Yao Yuxuan simply nodded in response to Liu Haoyu's thanks, finishing the last bite of his lotus blossom-shaped sugar figurine. His fingers lingered on the wooden stick for a moment before brushing off the remnants of sugar that had clung to his skin. As the sweetness dissolved on his tongue, Yao Yuxuan found his thoughts drifting, helplessly pulled toward the undertow of buried memories—loneliness, pain, and longing all resurfaced with brutal clarity. They gnawed at the edges of his consciousness like relentless waves battering the shore.
He took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the shaded alley fill his lungs, trying to ground himself in the present moment. "I'm getting pretty tired," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We don't have to find the strings today."
Liu Haoyu, standing with his arms loosely crossed, shook his head firmly. "Nonsense."
Yao Yuxuan was about to protest when he felt something unexpected—his hands were suddenly enveloped by Liu Haoyu's larger, warmer ones. The shock of the contact sent a jolt through his body, an electric sensation that seemed to crackle between their palms. For a fleeting second, fear gripped Yao Yuxuan's heart. Was Liu Haoyu cursing him again? Was this another cruel trick? But almost as quickly as the fear came, it dissipated. This wasn't a curse.
A different kind of energy flowed between them, foreign yet oddly soothing. Yao Yuxuan could feel Liu Haoyu's spiritual power seeping into his body, mixing with his own in a way that was both exhilarating and unfamiliar. If his own spiritual power was like warm water that gently pooled in his chest, then Liu Haoyu's was the icy rush of freshly melted snow—a cold, refreshing torrent that sent shivers from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. The sensation was overwhelming, a chill that seemed to penetrate his bones, and yet... there was an intimacy in the exchange that Yao Yuxuan couldn't quite place. More than anything, it felt like a connection, as though something deeper than words was passing between them.
He blinked in surprise, distracted momentarily from the cold by a newfound awareness—his physical strength was returning, if only marginally. Muscles that had felt weak and fatigued all day seemed to stir with renewed vitality. His breaths came easier, and the ache in his limbs softened.
"I've tried healing your physical ailments multiple times," Liu Haoyu began, his voice calm yet thoughtful. "But your internal spiritual injuries always erode the progress. It's almost like your body rejects any external assistance." His silver brows furrowed slightly. "But this should be enough for you to walk on your own, at least until we get back to the inn."
The dragon prince released Yao Yuxuan's hands and stood gracefully, extending one of them in an offer of assistance. Without hesitation, Yao Yuxuan took it, his fingers closing around Liu Haoyu's firm grip. He braced himself as he was pulled to his feet, expecting the familiar spike of excruciating pain that had haunted him for days—but to his surprise, only a dull ache remained, a far more tolerable discomfort.
Releasing Liu Haoyu's hand, Yao Yuxuan took a few cautious steps, testing his newly restored strength. A surge of emotion swelled in his chest, threatening to spill over. For days, he had resigned himself to the helplessness of being a cripple, barely able to move without agony. And now, though it was only a temporary reprieve, the fact that he could walk again felt almost miraculous. He swallowed hard, pushing down the emotions that threatened to rise to the surface.
"Come on, let's go," Liu Haoyu said, his voice carrying a note of urgency as he nodded in the direction of their destination. His relaxed expression darkened slightly, and there was a glint of danger in his eyes. "But don't try to run away, Yao Yuxuan. You won't last long before my power runs out. And if you betray the trust I'm giving you by letting you walk, I won't hesitate to break your legs so thoroughly that you won't even dream of moving again."
A cold shiver ran down Yao Yuxuan's spine, and his stomach twisted into knots. Despite his outwardly calm expression, fear gripped him tightly, its claws sinking deep. He forced himself to maintain composure, and with a haughty sigh meant to save face, he replied, "I don't intend to return your good deed with ill will, don't worry."
