The morning after the "Trial of the Nine Heavens" didn't bring peace; it brought a sterile, blinding silence that felt like the calm before a hurricane. The Diamond Suite was no longer just a hospital room—it was a fortress. Alexander's personal security team, clad in black suits and earpieces, stood every five feet along the corridor, their faces grim.
Inside the room, the air was heavy with the scent of bitter herbs and the metallic tang of burnt ozone. Elena sat by Alexander's bed, her fingers pressed firmly against his wrist.
Her brow furrowed in concentration. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the pulse is a window into the soul's geography. But Alexander's pulse was a terrain she didn't recognize. Usually, a pulse is categorized by its depth, speed, and strength. Alexander's was none of those. It felt like a torrential river of fire flowing beneath a layer of permafrost.
"The Three Dantians are in total disarray," Elena whispered to herself, her eyes tracing the meridian map in her mind.
"His Lower Dantian is a cauldron of that golden Sun energy he absorbed from the dragon," she murmured. "But his Middle Dantian—his heart—is still locked in the 'Cold-Yin' curse. The two are fighting for dominance. If the gold reaches his brain before I can harmonize them, he won't just be a 'Vessel.' He'll be a vegetable."
"He has the constitution of a mountain, Elena. Do not underestimate the man you chose to marry."
Elena looked up. Her mother, Sarah Lin, was propped up on pillows in the adjacent bed. Though her skin was still the color of parchment, her eyes were sharp, reflecting the wisdom of the Lin ancestors.
"Mother, you said he's the Vessel the Valley has been searching for," Elena said, her voice trembling. "What does that mean for him? For us?"
Sarah sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand-year-old secret. "The Valley of the Sun doesn't just want to heal people, Elena. They want to transcend. They believe that by funnelling 'Supreme Yang' energy into a human body that can act as an insulator, they can bridge the gap between the mortal and the divine. Alexander's 'Cold-Yin' affliction... it wasn't a random disease. I suspect the Blackwood family was marked generations ago. He was bred to be this insulator."
Elena's heart froze. She looked at Alexander's sleeping face—the sharp jawline, the lashes that cast long shadows on his high cheekbones. He wasn't just a CEO; he was a living battery for a cult of fanatics.
"Miss Elena."
Leo, Alexander's assistant, entered the room, his face pale. "The vultures have arrived. Chairman Sterling from the Blackwood Board of Directors is outside, along with three inspectors from the National Health Bureau. They're claiming that 'irregular medical procedures' were performed last night during the power surge. They want to see Mr. Blackwood. Now."
Elena stood up, her jaw tightening. She looked at the monitors hooked up to Alexander. The EKG was showing a heart rate of 140, yet his body temperature was a chilling 94 degrees. If the inspectors saw these numbers, they would declare him medically unfit and seize control of the company—or worse, hand him over to a 'government-sanctioned' facility that was likely a front for the Vane Group.
"Leo, block the door for five minutes," Elena commanded.
"But, ma'am, they have a court-ordered health mandate—"
"Five minutes!" Elena snapped.
As Leo stepped out to hold the line, Elena turned to her medical kit. She pulled out thirteen long, black needles—the Thirteen Ghost Needles. In folklore, they were used to treat insanity or demonic possession. In the Lin family's secret archives, they were used for Spiritual Camouflage.
"Elena, you're going to suppress his aura?" Sarah asked, her voice hushed. "That's dangerous. The pressure build-up could—"
"I have to hide the gold," Elena said, her hands moving with a blur of speed.
She struck the Ghost Point at the base of Alexander's skull, then worked her way down his spine. As each needle sank in, the faint golden glow beneath his skin dimmed. The EKG monitor began to slow down, the erratic spikes smoothing out into a deceptive, normal rhythm.
With the last needle, she struck the center of the blue-black star on his chest. Alexander's body jerked, a low groan escaping his lips, but he didn't wake. The star turned a dull, lifeless grey.
"Open the doors," Elena said, wiping the sweat from her lip and throwing her silk robe over her torn crimson gown.
The doors burst open. Chairman Sterling, a man whose jowls shook with every step, marched in, followed by two stern-faced women in white coats carrying tablets.
