-formation.
But feeling.
Ye Yi stood frozen for a long time, until the underworld wind from the Soul Well slid under his robes. Only then did he lower his voice and murmur,
"…This shouldn't exist inside me."
He raised his palm. Demonic qi surged between his fingers—
but when it drew near his heart, it shuddered and recoiled on its own.
As if refusing to touch that place.
Ye Yi suddenly remembered a time so distant it felt unreal—
before he fell, before he became a demon.
Back then, he had fallen in love with a Saintess.
Yan Ling.
Mother of Si Chengxun—the Empress Dowager.
Grandmother of Si Moheng (not by blood, yet still addressed as "Grandmother").
A taboo no one should have known.
She was cool and brilliant, her bearing flawless; moonlight made flesh—
a divine woman revered by every priest.
And he… had dared to want her.
Yan Ling chose the then-Emperor, Si Jian.
She refused Ye Yi.
His heart broke completely—
and that fracture became the start of his descent.
He had loved too deeply, too obsessively.
Obsessive enough to try using nightmare-soul arts to lock her fate.
Obsessive enough to dream of stealing the Emperor's body—
holding her and the entire Yao Realm inside his grasp.
Ye Yi lowered his eyes.
"I thought… I would never feel this again."
That love he could not have had been buried in the deepest chamber of his demon years.
He believed becoming a demon had erased every softness.
He believed he was no longer human at all.
Until—
In the Demon Capital ruins, a little girl told him, "The wind outside is cold… be careful…"
Until she feared the dark, feared the cold, yet still hugged Ling Shuo's coat and whispered, "Are you… hungry?"
Until she collapsed from hunger in his arms and trembled out, "Brother Luo… Dang'er misses you…"
Ye Yi's chest seized again.
It wasn't Yan Ling.
Not his old obsession.
Not the hunger to possess the world.
It was something far more stripped down—
concern.
Pure, blunt, undeniable.
For that foolish, stubborn, terrified girl who feared him—yet never ran.
Ye Yi shut his eyes hard, teeth clenched.
"…How could I… commit the same mistake through you?"
Demonic qi burst across the back of his hand, fissures splitting skin—
and he couldn't suppress it.
This wasn't pity.
Not protectiveness.
This was—
possession.
Something that should have died the day he fell, now waking again.
Without realizing it, he had walked to Ling Dang's stone couch.
She was curled into a ball, arms wrapped around the sleeve, brow tightly knit—
as if in the dark she was still trying to clutch a single thread of light.
Ye Yi looked down at her.
She slept restlessly, clutching Ling Shuo's coat, frowning like a child searching for warmth in blackness.
That place in his chest grew heavy, aching.
He whispered, "…Little thing… are you reminding me…"
"That I'm still… a creature capable of attachment?"
His fingers lifted—then stopped an inch from her forehead.
For the first time, Ye Yi understood—
What he felt for her was no longer merely irritation.
No longer merely a pawn.
He cared about her crying.
Cared that she was hungry.
Cared that she called someone else's name in her dreams.
He even—
cared that what she relied on wasn't him, but Ling Shuo.
His eyes darkened, like a deep sea turning in a storm.
"…Not allowed."
Demonic qi detonated in his palm.
Ye Yi murmured—maybe to Ling Dang, maybe to himself:
"I'll make you remember… that here, you belong to me."
The gray fog of the Demon Capital rose.
A low roar answered from the Soul Well's depths.
—Ye Yi's possessiveness finally, fully awakened.
And he finally understood:
The beginning of all of it was this seemingly fragile little girl—
carving the first new Soul Lock into his heart.
Ye Yi stood within the shadows and watched.
He watched her for a long time.
Long enough to hear that forbidden thing inside his ribs—
emotion—pounding again and again.
The moment she called Luo Ye's name in her dream, he knew he had lost control.
But he was not someone ruled by emotion.
Before he fell, he could force his heart into silence.
After he fell, he would never allow "feeling" to command him.
If he had begun to care—
then he would not flee.
He would control it.
Make her depend on him completely.
Ye Yi moved toward the stone couch, steady and soundless.
Ling Dang sensed movement and blinked awake, dazed.
Through the thick fog, his shadow was tall—
pressure heavy enough to make her bones tremble.
She shrank back.
"B-bro… Ye Yi…?"
Her voice was small as a rabbit's.
Ye Yi bent down. His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.
His voice was low, cold as black stone beneath the mist.
"You called someone else's name in your dream."
Ling Dang's face drained white. She shook her head in panic.
"I-I didn't mean to… I was just scared…"
Ye Yi's thumb pressed slowly against her lower lip.
So gentle—
and yet it felt like a lock snapping shut around her heartbeat.
"Scared?"
He laughed quietly.
"Then you should remember—what keeps you alive here isn't Luo Ye."
He leaned closer. Long hair fell over her shoulder. Dark mist rolled around him like tidewater.
"It's me."
Ling Dang's breathing broke. She tried to retreat—
but Ye Yi's hand pinned the back of her neck, like catching a small animal that could not escape.
His gaze held her. He did not allow her eyes to run.
"You fear the dark."
"You fear the cold."
"You fear being alone."
With every item he named, she trembled once.
At last, he delivered it like a verdict:
"And I am the only person you can lean on."
Ling Dang whispered, shaky, "B-because you took my brother's body…"
Ye Yi's eyes sank into something vicious.
"No."
He leaned in until his forehead nearly touched hers.
"What you will rely on…"
"is me."
Black mist gathered in his palm. From the Soul Well's depth rose a thread of warmth—
not to torment,
but to make her not cold.
