The world was a blur of crimson and gold. Elena felt as if she were trapped inside a furnace, the "False Fire" she had absorbed from the dying patient at the gala now clawing at her own internal meridians. Every breath felt like inhaling steam, and her skin was so hot it threatened to blister the silk sheets of her bed at Obsidian Manor.
She drifted in and out of consciousness. In the fleeting moments of lucidity, she felt a presence—a grounding, terrifyingly cold presence that kept the flames from consuming her soul.
"Drink this," a voice commanded. It was deep, like the rumble of distant thunder, yet edged with an uncharacteristic tremor of worry.
Elena opened her eyes to see Alexander. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He was holding a bowl of dark, pungent liquid. Behind him, Mrs. Gable stood with a basin of ice water, her face a mask of genuine concern.
"It's... it's the Arctic Root decoction," Elena rasped, her throat feeling like she had swallowed broken glass. "But it's not enough. The poison is in the Triple Burner meridian. It's circulating."
Alexander sat on the edge of the bed. The temperature in the room plummeted. Usually, his "Cold-Yin" curse was a burden, a lethal affliction that isolated him from the world. But now, as Elena's fever surged, he was her only hope. He was the frost to her fire.
"Tell me what to do," Alexander said, his eyes burning with an intensity that made Elena's heart skip a beat—or perhaps that was just the poison.
"The needles... in the third velvet roll," Elena whispered. "You have to strike the Dazhui point at the base of my neck. It's the meeting point of all Yang meridians. You have to vent the heat."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "I am not a doctor, Elena. If I slip—"
"You won't," she reached out, her hand scorching as it brushed against his icy skin. The contrast was a violent jolt to both of them. "Your Qi is steady. Use the cold. Imagine you are freezing the tip of the needle."Getty Images
With a steady hand that belied the turmoil in his chest, Alexander retrieved the silver needle. Under Elena's faint guidance, he found the point at the base of her spine where the neck met the shoulders. He pressed.
A hiss of steam—real, visible steam—escaped Elena's skin as the needle pierced the point. She let out a choked cry, her body arching off the bed. Alexander immediately dropped the needle and pulled her into his arms, his cold skin acting as a living compress against her burning back.
"Shh," he murmured into her hair, his arms locking around her. "I have you. The fire is leaving. Give it to me."
Elena slumped against him. She could feel the jagged, freezing energy of his curse rushing toward her, greedily swallowing the excess heat she had taken from the gala. It was a dangerous alchemy—two poisons neutralizing each other within their joined embrace.
For an hour, they remained like that. The frost on the windows of the suite began to melt, and the oppressive heat in Elena's chest subsided into a dull, manageable ache. As her breathing leveled out, she realized she was pressed flush against Alexander's bare chest. The scent of sandalwood and winter air enveloped her, and for the first time in years, Elena felt safe.
"You're a fool," Alexander whispered, his chin resting on top of her head. "You risked your life for a man you didn't know, just to prove a point to a sister who hates you."
"I didn't do it to prove a point," Elena murmured, her voice returning to her. "I did it because the man was innocent. And because... because if I let my father's medicine be used for murder, then the Lin family truly is dead."
Alexander pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The moonlight reflected off the rubies still at her neck, making her look like a wounded goddess. "Vane Medical is finished. Their stock dropped sixty percent in three hours. Victoria is currently under 'administrative detention' for medical endangerment. The world knows she's a fraud."
A small, tired smile touched Elena's lips. "Good. But she's not the one I'm worried about now."
"The Valley?" Alexander asked, his gaze darkening.
"The message on my phone," Elena said. "The Valley of the Sun. They were my father's original sect. They believe TCM belongs to the shadows, to be used only by those they deem worthy. They framed my father because he wanted to bring these techniques to the modern world. To them, I am a traitor who is 'prostituting' sacred arts to a billionaire."
Alexander's grip on her tightened, his possessive streak flaring. "Let them come. I've built an empire on the bones of people who thought they were 'sacred.' No one touches what is mine."
Mine. The word echoed in Elena's mind. She was his wife by contract, a healer by necessity, but the way he said it felt like something much more permanent.
Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door broke the intimacy of the moment. Alexander's assistant, Leo, stepped in, looking uncharacteristically rattled.
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a situation at the hospital. The Diamond Suite."
Alexander stood up, his face instantly returning to its mask of cold marble. "My grandfather?"
"No, sir. Old Man Blackwood is fine. It's... it's Mrs. Lin. Elena's mother."
Elena bolted upright, the last of her fatigue vanishing in a surge of adrenaline. "What happened? Is she—"
"She's awake, Miss Elena," Leo said, his voice trembling. "But she's not speaking English. She's speaking in a dialect the nurses don't recognize. And... she's demanding to see the 'Keeper of the Needle.'"
Elena's blood turned to ice. The Keeper of the Needle was a title used only within the inner circles of the medical sects. Her mother had been in a coma for years—how could she wake up now, immediately after Elena used the Phoenix Needle in public?
"It's a trap," Elena whispered, looking at Alexander. "The Valley... they didn't just send a message. They've already reached her."
Alexander grabbed his jacket, his eyes flashing with a predatory light. "Then we go to the hospital. If they think they can use your mother as a chess piece, they've vastly underestimated who they're playing against."
As they hurried toward the elevators, Elena caught a glimpse of her reflection in the hallway mirror. She was still wearing the torn crimson gown, her hair disheveled, her skin pale. She looked like a woman who had been through a war.
But as she looked at Alexander walking beside her—the man who had just carried her fire—she realized she wasn't alone.
In the ancient cycle of the Five Elements, Water overcomes Fire. But in the strange world of the Blackwoods and the Lins, the fire and the ice were beginning to forge something new—something that the Valley, in all its ancient wisdom, had never foreseen.
"Alexander," Elena said as they stepped into the car. "If this is a trap, they will expect me to be weak. They expect a daughter, not a Master."
Alexander looked at her, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. "Then let's show them what happens when the Phoenix truly finds its wings."
The car sped into the night, heading toward a confrontation that would change the medical world forever. But as the hospital came into view, Elena saw something that made her heart stop.
Every light in the Jiangcheng General Hospital was flickering in a strange, rhythmic pattern. And standing at the entrance, illuminated by the strobing glare, was a man in a long, traditional robe of saffron silk, holding a staff tipped with a silver needle that mirrored her own.
The Trial of the Nine Heavens had arrived.