Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 41: Music Heals (2)

"Here." Lan Meishan handed Ningyan a pill.

Ningyan was seated at the edge of the pool, his bare legs idly stirring the water. He wore only his trousers; his hair was drenched, his scarred skin slick with moisture. His flute rested loosely in his other hand.

He studied the round pill for a moment before popping it into his mouth.

Lan Meishan sat beside him, his robe draped loosely over his shoulders, his chest partially exposed. He glanced at Ningyan from the corner of his eye.

The phoenix was... strange.

Nice. Purposeful. Strong too judging by the scars etched into his body.

Lan Meishan had looked into Su Ningyan’s past. He knew how little he had been valued in his own home. How easily Yan Wuhen had been able to take him away.

He felt an urge to reach out. To touch Ningyan’s damp hair, to ruffle it, to say you’ll be fine.

Instead, he curled his fingers into the fabric of his trousers.

Ningyan suddenly looked at him. "How did you know I was coming?"

"You always come by noon," Lan Meishan replied, gently kicking the water.

"...Ah. Of course you’d notice," Ningyan said with a small smile.

Lan Meishan found him even more endearing.

The short wet hair clinging to his face. That jade-toned skin.

The soft roundness of his features, plump pink lips, wide violet eyes.

He could see why Yan Wuhen had bound him with the spirit mate chain.

"Can I?" Lan Meishan asked, gesturing toward Ningyan’s abdomen.

Ningyan nodded, his face flushing pink as it always did. Lan Meishan was certain Ningyan didn’t even realize it.

Gently, he pressed his hand against Ningyan’s abdomen, sensing the core beneath.

It was stronger. Stable.

Lan Meishan’s lips curved faintly.

"I think your recovery is complete," he said, withdrawing his hand. "You can begin leveling up now."

"Really?" Ningyan lit up. "I thought you said it would take a month."

"I did," Lan Meishan admitted. "But you heal faster than expected. Your core is holding. Just enough."

Ningyan groaned, throwing his head back. "Finally."

"...Yes," Lan Meishan said quietly. "But it also means we won’t be seeing each other like this anymore."

He didn’t bother hiding the disappointment in his voice.

Ningyan paused, then looked at him softly.

"Yeah... but I can still come here," he said. "For books. And I can play my music for you too. We can still be good friends."

Lan Meishan nodded. "That’s alright with me."

His gaze drifted to the flute resting at Ningyan’s side.

"I think," he added after a moment, "you should play for yourself more."

"Huh?" Ningyan asked, confused.

"My clan," Lan Meishan explained. "We specialize in healing rather than combat. Our cultivation comes from restoration, which is why we are rarely harmed even during battle. That is what sets us apart from other beast clans."

He paused, then added quietly, "You seem to connect more to music. You should use that."

Ningyan looked even more bewildered. "How do I use music?"

Lan Meishan let out a soft chuckle.

Ningyan smiled in return because Meishan’s laughter was rare, and somehow... calming.

"Music heals, Ningyan," Meishan said. "And I think the reason you’ve been struggling to reach the second stage, even when you try during recovery sessions, isn’t only because we weren’t finished."

He hesitated, then continued, keeping his voice gentle. "It’s because you’re scared."

Ningyan froze. "I’m not scared," he said quickly. "Why would I be? I want to be strong."

"But I told you," Meishan replied calmly, "that even now, your core is still prone to shattering."

"I’m not scared." Ningyan’s expression hardened as he picked up his flute and stood.

Lan Meishan looked up at him, wary.

Ningyan’s frown made him uneasy. He looked like he wanted to leave and while Meishan usually preferred solitude, he didn’t want to be alone now.

"...Forgive me if I spoke out of turn," he said softly.

"No." Ningyan groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Don’t apologize. You’re right."

He exhaled sharply.

"I am scared. Of course I am. I want to be strong, yes, but look at you all. You great divine beasts are overpowered. Even the weaker beasts could crush me between their fingers." His voice dropped. "All my hard work could vanish if someone targets my core. I could lose everything. Lose myself. Get a bad ending."

Lan Meishan listened in silence.

Then he said, "You just have to become strong enough to prevent anyone from shattering your core."

He met Ningyan’s eyes. "Strong in mind, body, and soul."

Ningyan snorted and sat back down beside him. "You say that like it’s easy."

"I know," Meishan admitted. "It’s easier said than done. But you’ve already come this far. I believe you can do it."

Ningyan blinked, then smiled faintly. "Thank you. That... really means a lot."

Lan Meishan’s gaze dropped to his lips, only for a second, before he quickly looked away and stood up, adjusting his crooked glasses.

"...Are you attending the Dance of Dragons Festival tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," Ningyan replied.

Lan Meishan looked surprised. "You’re really going?" 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"Yes. As Wuhen’s lover."

Meishan hummed thoughtfully. "It’s dangerous. But I’m sure he’ll protect you."

"Lucky me," Ningyan chuckled, standing and grabbing his robe.

"Are you being sarcastic?" Lan Meishan asked.

Ningyan paused while fastening his robes and looked at him, smiling bright and unapologetically happy.

"Yes."

"Oh." Lan Meishan smiled.

They soon left the room. Before they parted, Lan Meishan handed Ningyan a cup of calming tea.

To prevent you from catching a cold, he had said. Then created a glowing portal beneath Ningyan’s feet, sending him back outside the imperial library.

Silence returned.

Lan Meishan remained in his sleeping chamber, organizing scrolls, ancient texts, and bundles of medicinal herbs meant as gifts for the dragons. By the time he finished, darkness had already settled beyond the windows.

He bathed, changed into fresh robes, and carefully cleaned the lenses of his spectacles with a soft cloth before putting them back on. He studied his reflection in the mirror.

A distinguished great divine beast prince.

A scholar.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and pressed a hand to his forehead, mimicking the gesture Ningyan had shown him earlier.

"One. Two. Three."

He breathed in. And out.

Again. And again.

Just as his heartbeat began to steady, a familiar pressure washed over the room.

Lan Meishan turned sharply from the mirror.

His father stood there.

Their eyes were the same shape, though his father’s were a lighter shade with a cold, displeased expression on his face. His dark hair and black robes only sharpened the oppressive aura he carried.

"Are you ready, Meishan?"

Lan Meishan straightened, smoothing his expression into practiced calm. "Yes, Father."