Liu Haoyu chuckled softly, though there was nothing warm about the sound—it was cold, calculating. He turned on his heel and began walking, his strides measured and confident. Yao Yuxuan followed a few steps behind, keeping a careful distance between them. Though Liu Haoyu allowed him this small space, his domineering presence loomed large, his aura radiating authority. It was clear from the set of his shoulders and the sharpness of his gaze that he would not let Yao Yuxuan out of his sight for even a second.
They arrived at the instrument shop, a humble yet well-kept establishment nestled between larger, more imposing buildings. As they entered, the soothing scent of polished wood and freshly carved instruments filled Yao Yuxuan's senses. The shop was a musician's paradise, with flutes, zithers, pipas, and other instruments displayed elegantly along the walls, each one meticulously crafted. Strings and accessories were laid out neatly on small tables, and the soft sound of a blade scraping wood echoed through the quiet space.
An older man sat at a workbench in the back, his graying black hair tied in a low knot as he focused on carving a large slab of wood. He didn't look up as they entered, absorbed in his craft, but his presence filled the room with a peaceful, almost meditative energy.
Liu Haoyu leaned casually against the entrance, his gaze drifting toward the street outside. He watched as the last of the day's light faded, the streets emptying as evening settled over the town. His eyes flicked briefly toward Yao Yuxuan, who had already made his way deeper into the shop, his hands hovering over the various instruments like a man reconnecting with an old friend.
For Yao Yuxuan, the sight of the instruments stirred something deep within him. The feel of the strings beneath his fingers, the scent of polished wood—they were more than just objects. They were memories, lifelines to a past that now seemed so distant. His heart felt lighter as he wandered among the instruments, his mind recalling the days when music had been a refuge for him.
His thoughts drifted to his eldest adoptive sister, Yao Xinyue, who had taught him how to play the guqin when he was a child at the Red Begonia. She was a serious woman, talented beyond measure in both music and dance, but she rarely spoke. She had been a strict teacher, often harsh when he made mistakes, pushing him to perfect his craft. At the time, Yao Yuxuan had resented her for it, frustrated by her sternness. But now, standing among the instruments, he understood the value of her discipline. Her teachings had shaped him, molded him into the musician he was today.
A sad smile tugged at his lips. 'I hope you're doing well, Xinyue,' he thought to himself. The bitter truth was that he was in the same town as his old adoptive family, only a cart-ride away, and yet... he couldn't visit them. The injustice of it stung, and remembering Liu Haoyu's earlier threats, he shivered slightly, brushing the thoughts aside. Someday, he promised himself. Someday, he would return to them.
After ten minutes of browsing, Yao Yuxuan found what he was looking for. A box of high-quality strings caught his eye, and he picked it up, bringing it over to the shopkeeper. The old man barely glanced up from his work, his knife still moving with practiced precision.
Yao Yuxuan glanced toward the entrance, meeting Liu Haoyu's gaze. He beckoned the dragon prince over with a wave, silently asking him to pay for the purchase. To his dismay, Liu Haoyu raised an eyebrow and shrugged, feigning ignorance.
"Liu Haoyu," Yao Yuxuan called softly, mindful of the serene atmosphere. "Please?"
There was a subtle shift in Liu Haoyu's expression when Yao Yuxuan said his name—something almost imperceptible, but there. Without another word, the dragon prince walked over, pulling a white pouch from inside his robe. He counted out more than enough coins and placed them on the counter.
"Thank you for your business," the shopkeeper muttered, still not looking up from his carving.
The two left the shop in silence, walking side by side as the sky darkened. An awkward tension hung between them, thick and palpable. Yao Yuxuan glanced up at Liu Haoyu from the corner of his eye, studying his sharp, angular features. The fading light cast deep shadows across the dragon prince's face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the high arc of his cheekbones. He was undeniably handsome, but something was off. The crease between his brows had deepened, and a small bead of sweat had formed at his temple.
Something was troubling him.
Yao Yuxuan couldn't help but wonder what it was. Hadn't Liu Haoyu just been teasing him moments ago?