Chapter 85: Trouble
He could feel the flow of Yin energy pouring into him, not violently, but in a rhythmic harmony. It was gentle, potent, and beautifully rich. It danced through his meridians like a song, soothing the frayed edges of his spiritual core. The battle had weakened him terribly, but what he now absorbed from Lira was not only helping him recover, it was restoring him in ways even potions could not.
Lira’s hands clutched softly at his back, her nails dragging lightly along his skin. There was no fear, no hesitation, just trust. She had given herself to him completely, and in doing so, she’d offered him more than just her body. Her Qi resonated with his own, syncing like two celestial forces recognizing each other.
Lucas closed his eyes and allowed the energy to circulate within. He held back from pushing further. He had considered using the soul-binding technique, something that had created a powerful link between him and Henrietta, but he knew Lira wasn’t ready. Her foundation, though rapidly growing, still needed stability. To rush that process could hurt her, and that was something he would never allow.
Instead, he focused on anchoring the Yin essence within him, channeling it carefully, reinforcing his damaged Dantian and strained meridians. His body burned with revitalization. Muscles tightened. Veins glowed faintly under his skin. And beneath all that... his soul felt a little less fractured.
Lira looked up at him with dazed eyes, her lips parting slightly, a flush still spread across her cheeks. There was awe in her expression, not just for what had happened between them, but for what she felt from him now. A strength, power and connection, a warmth she hadn’t known she craved until now.
"You’re healing," she whispered.
Lucas smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "Thanks to you."
Afterwards, the room fell into a gentle silence. Lucas leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Lira’s damp forehead. Her skin was warm, her breath still catching in shallow waves, but her eyes sparkled with quiet contentment.
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he moved to the edge of the bed and crossed his legs beneath him. His body was sore, his Qi strained to the limit, but the cultivation path had no time for rest. He drew a slow breath and closed his eyes.
With practiced control, he guided the residual Yin energy through his weakened meridians. It was like threading fire through cracked glass. Each cycle brought with it both pain and healing, small ruptures sealing, ruptured veins knitting together, and warmth slowly gathering in the pit of his Dantian.