Li Chen did not lower his guard.
Not even for a breath.
The moment the stabilizing formation settled around the crystal slab, he retreated two steps and sat cross-legged, positioning himself where he could see the woman clearly while also keeping multiple escape routes open. His fingers rested near several talismans hidden within his sleeves, and a thin thread of sword intent lay coiled deep within his dantian—silent, compressed, and ready to erupt if needed.
The woman noticed.
Her lips curved slightly, not in mockery, but in what seemed like genuine amusement.
"You're treating me like a wild beast," she said softly.
Li Chen nodded. "Wild beasts are honest. You're not."
She laughed quietly again, then winced as the movement tugged at her injury. A faint tremor ran through her body before she steadied her breathing once more.
Li Chen's gaze sharpened.
Internal spatial backlash, he judged. Meridians partially displaced. If she circulates qi carelessly, she'll tear herself apart.
"You can't move," Li Chen said. It was not a question.
She shook her head. "Not safely."
"And you can't heal yourself here," he continued.
Her eyes flickered. "…No."
Li Chen exhaled slowly.
"Then listen carefully," he said. "If you interrupt me, we both die."
She inclined her head. "I'm listening."
Li Chen retrieved three items from his storage ring: a Spatial Anchoring Talisman, a Spirit-Calming Powder, and a palm-sized formation disk etched with extremely fine lines.
"These aren't healing tools," Li Chen said as he worked. "They're restraints. For space."
He activated the formation disk first, placing it beneath the crystal slab. Light flared briefly, then vanished, locking the slab—and the woman—into a fixed spatial coordinate relative to the valley.
The pressure in the air eased.
The woman inhaled sharply, color returning faintly to her face. "You're stabilizing my position… not my body."
"Yes," Li Chen replied. "Your body can heal. Space doesn't forgive mistakes."
He crushed the Spirit-Calming Powder, letting it dissolve into a thin mist that settled around her. It would slow her qi circulation, preventing involuntary surges.
She frowned slightly. "This will delay my recovery."
"It will prevent your death," Li Chen said flatly.
She fell silent.
Only after everything was in place did Li Chen activate the Spatial Anchoring Talisman. Golden threads spread outward, weaving into the surrounding valley, tying the formation to the naturally unstable terrain.
The valley itself became her shield.
Li Chen finally leaned back slightly—but only slightly.
"Now," he said, "tell me why the realm is trying to erase you."
Her gaze turned distant.
"I entered a core region I shouldn't have," she said after a moment. "Something ancient noticed me."
Li Chen's scalp tingled.
Not a beast. Not a formation.
"An inheritance?" he asked carefully.
"More like… a remnant will," she replied. "It didn't choose me."
Li Chen grimaced.
Rejected inheritances were notoriously vindictive.
"And your sect?" he asked.
Her eyes returned to him. "If they could reach me, I wouldn't be here."
That answer told him everything he needed to know.
Silence followed, broken only by the hum of the formation and the distant distortion of space.
Li Chen remained alert, his senses stretched outward. Twice, he felt something brush the edge of the valley—an unseen pressure testing the boundaries—only to withdraw when it met the anchored instability.
Good.
Still, his nerves did not ease.
"Why didn't you try to kill me when you noticed me?" Li Chen asked suddenly.
She blinked. "Why would I?"
Li Chen looked her directly in the eyes. "Because I'm weak. Alone. And convenient."
Her expression softened—not seductively, but with faint sincerity.
"Because you looked at me and saw danger," she said. "Not beauty."
Li Chen said nothing.
"That told me you were either very smart," she continued, "or very afraid."
"…Both," Li Chen admitted.
She smiled gently.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
Gradually, the violent spatial fluctuations around her body began to settle. The worst danger had passed—but Li Chen did not relax. Recovery was often when accidents happened.
"Your name," she said suddenly. "You never told me."
Li Chen hesitated.
Names carried weight.
"Li Chen," he said finally.
She repeated it softly. "Li Chen…"
Then, after a pause, "I am—"
Li Chen raised a hand instantly. "Don't."
She stopped.
"Names create ties," Li Chen said seriously. "I don't want ties."
She studied him, then nodded slowly. "Very well."
Another unseen test passed.
As the jade sky darkened slightly, signaling the realm's strange cycle, Li Chen rose to his feet.
"You can move soon," he said. "When you do, we separate."
Her brows knit. "You're leaving?"
"Yes."
"And if the realm attacks again?"
Li Chen met her gaze calmly. "Then I run."
For the first time, she looked truly surprised.
Then she laughed—soft, unguarded.
"I think," she said, "you may be the strangest cultivator I've ever met."
Li Chen allowed himself a thin smile.
And you are still trouble, he thought.
But as he dismantled part of the formation in preparation to depart, he felt it again—that faint, dangerous sense of connection.
He didn't like it.
Not at all.
And yet, against all reason, he made sure the last formation would protect her long enough…
…for both of them to survive.Like it ? Add to library!