Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 30: His Only Chance

"That still doesn’t answer my question." Ningyan cleared his throat.

Meishan’s lips quirked slightly. "Let’s just say I have my ways."

Ningyan gave him a flat look. "I don’t agree with that. I want answers."

"Focus on what matters," Meishan raised a hand.

A flicker of dark emerald light shot forward from his fingers and sank into Ningyan’s abdomen, directly into his beast core.

For a split second, Ningyan felt as if his soul had been ripped out of his body.

Then it slammed back in.

Pain exploded through him.

It burned through his veins, scorching from the inside out, as if his body were being set aflame.

"Ack!" A sharp cry tore from his throat. His flute slipped from his fingers and fell into the grass. He clutched his stomach, vision blurring with tears.

"No... fuck, it hurts!" he screamed.

Meishan stood before him, unmoving.

What he saw made his breath slow.

Ningyan’s eyes were glowing.

The soft violet had shifted. Burning into a pure, white gold blazing fire.

Meishan’s expression remained impassive. The dark green energy flowing steadily from his fingers. The power was stable. Controlled. There was no flicker.

But in his eyes, there was pity.

He did not stop.

Stopping now would be fatal.

Ningyan screamed.

Again and again.

But not once did he beg.

No matter how unbearable the pain became, he never asked Meishan to stop. This was his only chance.

He gritted his teeth, fists clenched so tightly that his nails tore into his palms. Blood trickled down his fingers.

Still, he endured.

Hours passed.

The sun sank beyond the horizon, night settling over the hidden garden.

Ningyan’s voice grew hoarse. His throat burned raw. Yet he never fell silent.

They never moved from their positions.

Meishan did not look exhausted. Not even a little.

How long is this going to take?

Ningyan tried to ask out loud, but the words never left his mouth. They existed only in his thoughts.

He regretted not asking earlier.

His vision began to blur. The air felt thin..m too thin.

His chest tightened as dizziness washed over him, the world tilting sharply.

Then he was falling. But he didn’t feel the impact.

Darkness took him instantly.

Meishan watched as Ningyan finally lost consciousness.

He didn’t withdraw his hand.

Moving carefully, he lowered Ningyan onto his back while maintaining the steady flow of core strength.

He adjusted his posture with precision, placing him into a proper meditation position even as Ningyan’s head lolled forward.

Meishan sat down in front of him.

This time, he raised his second hand, extending four fingers just like the first. Dark emerald energy flowed from both hands as he closed his eyes and took a slow, measured breath.

He could not lose focus.

This was going to take a very long time.

♡ ♡ ♡

"Find him!"

Yan Wuhen’s roar thundered through the manor.

Guards scattered in all directions, scrambling to obey as his nine tails lashed violently behind him, moving out of sync with one another. His breathing was uneven. Dangerous.

The spirit mate chain coiled tightly around his wrist.

He could feel the pull.

But that was the problem.

The pull was everywhere.

It was as if Ningyan existed across the entire academy at once and the sensation screamed that something was terribly wrong.

A surge of red-gold divine light exploded from Wuhen’s body, cracking the ground beneath his feet. The pressure was suffocating.

Then the chain vanished.

Wuhen’s lips curled into a cold, ruthless smile.

In the next instant, he was moving.

He arrived before the White Tiger Clan’s divine prince manor in a blur of motion. The guards at the entrance exchanged uneasy glances as the enraged Vermillion Fox prince strode toward them, murderous intent rolling off him in waves.

"Y-your Highness," they bowed hurriedly.

Wuhen ignored them.

"Rong Chen," he demanded. "Where is Rong Chen?"

The doors opened.

Rong Yue stepped out, his expression sharpening instantly as he took in Wuhen’s state.

"What do you think you’re doing?" he snapped. "Entering my manor with such murderous aura, Yan Wuhen?"

Wuhen’s eyes locked onto him.

"What do you mean?" he said calmly, far too calmly. "I am the embodiment of peace. I am merely making a peaceful inquiry."

Rong Yue didn’t relax for a second. His gaze tracked every movement Wuhen made.

"Rong Chen has been sent back to the clan for temporary seclusion," Rong Yue replied evenly. "If you’re here to assign blame, he had nothing to do with this."

"Is that so?" Yan Wuhen leaned back, looking like he might explode at any moment.

Rong Yue’s gaze dropped briefly to the spirit mate chain coiled around Wuhen’s wrist. It was stretched thin, engulfed in white gold violent flames.

"How about you come inside and have a drink with me," Rong Yue said lightly. "Just like old times."

Wuhen turned away. "I have something far more important to do than drink with you, Rong Yue."

As Wuhen took a step forward, a blur of motion cut him off.

In the next second, Rong Yue was standing directly in front of him.

"Is this about your pet?" Rong Yue asked calmly. "Did something happen to him?"

Wuhen’s glare was murderous.

Rong Yue nodded slowly. "So it is about him. I can help you find him but only if you calm down before you start a massacre."

The oppressive pressure around Wuhen flared violently. Then receded.

Not gone. Just restrained.

Rong Yue exhaled, relieved, and turned. "Come."

He led Wuhen toward the inner chambers, closing the door behind them and gesturing toward the table. Wuhen didn’t move.

"So how are we going to find him?" he demanded coldly.

Rong Yue sighed. "Always with the violence."

Then he flicked his gaze toward the door.

Rong Chao froze mid-step, caught red-handed.

"Oh.. um... I was just passing by," Rong Chao said with a nervous laugh, already turning to flee.

Rong Yue grabbed him by the back of his robe and yanked him into the chamber.