He pressed that warmth into her soul-line.
Her body temperature rose slowly, like being wrapped in firelight by a hearth.
Ling Dang froze.
For the first time—
the Demon Capital did not feel so cold.
"T-this… is for me?"
Her eyes reddened, uncertain and soft.
A flicker of cold crossed Ye Yi's gaze, but his voice remained flat—absolute—as if declaring ownership.
"From today on, your warmth is given by me."
Ling Dang's heart went wild, as if trying to leap out of her chest.
She didn't understand why he was doing this.
Why he had suddenly begun to—pull her closer.
But Ye Yi understood perfectly.
He had no intention of letting her go.
And he had no intention of letting her call anyone else's name again.
He would make this little thing—
in the Demon Capital's black fog,
between fear and dependence,
between loneliness and his presence—
step by step,
until only he remained.
Ye Yi reached out and lifted her, placing her in a corner closer to him.
"Starting tonight, you sleep here."
Ling Dang stammered, "S-so close to you…?"
Ye Yi gave her no space to retreat.
"You need me."
Cold and final.
Like an order.
Like fate.
Like a possession buried for years—finally awake.
Ye Yi sat beside her. His fingertip tapped lightly at the center of her forehead.
"Remember."
"Only I can protect you here."
"And only I… allow you to depend on me."
Ling Dang stared, heart a mess, tears slipping free.
Outside the mist, the Soul Well wind howled.
But Ye Yi's voice sank into her like an oath:
"From today on—
your fear, your hunger, your sleep…"
"will all be controlled by me."
He lifted her small hand and pressed it to his chest.
That was Ling Shuo's body.
And it was the illusion he deliberately fed her.
"You can cling to whoever you want."
Ye Yi murmured, "It won't matter."
"In the end, you will only cling to me."
Tonight, the Nether qi around the Soul Well was especially dense.
Ye Yi sat upon a half-collapsed black stone pillar, idly turning a thin strand of nightmare-thread between his fingers.
The thread moved like a serpent, stretching outward—quietly locking the little figure in the hall's corner.
Ling Dang hugged Ling Shuo's coat and shrank into herself.
She had always eaten a lot, but the Demon Capital's food barely went down; she'd grown thinner, her shoulders sharper.
—Then Ye Yi lifted his hand.
The nightmare-thread coiled soundlessly around Ling Dang's wrist.
"Ah—!"
She jumped, stumbling back in panic, tears instantly gathering.
"Y-you—you… what are you doing now…?"
Ye Yi looked at her lazily.
"Bringing you here."
One sentence.
A command.
Ling Dang clutched the coat, shaking like a rabbit about to bolt.
"I-I can stay here… I won't run…"
Ye Yi's eyes were pale and empty, as if even the mist chilled a layer.
"I said—come here."
The thread snapped tight.
Ling Dang was yanked forward, nearly falling into his arms.
She didn't know where to put her hands. Even her breathing broke.
"I-I didn't mean to stay far from you… I just…"
She couldn't finish.
Because she knew—
She didn't dare get close because she was afraid.
But if she got too close, her instincts would treat him like her brother's shadow.
That contradiction tangled her throat until she wanted to cry.
Ye Yi lowered his head, watching her uneven breaths and trembling shoulders.
Something strange throbbed in his chest.
He reached out, slowly cupped her jaw, and forced her to meet his gaze.
"You're afraid of me."
Ling Dang nodded hard.
"But—" Ye Yi leaned closer, voice lowered to a near-whisper, "you're even more afraid of not having me."
Ling Dang froze, face flushing hot as firelight.
"I-I'm not…"
"Not?" Ye Yi scoffed softly, fingers tightening to lift her chin higher by a fraction. "Then whose sleeve did you clutch when you fainted?"
Ling Dang went rigid.
"And whose name did you cry in your dream?"
Her face turned white—
that line, "Brother Luo… Dang'er misses you…" stabbed straight through her.
In Ye Yi's eyes, demonic light tightened to a hard point.
"You think I'll let you say his name again?"
That tone wasn't just anger.
It was—
possession.
Ling Dang didn't dare breathe.
Ye Yi's voice brushed her ear, cold and slow:
"You fear the dark. You fear the cold. You fear being alone."
"Every time I'm one step farther, you start shaking."
"You think I don't know?"
Her spine went numb.
His fingers slid along her jawline, stopping at the place over her heart.
"Here—why is it beating so wildly?"
Her heart pounded, loud and frantic, like it was going to burst from her ribs.
Her face was red, hands trembling, tears on the brink.
"D-don't do this… I really, really didn't mean…"
Ye Yi suddenly let out a low laugh.
"Your panic is exactly what I want."
The words cut through her shame and confusion like a blade.
At last she couldn't hold it. Her eyes reddened, tears breaking free.
"Why… are you treating me like this…?"
Ye Yi's hand fell on her shoulder and pressed her into his arms.
Low, he said:
"Because you fear, because you cry, because you depend…"
"Because without me, your whole body trembles."
"These—" his voice stayed flat, "are the shackles I use to lock you."
Ling Dang's pupils shook.
And Ye Yi added, softly, almost unwilling:
"…They're also what I can't escape."
He let demonic qi boil at his fingertips—then forced it down.
"Ling Dang."
"Remember it."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against her hairline.
"You panic because of me."
"You fear because of me."
"And you will depend—only on me."
Ling Dang went still, tears sliding down her cheeks.
She realized then—
Ye Yi wasn't merely using her.
He was deliberately, step by step, turning himself into her only light.
And she…
was truly starting to panic.