I didn't know how much time had passed since Dao.
Ji Qingyan felt a cold sensation slowly seep into her from between her brows, circulating through her meridians. The energy she had previously exhausted gradually replenished itself under the influence of this cold current.
Her consciousness slowly returned.
Wrong!
She suddenly opened her eyes, her pupils contracting sharply.
Instead of the blue-stone steps she was used to seeing, a hazy, luminous space stretched out before her.
Golden specks of light, like fireflies, drifted within it, enveloping her and Gu Jinfeng in a thin cocoon.
They sat cross-legged facing each other, their palms pressed tightly together, their posture so intimate that it seemed ambiguous.
A pale-blue cloud pattern appeared between their brows, blue light flowing through it as the two of them remained tightly connected.
The cool sensation she had felt before waking had actually come from the cloud pattern gradually formed between those two points.
“What’s going on...?”
Before she could finish speaking, dazzling golden light suddenly shone from the spiritual spring.
The ancient jade pendant whose whereabouts had long been unknown suddenly flew into the air, shattered into countless fragments of light, flowed into the depths of the spring, and vanished in an instant.
A moment later, the entire spiritual spring trembled violently.
The spring water churned and boiled, and a beam of golden light burst from its depths, shooting straight toward the dome of the sky.
The golden light spread in every direction like a spiderweb, forming a massive, intricate magic circle in the air.
Countless runes drifted down from the magical array, each carrying an indescribable ancient pressure that weighed heavily on the heart.
Ji Qingyan’s pupils trembled slightly.
Several words suddenly appeared in her mind for no apparent reason—Soul Contract.
Those four words seemed to have been directly embedded into her soul’s instinctive cognition by some kind of force.
The golden runes surged forth like a tidal wave, one after another disappearing into the space between her brows and Gu Jinfeng’s.
With every rune she absorbed, she could clearly feel the connection growing deeper—
This was not merely a physical connection, but a bond at the level of the soul, like two threads that had originally been separate, held in someone’s hand and gradually twisted together.
She heard her own heartbeat slowly synchronizing with another heart, and felt the flow of blood, the dormant strength, and the sleeping consciousness within the other body.
They could even vaguely sense the emotions remaining in Gu Jinfeng’s comatose state—the pain, endurance, and profound instinctive vigilance.
“This...” Ji Qingyan’s heart clenched.
The runes vanished faster and faster; the contract was absolute, like an ancient law itself, leaving no room for negotiation.
When the final rune disappeared into the space between their brows, Ji Qingyan’s mind exploded. A flood of information rushed in, too fast to examine carefully, yet each piece felt like scorching iron, branding itself deep into the depths of her soul.
The contents of the contract became crystal clear—
Fates intertwined, calamities shared, spiritual realms existing together, spiritual power cultivated together, Divine Souls connected.
As Ji Qingyan read each word, her heart pounded faster and faster.
When the final line of text appeared, she froze.
It could not be undone.
Betrayal was not permitted.
Do not cause harm.
Those three “could nots” were like three iron chains, binding the fates of the two people tightly together, leaving no room to break free from now on, from birth to death.
She slowly turned to look at Gu Jinfeng, who was still unconscious, his expression complicated and unreadable.
Were our fates compatible? Would we suffer through the same hardships?
It’s still bound tight; you can’t break free!
If she decided to commit murder or robbery—
A scene suddenly appeared in Ji Qingyan’s mind:
She infiltrated a criminal’s hideout, and just as she pressed a dagger to another man’s throat, Gu Jinfeng was suddenly stabbed, after which she herself began bleeding profusely. The two of them collapsed to the ground at the same time, a ridiculous scene straight out of a cheap movie.
Or perhaps she had just finished robbing someone and was fleeing when Gu Jinfeng was ambushed and seriously injured, dying on the spot before he could escape.
Or... if she wanted to act alone, the other party could sense her thoughts from hundreds of kilometers away, chase her down, and stop her, like catching a runaway child.
Wouldn’t that mean that from now on, the other person would know everything I was thinking, and I’d have to be extremely careful and restrain myself even when I was silently complaining?
Just thinking about it made Ji Qingyan feel dizzy.
“It’s all over.”
Her throat felt raw, filled with helplessness and despair, and her voice sounded resigned.
“This damn contract really tied us together. From now on, I won’t have any privacy around this person at all!”
She looked utterly desperate, having completely forgotten that she was still floating in midair.
But in the next moment—
A low, hoarse voice suddenly sounded in her mind.
The voice was calm, with a hint of weariness, like a lion stretching after just waking up. The end of the sentence rose slightly, carrying an indescribable, ambiguous charm:
“Murder and robbery? Stealing and running away?”
Ji Qingyan froze.
“Dr. Ji, so this is what’s always going on in your mind.”
