44: Chapter 44 The Stool is Too Hard

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun's lips were pressed tightly together; this was her final line of defense, an ice wall she had spent four years building.

Outside the ice wall lay indifference, haughtiness, and the stubborn retort of "Who would want to marry you?"

Inside the ice wall was the memory of the first time her Frost Spell went out of control and nearly froze half the camp, when he grabbed her hand and said, "Don't be afraid, I'm fine."

It was the second their fingers lingered when he handed her the spiritual water after the Beast Tide ended.

It was the moment on the battlefield today when she saw him sent flying by the Giant Horned Rhino King, the sharp pain in her chest as if pierced by an ice pick.

That wasn't fear; it was something more primitive and uncontrollable than fear, something called "caring."

"I…" Frost Mage Lin Shiyun began, her voice so hoarse it didn't sound like her own.

She bit her lip.

The Frost Mage's lips were pale pink, like a rose petal covered in frost under the moonlight; at this moment, she bit down harder, almost drawing blood.

"I…"

She closed her eyes.

A touch of moisture clung to her long, silvery-white eyelashes, sparkling like a tiny diamond in the moonlight.

Then, she blushed and nodded.

The movement was small, so small it was almost imperceptible.

But Wang Sheng saw it, like seeing the first flower bloom in a sky full of ice and snow, like waiting for the first ray of dawn in an endless cold night.

He didn't speak; he simply reached out, not to take her hand, but to gently tuck a stray lock of her long, silvery-white hair behind her ear.

When his fingertips brushed against her earlobe, the Frost Mage shuddered slightly. Her earlobe was ice-cold, like a tiny pearl soaked in moonlight, but the moment his fingertips touched it, the temperature climbed rapidly, turning so red it seemed to be burning.

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun suddenly stepped back. "You…!"

"Get some good rest, Shiyun." Wang Sheng withdrew his hand, the curve of his lips impossibly gentle. "You still have to freeze more Savage Beasts tomorrow."

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun glared at him, her ice-blue pupils flashing with cold light, but that cold light no longer held any real lethality; it was like sunlight reflecting off an ice surface, carrying warmth within the chill.

"Who wants to freeze Savage Beasts! That's a Frost Spell, not freezing Savage Beasts! Do you think I'm freezing dumplings!"

She turned and left, walking at a rapid pace, her long, silvery-white hair drifting like snow in the moonlight, the hem of her mage robes fluttering loudly with her stride.

She stopped at the tent flap. She didn't look back.

"…Your hands are indeed quite cold."

The voice was as quiet as a mosquito's hum. Then, she lifted the tent flap, and her silvery-white figure vanished into the night.

The tent flap closed again, and the moonlight spilled in through the gap once more. Wang Sheng lay alone in the Chiefs Tent, watching the Savage Beast core on the tent ceiling emit a soft, faint glow.

His right fingertips still retained the temperature of Frost Mage Lin Shiyun's earlobe—a temperature that was ice-cold, yet melted into a drop of warmth at his fingertips. He curled his lips into a smile.

Then he heard footsteps outside the tent, very light, very familiar, carrying a rhythm like moonlight. "Xuner?"

The tent flap was gently lifted, and Shen Xun'er stood outside. Her moon-white ceremonial robes looked like silver armor in the moonlight, her long, raven-black hair cascading down to her waist, and her moist, almond-shaped eyes were like a pair of speaking moons in the silvery-blue radiance.

Her lips were curved like two crescent moons; there was no jealousy or testing in that smile, only a gentleness and composure unique to a primary wife, like moonlight embracing all things.

"I just saw Shiyun come out of your tent." Her tone was as flat as if she were talking about the weather. "She was walking very fast, and her face was very red."

Wang Sheng: "…You've been outside the whole time?"

Shen Xun'er didn't answer the question directly, but instead lifted the tent flap and walked in. She was holding a steaming bowl of spiritual medicinal soup; it was a healing potion formulated by Hua Jieyu, emitting a scent that was bitter yet sweet.

"Hua Jieyu says your ribs need one more dose of spiritual medicine to fully heal." She sat on the edge of the bed and brought the medicinal bowl to Wang Sheng's lips, her movements as natural as breathing, without any need for thought or hesitation. "Open your mouth."

Wang Sheng drank a mouthful of the spiritual medicinal soup from her hands, so bitter that his eyebrows knitted together. But Hua Jieyu's spiritual medicine was indeed effective; a wave of heat spread from his throat to his chest, and the dull pain in his ribs quickly faded in the warmth.

