Chapter 324: Noise
"Alas, the Flawless Ice Root is notoriously temperamental. It seems the ambient Yang energy of the room, specifically the heat generated by your Yin energies... is causing my core to react defensively. I fear the temperature will only continue to drop."
He tilted his head, his ruby eyes locking onto Mei with a dark, polite threat.
"It would be a tragedy if the esteemed Senior Sister were to suffer permanent frostbite to her meridians on the eve of the tournament. The medical pavilion is already so crowded."
The threat was veiled, but it was absolute.
Leave, or I will freeze your internal organs and claim it was an accident.
Elder Su, being a Vice-Sovereign and possessing significantly more survival instinct than the others, recognized a losing battle when she saw one.
She looked at the powerful, silver-haired boy standing guard over the cook, and she looked at the rapidly spreading black ice.
"I... I believe we have taken up enough of the Chief Architect’s time," Elder Su stammered, frantically brushing the frost off her crimson robes. She shot one last, longing, deeply regretful look at Ji’an. "Rest well, Martial Uncle Lin. We shall... cheer for you in the Arena."
"Thank you, Elder Su! Drive safe! Watch out for black ice on the stairs!" Ji’an called out cheerfully, waving them off, secretly vibrating with relief.
Senior Sister Mei begrudgingly abandoned the divan, her teeth chattering so hard it sounded like castanets.
"We will... we will speak again, Ji’an," Mei shivered, pulling her thin lilac robes tightly around herself as she hurried to join Elder Su.
The contingent of glamorous, terrifying senior women beat a hasty, highly undignified retreat out of the Grand Astrolabe Chamber, fleeing the freezing room as if they were escaping a blizzard.
The heavy brass doors slammed shut behind them.
The moment the doors closed, the freezing aura suffocating the room instantly vanished.
The temperature snapped back to a comfortable, warm baseline.
The frost melted.
The junior array masters across the room collectively gasped, finally able to breathe again, though they wisely chose to keep their heads down and pretend they had seen absolutely nothing.
Ji’an slumped back against the divan, letting out an echoing groan of exhaustion, throwing her arms wide open.
"Wangchen, you lifesaver," Ji’an breathed, looking up at the ceiling. "I owe you my life, my spatial ring, and my firstborn spatula. Another five minutes with them, and I was about to dive out the window."
Wangchen did not immediately reply.
He stood perfectly still in front of the divan.
He slowly lowered the silk-wrapped bento box onto the jade table, right next to the puddle of frozen Yang-tonic.
His back was facing the rest of the busy array room, ensuring no one else could see his expression.
Ji’an looked up at him.
The flawless, polite, fake smile he had worn for the senior women had completely crumbled.
His head was bowed slightly, his silver hair shielding his face.
His hands were gripping the edge of the jade table so tightly the stone was groaning under the pressure.
The knuckles were bone-white.
His chest was heaving with rapid breaths, betraying the emotional agony he was currently suppressing.
The jealousy hadn’t vanished when the women left.
The realization that others wanted Ji’an, the realization that others felt entitled to touch, to corner, to offer gifts... it was like a corrosive poison in his mind.
And the fact that he had been forced to stand there, bowing politely, unable to rip them away from her because of some arbitrary sect rule... it made him feel pathetically weak.
"Wangchen?" Ji’an asked softly, her comedic relief evaporating instantly, replaced by a look of deep concern.
She sat up, leaning toward him.
Wangchen slowly lifted his head.
His ruby eyes were burning.
They weren’t cold.
They weren’t the emotionless voids of the Ice Demon.
They were vulnerable, and shining with an intense possessiveness that broke Ji’an’s heart.
He closed his eyes, a tremor wracking his powerful frame.
"I am but a disciple," he murmured bitterly, the self-loathing evident in his tone. "I have conquered the Flawless Ice. I hold the power to shatter mountains. Yet, I am bound by the chains of hierarchy. I could not protect you from their hands without bringing the wrath of the sect down upon you. I had to smile while they invaded your space. It... it tore my soul to pieces, Brother Ji’an."
Ji’an stared at him.
She wasn’t looking at the most powerful prodigy in the sect.
She wasn’t looking at a terrifying yandere protagonist.
She was looking at the boy who had sat alone in a freezing courtyard for his entire life.
A boy who had finally found the one single source of warmth in his miserable existence, only to be forced to watch others try to steal it while his hands were tied behind his back.
He wasn’t angry at the women.
He was furious at his own helplessness.
Ji’an didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t overthink the boundaries.
She stood up from the divan, stepped into his personal space, closing the distance between them.
She reached up, her calloused hands gently but firmly gripping the lapels of his pristine white robes.
Wangchen’s ruby eyes snapped open, widening in surprise at the sudden contact.
"Listen to me, you dramatic, silver-haired idiot," Ji’an said softly, but her voice carried an unwavering, fierce conviction.
She looked directly into his eyes, refusing to let him look away.
"You did protect me, little fool. Didn’t you freeze the room and make them leave? And you did it without starting a political civil war that would have gotten us both disqualified from the tournament. Why brood so much like an old man?"
She gave his lapels a gentle, affectionate shake.
"But more importantly, Wangchen," Ji’an whispered, her silver-flecked eyes softening into a look of tenderness. "They don’t matter to me. The martial aunts, the princesses, the merchants... they are all just some background noise that I can’t avoid. After all, socializing is important too."
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