"Mrs. Blackwood, I presume?" Sterling said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I am here on behalf of the shareholders. We've received reports of... unconventional treatments. My colleagues from the Bureau are here to ensure that the CEO of the world's largest conglomerate isn't being subjected to 'herbalist' delusions."
Elena stood in front of Alexander's bed, her arms crossed. "Chairman Sterling, you're stepping into my husband's private suite without an invitation. In my world, that's called trespassing. In your world, I believe it's called a career-ending mistake."
"We have the right to inspect—" one of the Bureau doctors started, stepping toward the monitors.
"Inspect away," Elena stepped aside, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The doctor checked the EKG. 72 beats per minute. Steady. She checked his temperature. 98.6 degrees. Perfect. She even lifted Alexander's eyelid. Pupils reactive.
The doctor looked at Sterling and shook her head. "Everything seems... perfectly normal, Chairman. Better than normal, actually. His vitals are more stable than they were in his last quarterly report."
Sterling's face turned a mottled purple. "But the power surge! The lights! We saw a woman on the balcony—"
"The hospital had a transformer failure," Elena interrupted, her voice cool. "And as for the 'woman,' perhaps you should spend less time listening to hospital gossip and more time looking at the Vane Group's bankruptcy filings. I hear there are some very lucrative assets for sale. If you're quick, the Blackwood Group might actually profit from your incompetence."
Sterling sputtered, but with the Bureau doctors declaring Alexander healthy, he had no legal ground to stand on. He turned on his heel and stomped out, his entourage following like frightened sheep.
As the door clicked shut, Elena collapsed into a chair, her legs turning to jelly. "That... was too close."
"You did well, little Phoenix," Sarah whispered.
But the victory was short-lived. A hand, cold as ice yet etched with a searing heat, suddenly reached out and grabbed Elena's wrist.
She gasped. Alexander was awake.
But he wasn't looking at her with the eyes of the man she had married. His pupils were no longer dark; they were ringed with a brilliant, molten gold that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of a heartbeat.
"Elena," he said, his voice no longer a human baritone, but a resonant sound that made the glass of the water pitcher on the nightstand crack. "I can see them."
"See who, Alexander?"
"The meridians of the city," he whispered, sitting up with a fluid, terrifying grace. The thirteen needles Elena had placed to suppress him simply slid out of his skin, falling to the floor with a synchronized clink. "I can see the life-flow of everyone in this building. I can see the rot in Sterling's heart and the fire in yours."
He looked at his hand—the one that had been charred by the dragon. It was perfectly healed, the skin smooth and unmarked.
"Alexander, you need to stay calm," Elena said, reaching for a needle to sedate him. "The energy is too high. Your mind is—"
He caught her hand mid-air. His grip wasn't painful, but it was absolute.
"My mind has never been clearer," Alexander said. He stood up, the hospital gown falling away to reveal a physique that seemed to have been refined by fire. The star on his chest was now a deep, burnished gold. "The Valley didn't make me a Vessel, Elena. They made me a King. And I think it's time we showed them what happens when the King decides to take his throne."
He walked to the window, looking out over the Jiangcheng skyline. Elena followed him, and her breath caught.
In the distance, atop the highest skyscraper in the city—the Vane Tower—a massive golden banner had been unfurled. It bore the symbol of the Saffron Sun.
"They're calling for a summit," Alexander said, his golden eyes reflecting the city lights. "All the medical sects, all the hidden families. They want to decide the fate of the Lin legacy."
He turned to Elena, a dark, possessive smile playing on his lips. "Tell Leo to prep the private jet. We're not going to hide in this hospital anymore. If the Valley wants a Trial, we'll give them one they'll never forget."
Elena looked at her husband—the "Cold CEO" who had become a Golden God—and realized that the 130,000-word journey they had embarked on had just shifted from a story of survival to a story of conquest.
"Alexander," she said, her own eyes flashing with the fire of her ancestors. "If we go to that summit, there's no turning back. You'll be declaring yourself an enemy of the most powerful secret society in the world."
Alexander pulled her into his arms, his touch a perfect harmony of frost and sun. "Then it's a good thing I have the world's best doctor by my side. Let's go, Elena. It's time to heal this world... or burn it down."