Chapter 292 - 293 - Burn it out
Yunfeng rubbed his face roughly as he walked back to his room, his shoulders weighed down by more than just exhaustion. Every step felt heavier, every breath tighter. The plan was already in motion now. Zei would freeze the front line, Lu Zhi would sneak into the outer camp, Yunfeng himself had planted the makeshift bomb in the kitchen. All the dominoes were lined up—but one of them was too unstable to control.
Shao.
Yunfeng’s jaw clenched as he collapsed onto his bed, lying stiff under the sheets. The ceiling blurred above him, and he didn’t know if it was his strained eyesight or the sheen of anxious tears threatening to break through. Of all the people to be caught in the direct line of fire, it had to be Shao. The one who was least in control of himself right now.
They couldn’t reach him. Not without compromising everything. And even if they could somehow open that barricaded door and send someone in... would Shao even listen? Would he even recognize danger at this point?
The man was lost in a rut. He was volatile. He was vulnerable. All he could think about—Yunfeng was sure of it—was Jai. Jai, who was now in heat. It was like lighting a match and throwing it into a forest already soaked in gasoline.
Yunfeng groaned softly and buried his face into the pillow. He squeezed it tightly between his arms like he could suffocate the frustration and helplessness boiling in his chest. This wasn’t just about protecting their camp anymore. This was a chain reaction waiting to erupt. If Shao and Jai ended up together like this, both overwhelmed by biological impulses and blinded by desire, it wouldn’t just be reckless. It would be catastrophic.
Neither of them could think straight. They wouldn’t notice soldiers approaching, or alarms being tripped. They wouldn’t care about hiding. They’d be loud, distracted, defenseless.
And in this state, if someone stormed the house—Yunfeng’s breath caught.
He couldn’t let that happen. But his options were dwindling by the second.
He turned on his side and slipped one arm out from under the covers. His palm trembled as he stared at it. He tried, again, to summon the flames—his old reliable power. He could feel the heat now, at least. It was crawling slowly through his bloodstream like syrup, coiling in his gut, heating the tips of his fingers.
But no fire came.
Nothing broke through his skin. Nothing sparked, no matter how much he focused.