The thread was vibrating violently.

Through the metaphysical connection, Wangchen received a massive, unfiltered surge of sensory data from miles away.

He felt a massive, catastrophic spike in Ji’an’s heart rate and the terrifying, hyper-dense surge of the Qi flooding her meridians.

He felt the raw, adrenaline-fueled fury of combat, the sensation of heavy iron striking bone, and the overwhelming, intoxicating thrill of absolute violence.

At that exact moment, deep in the subterranean fortress, Lin Ji’an was currently bringing her cast-iron spatula down on Blood-Hand Tu’s skull with the force of a falling meteor.

Wangchen lunged to his feet.

The Flawless Ice Qi erupted from his core, instantly coating the cavern walls in a fresh, jagged layer of lethal black ice. His dark eyes blazed with sudden, apocalyptic murder.

’He is fighting, could it be that he is in danger?’ Wangchen’s mind screamed, his hand flying to the hilt of Winter’s Sigh, which rested against the wall.

He took a step toward the sealed stone door, fully intending to shatter the three-foot-thick granite, abandon his seclusion, and cross the continent to freeze whoever was threatening his world.

He raised his hand, channeling a strike that would blow the door off the mountain.

But he stopped.

He closed his eyes, focusing intensely on the vibrations of the glowing blue thread on his wrist.

He felt the spike of adrenaline... but he didn’t feel fear.

He didn’t feel the erratic, failing pulse of someone who was dying, or the suffocating despair of a losing battle.

He felt a terrifying, arrogant, and utterly victorious dominance.

The pulse stabilised sooner than he expected.

The surge of Qi slowly receded, replaced by the steady, rhythmic heartbeat of someone who had just successfully taken out the trash and was currently surveying their handiwork.

She was safe.

In fact, based on the smugness radiating through the tether, she had likely just brutalised her opponent beyond recognition.

Wangchen slowly lowered his hand.

The black ice creeping across the cavern walls halted its advance.

He let out a long, ragged breath, his knees giving out as he sank back onto the freezing slab of Glacial Marrow.

He ran a trembling hand over his face, the realisation of his own helplessness crashing over him.

He was locked in a cave. And Lin Ji’an was out there, fighting, living, blazing like a sun in a world full of predators.

Wangchen looked at the faintly glowing thread on his wrist. It was a pathetic tether to the only thing that made him feel alive.

The loneliness of the cavern, which he had endured for decades without complaint, suddenly felt incredibly suffocating.

The air was too clean, and his surroundings were too quiet.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the freezing stone wall.

"Ji’an," Wangchen whispered into the dark, the name a desperate, broken prayer.

He wondered what she was doing right now. He wondered if she was cooking.

He wondered if she was laughing with that obnoxious, golden-haired idiot.

He wondered if she had thought of him even once since he had locked himself away.

He had only been in seclusion for a few weeks. It felt like centuries.

He was a monster born of ice, but right now, he was suffocating in the cold. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He longed, with a profound desperation that defied description, for his forest.

He longed for the messy kitchen, the smell of spices, the arrogant smirk, and the bright, silver-flecked eyes that made the world make sense.

He longed to breathe again.

But he couldn’t. Not yet.

He had to forge the chains and reach the pinnacle.

He had to ensure that when he finally broke out of this tomb, he would be strong enough to lock her in a cage far more beautiful and far more real than the one his demon had conjured.

Xie Wangchen crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees, and forced his blazing, lust-drunk heart to slow down.

He sank back into the meditation, embracing the agony of the wait, counting the beats of the glowing thread on his wrist in the dark.

***

Back in the Bandit’s Den.

The heavy, cloying scent of the aphrodisiac incense in Blood-Hand Tu’s master bedchamber was suddenly overwhelmed by the sharp, metallic tang of ozone and bruised pride.

Lin Ji’an stood over the unconscious, rapidly swelling form of the Golden Core bandit lord.

She lowered her Black Iron Spatula, her chest heaving as the adrenaline of the last ten minutes finally began to crest and recede.

She had just assaulted a man who could have flattened a mountain, and she had done it while wearing a muddy tunic and a chest binder.

She turned away from the bed, marching purposefully toward the obsidian pillar where her little brother was tethered.

Lin Xuan was still pressed flat against the stone, his silver-flecked eyes blown wide, two steady streams of bright red blood still dripping from his nose onto his torn silk collar.

The severe psychological trauma of witnessing his "brother" sensually straddle a grown man, whisper explicit promises, and then bludgeon said man into a coma was actively short-circuiting the thirteen-year-old’s aristocratic upbringing.

"Third Brother..." Xuan whimpered, his voice cracking violently. He squeezed his eyes shut as Ji’an approached, as if terrified she was going to perform another ’trick’.

’This brat...’ Ji’an was speechless.

"Not a word, Xuan. I mean it. If you tell Father about this, I will deny everything and claim you were hallucinating from the swamp gas," Ji’an threatened, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

She didn’t bother looking for a key.

She raised her heavy cast-iron spatula, channelling a concentrated burst of her hyper-dense Qi into the metal.

Then she brought the edge of the spatula down hard against the glowing, magical Qi-ropes binding Xuan’s wrists.

CRACK!!! Bang!!!

The magical tethers shattered like brittle glass, dissipating into harmless sparks of spiritual energy.

Xuan slumped forward, catching himself on his bruised hands and knees. He gasped for air, rubbing his raw wrists.