Ji Qingyan’s pupils widened, and she abruptly turned to look at Gu Jinfeng.
The other man’s eyes remained closed. His face was as pale as paper, and his lips were dry and cracked. But at the corner of his mouth—
The faintest curve appeared.
It was not a muscle twitch, nor a subconscious reaction. It was laughter, unmistakably mocking laughter.
“You—” Ji Qingyan’s voice changed. “You’re awake?!”
“Awake.”
Gu Jinfeng’s voice came through the Dao Soul Link message, still calm. “Right when you were thinking about doing something like murder and robbery.”
Ji Qingyan: “............”
Her mind went blank.
So he had heard every mutter just now—about murder and robbery, about stealing and fleeing, about the binding contract that couldn’t be broken?
He hadn’t missed a single word?
Gu Jinfeng seemed to sense the violent turmoil of her emotions, a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and despair surging through their soul connection like a tidal wave.
The curve of his lips deepened slightly, and he slowly added:
“What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. It’s written in the contract.”
Ji Qingyan took a deep breath.
Another deep breath.
Try your best to control your facial expression.
Calm!
Calm!
So what if we’re bound by our souls? So what if someone else can hear my thoughts? So what if we can never be separated and will remain bound together for life?
—How the hell am I supposed to stay calm?!
She failed to notice that the curve of Gu Jinfeng’s lips had grown even more pronounced.
The light slowly faded, and the golden magic circle vanished without a trace, as though it had never existed.
Losing their footing, the two of them fell into the spiritual spring.
Splash—
Water sprayed everywhere.
Ji Qingyan was startled and choked on the water. The cold spring water filled her throat, and she instinctively thrashed with her arms and legs, looking like a cat tossed into a pool and utterly miserable.
The figure beside her moved slightly.
An arm emerged from the water, gripped her waist firmly, and with a slight pull, lifted her to the surface.
Ji Qingyan wiped the water from her face. Her wet hair clung to her forehead, and droplets trickled along her jawline.
She coughed twice and couldn’t help muttering, “What kind of place is this? Is this how they treat their master?”
Gu Jinfeng glanced at Dr. Ji, who was sitting beside him with mild annoyance, and a smile appeared in his eyes.
Without saying much, he lifted Dr. Ji into his arms and quickly climbed the stone steps.
“Hey... your injuries haven’t fully healed yet. Don’t move around too much!”
Ji Qingyan was startled when he suddenly picked her up. She instinctively grabbed Gu Jinfeng’s shoulder and shouted a warning.
“I’m fine.”
Gu Jinfeng spoke, his voice hoarse and deep, as if it had been sanded down.
The small movement aggravated his unhealed internal injuries, causing his brows to furrow slightly for a moment before returning to normal, as though nothing had happened.
He settled Ji Qingyan firmly on the stone step and leaned against the stone pillar beside it.
Looking at the wan young man in front of her, Ji Qingyan’s voice was hoarse and carried a hint of barely perceptible concern:
“Dr. Ji, you don’t look well.”
Ji Qingyan rolled her eyes and thought to herself, “You could make me feel better if you’d let me curse in my head for three minutes.”
“You can curse now.”
Gu Jinfeng’s smile deepened.
He found the other person’s frustrated expression rather amusing, completely disregarding the boundaries of mutual understanding and acting as casually as if he were sunbathing on his own balcony.
“Besides, I can hear you.”
Ji Qingyan: “...”
Damn it, not again!
Murder is a crime! Murder is a crime! Murder is a crime!
She repeated the sentence to herself three times, like reciting a spell, trying to vent her frustration this way.
Gu Jinfeng did not argue. Instead, he leaned against the stone pillar and narrowed his eyes slightly, as though examining the condition inside his body.
The pale-blue cloud pattern between his brows flickered faintly as he pondered, then settled down again.
A moment later, he opened his eyes.
He glanced at the bandage on his wrist.
Then his gaze turned to Ji Qingyan, growing more serious. “You used all your superpowers on me.”
It was not a question but a statement. His wording was simple, but every word carried weight.
“Thank you for your hard work!”
Ji Qingyan slowly walked to the spring, crouched down, scooped up a handful of spring water, and washed her face. The cold spring water splashed against her face, trying to clear her mind.
“That sudden surge of foreign energy inside you was too violent just now; it nearly tore apart every meridian in your body.”
She lowered her gaze, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the cool spring water. Her words were flat, but she could not suppress the lingering fear left by that terrifying experience.
“My Wood Attribute ability comes from the same source as the third energy inside your body, which is why I could barely stabilize it.”
“Thank you,” Gu Jinfeng said.
Ji Qingyan did not turn around, merely murmuring a quiet “Hmm.”
The reflections of the two figures appeared on the surface of the spring: one crouched beside it, the other leaning against the stone pillar. Neither spoke again.