The stone behind Lin Xue moved like a slow lid. It slid forward with a grinding sound, closing the world behind her inch by inch. Her shoulders were already through the crack, but her hips were still outside, caught in the worst place—half saved, half taken.
Wei Chen's fingers locked around hers so hard it hurt. "Lin Xue!" he shouted, voice raw. "Kick—push—anything!"
Lin Xue tried. The rock scraped her sleeves. Cold bit her skin. Panic pushed her curse to the surface, frost spilling from her lashes, from her hair. The Frost-Eater's gold-black eye filled the crack behind her like a watching star, and its whisper slid into her mind like a blade: Come home.
Lin Xue's breath shook. She forced her eyes to Wei Chen's hand—warm, real. She grabbed his wrist mark through the crack like she was holding onto life itself. "Chen Wei," she gasped. "Say my name. Stay real."
Wei Chen's throat worked. He stared at her like he could pull her back into the world just by wanting it enough. "Lin Xue," he said.
"Again," she demanded, fierce even while trapped.
"Lin Xue," he said louder.
The bond rope flared warm between them. The Frost-Eater's eye blinked back like it hated the light of their choice.
Then Wei Chen's black sun brand pulsed, cold and hungry, and Su Mei's voice purred from inside his chest.
"Let her go," it whispered. "The lid closes either way. Save yourself, Chen Wei."
Wei Chen's face went hard. "Don't use her voice," he snarled. "You don't get to speak like that."
Lin Xue heard it and flinched. "Su Mei…?" she whispered, but the tone in the whisper wasn't Su Mei at all.
The stone lid slid closer. Lin Xue's ribs tightened. She couldn't breathe properly. Her curse surged again, wild, trying to freeze the crack and stop the closing rock. It only made the air sharper. It only made the panic louder.
Wei Chen pressed his forehead to her knuckles through the narrow space, a desperate, intimate touch. "Rules," he whispered. "Stop means stop. You choose. Do you still choose this?"
Lin Xue's eyes stung. She couldn't lie. Not now. "Yes," she whispered. "Pull me in. I choose you."
Wei Chen's breath broke like that answer hit him in the chest. He kissed her fingers—one, two—fast and fierce, like he was counting promises. "Good," he rasped. "Then hold on."
He snapped his folding fan open with his free hand and jammed it into the edge of the closing stone. Metal screamed against rock. For one heartbeat, the lid slowed.
Su Mei's voice laughed softly from his brand. "Cute."
Wei Chen ignored it. He leaned closer to Lin Xue, mouth near her ear through the crack, voice low and wicked even in terror. "When we live," he murmured, "you're going to admit you like being held like this."
Lin Xue's cheeks burned—furious, embarrassed, alive. "Idiot," she hissed, then her voice softened without permission. "Just… don't let go."
Wei Chen's hand tightened. "Never."
The lid pushed again. The fan bent. The crack shuddered.
Wei Chen felt it then—the choice that would break him either way. If he poured more Nine-Suns heat into the gate, it would widen enough to yank Lin Xue fully in… and widen enough for the Frost-Eater to slip a piece of itself through.
Wei Chen looked at Lin Xue's face, pale with fear, eyes still stubborn. He didn't hesitate.
He chose her.
Wei Chen inhaled, deep, and let his Nine-Suns fire rise—not as a blast, but as a focused river. Golden heat surged down his arm, into the bond, into Lin Xue. It wasn't violent. It was intimate. It was the same warmth he used to keep her curse from killing her. The same warmth that made her breathe again.
Lin Xue gasped, body shivering as heat met frost. Her curse fought, then steadied, like it remembered him. The bond rope flared gold-silver, humming so loud it felt like the tunnel itself could hear it.
Wei Chen whispered, "Stay with me."
Lin Xue swallowed. "Always," she whispered back.
The crack widened.
The stone lid hesitated.
And the Frost-Eater's eye surged closer, furious, like it felt the door slipping from its control.
Wei Chen growled and pulled.
Lin Xue's body slid, scraping through stone. Her hips cleared the crack. The outside world vanished as the lid slammed shut behind her with a final, coffin-heavy boom.
Silence hit like a wall.
Lin Xue fell forward into Wei Chen's arms. He went down with her, rolling to take the удар, his back hitting cold stone. Lin Xue landed on top of him, breathless, trembling, hands grabbing his robe like she didn't trust the world to stay solid.
Wei Chen cupped her face. His grin tried to appear, shaky and real. "You're inside," he whispered.
Lin Xue's eyes flashed, wet and furious. "Of course I'm inside," she snapped. "Did you think I would let you die alone?"
Wei Chen's laugh came out broken. "No," he murmured. "I just… wanted to hear you say it."
Lin Xue's cheeks warmed despite everything. She leaned down and kissed him—deep, desperate, chosen. Wei Chen kissed her back like he was starving for something real. His hand slid to her waist, holding her there, anchoring himself under her weight. For a few breaths, the tunnel, the monster, the lie—everything faded behind the simple truth of heat and frost meeting in the same heartbeat.
Wei Chen pulled back just enough to ask, low and clear, "Do you want me to stop?"
Lin Xue shook her head. "Don't stop," she whispered. "Not yet."
Wei Chen kissed her once more—slower now—then pressed his forehead to hers. "I choose you," he whispered. "Again. And again."
Lin Xue's voice softened, barely there. "Good."
A soft clap echoed from the blue-lit tunnel ahead.
They froze.
The copy of Lin Xue stepped out of the pale light, smiling sweetly like a teacher welcoming late students. Behind her, Su Mei stood upright too—too upright—her eyes still black, her expression calm and wrong, like she was listening to a voice inside her head.
The copy tilted its head. "How romantic," it said. "You sealed yourselves in."
Wei Chen's black sun brand throbbed.
Su Mei's lips moved, but the voice that came out wasn't hers. It was the same purr that had spoken from his chest.
"Good," it whispered. "Now the coffin is closed… and the key is inside."
Lin Xue's wrist mark burned hot, then cold, then hot again. The bond rope flickered like a candle in wind.
And on Wei Chen's chest, the black sun brand cracked open—just a thin line—
and a cold breath slid out into the tunnel.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.