"Xuner," Wang Sheng said after finishing the spiritual medicinal soup, looking seriously into her eyes. "You just…" "Just what?" "You just said you weren't jealous."

Shen Xun'er's almond-shaped eyes curved, a hint of playfulness flashing in the crescent-like arc. "I said, 'I'm not an unreasonable person.'" She corrected him, her tone carrying a touch of the seriousness typical of a class monitor. "I never said I wasn't jealous."

She lowered her head and placed the medicinal bowl on the small table by the bed, her raven-black hair cascading down like a waterfall, shimmering with a soft luster in the moonlight. She wore moon-white ceremonial robes, the fabric as light and thin as gauze, clinging to her slender yet curvaceous figure—slender as a willow where it should be, and plump as a peach where it should be. In the silvery-blue radiance of the moonlight, she looked like a white jade statue soaked in moonlight, every curve exuding a beauty that made it impossible to look away.

"However," she raised her head, moonlight swirling in her almond-shaped eyes, "I knew Shiyun earlier than you. The day we entered our freshman year, I was the one who picked her up. She stood downstairs at the dormitory dragging her suitcase, ignoring everyone, as cold as a block of ice. I helped her carry her luggage to the sixth floor, and she didn't even say thank you."

Shen Xun'er's voice was as soft as the wind, the memory making her almond-shaped eyes gentle and profound. "Later, I realized she wasn't ungrateful; she just didn't know how to express it. She was raised from childhood to believe that 'showing weakness is losing,' and to her, emotions are weaknesses, things that need to be frozen."

Shen Xun'er paused, her lips curving. "But ice, as long as it encounters a warm enough temperature, will always melt."

Wang Sheng looked at Shen Xun'er's profile; moonlight flowed in her moist, almond-shaped eyes like a pair of tiny lakes lit by the moon. She turned her head and met his gaze.

"So, it's not that I'm not jealous." Her voice was very soft, so soft that only the two of them could hear. "I just… feel more sorry for her."

Outside the tent, the sound of the Lingxi River was like a whisper of the night, and the silvery-blue radiance of the Moonlight Blessing flowed slowly outside the tent flap, like a quiet river.

Shen Xun'er stood up, the hem of her moon-white ceremonial robes swaying gently. She walked to the tent flap and looked back. "Get some good rest; there's still a lot to do tomorrow."

Her almond-shaped eyes curved, the crescent-like arc filled with gentleness, and then her gaze fell on the low stool beside Wang Sheng's right hand, which still retained Frost Mage Lin Shiyun's body heat. "That stool is too hard," she said. "Tomorrow, have Rune Forgemaster Xu Mohan make a more comfortable chair."

The tent flap fell, and the silvery-blue light gradually faded into the distance through the gap. The night grew deep.

Wang Sheng closed his eyes; the constitution of a Holy Light Warrior was accelerating the healing of his remaining internal injuries. The cracks in his ribs had completely healed, and the finger bones of his right hand had recovered seven or eight percent; he should be able to move normally tomorrow.

Before his consciousness sank into darkness, the last two images he thought of were: one was the profile of Shen Xun'er standing by the tent flap saying, "I feel more sorry for her," with moonlight flowing in her almond-shaped eyes like two stars lit by gentleness. The other was the moment Frost Mage Lin Shiyun blushed and nodded, a movement so small it was almost invisible, but that ice wall she had spent four years building had finally cracked.

Ice turning to water. It was only a matter of time.

On the other side of the camp, Frost Mage Lin Shiyun had returned to her own tent. She lifted the tent flap, walked in, and sat on her bed. The Frost Mage's tent was always a few degrees colder than outside, and silvery-white ice crystals condensed into frost flowers on the tent walls, like icicles on a winter windowpane.

She looked down at her hand, the hand that had held Wang Sheng's for ten hours. His temperature still lingered in her palm.

Frost Mage Lin Shiyun slowly pressed that hand to her chest, her ice-cold fingers feeling her heart beating much faster than usual inside her chest.

"Idiot." She muttered softly, her long, silvery-white hair falling to cover half her face, but it couldn't hide the crimson flush spreading from her ear roots to her neck.

Outside the tent, the silvery-blue radiance of the Moonlight Blessing flowed slowly, like a pair of gentle hands, lightly brushing over every tent and every person.

The Lingxi River shimmered with light like broken silver in the night, and the sound of the river was like a lullaby, gently embracing the entire camp into the arms of the night.

This was a post-battle night. Wounds were healing, ice was melting, and something was quietly, irreversibly growing before the dawn arrived.