Mystique Soul: A Cultivator's Flame
Chapter 125: Wavering Heart

Chapter 125: Wavering Heart

Feng Jiao Xue too Mo Tianze to the inn and

shut the door with her foot as she stepped inside the inn’s room, cradling Mo Tianze tightly against her chest. The lantern light cast a warm glow across the wooden floor, illuminating the mess of papers, medicines, and towels she’d gathered in a rush.

She hesitated taking him to the space to help him heal there but she doesn’t know how his chaotic qi would react to a Spatial transfer.

He hadn’t stirred since collapsing or when she carried placed him on Yin Xiao. Said deer worriedly nuzzling Mo Tianze’s cheek, lying beside the bed.

She laid him gently on the futon, kneeling beside him as she pulled the blanket over his trembling form. His skin was clammy, drenched with sweat. Though his wounds had stopped bleeding, his breathing remained shallow, and a faint sheen of cold sweat continued to bead on his brow.

"Stupid" she whispered, brushing damp strands of silver-white hair from his forehead. "Why did you push yourself like this..."

In the back of her mind, doubts already took root about who Mo Tianze really is but the worry she held for the fox she kept by her side shadowed over the concern.

Mo Tianze’s face looked younger when he slept, gentler, almost boyish. But now, even in unconsciousness, his brow remained furrowed, as if he were in pain. His tail, usually flicking lazily or curled warmly around himself, lay limp at his side.

She touched his pulse.

Erratic. Too fast.

She extended her senses into his core, brushing past his defenses and winced.

His qi was in chaos. Swirling inside him like a storm.

It surged in wild currents, lashing against the confines of his dantian like a beast caged in too small a space. Flames of uncontrolled energy licked across his meridians, causing micro-tears, too small to kill him immediately, but enough to eat away at his strength with each passing moment.

He was burning out.

"No visible injuries, no broken bones," she murmured aloud, "but inside... you’re tearing yourself apart."

Feng Jiao Xue stood quickly, taking out a small box from inside her space ring and flipping it open. Inside were jade vials, glass bottles, crushed herbs wrapped in thin cloths. Her hands moved deftly, mixing a blend to calm the qi, something to regulate the flow and stop the internal spiraling.

"Hold on," she muttered, pouring the mixture into a small bowl and kneeling back at his side.

She lifted his head and pressed the rim of the bowl to his lips. At first, he didn’t respond.

"Mo Tianze," she said softly, voice firm. "Drink. You have to drink this."

His brow twitched. Then, slowly, as if hearing her from far away, he drank. His throat moved, just barely. She sighed, relief trembling through her limbs as she coaxed the rest of the potion down.

The worst of the heat began to fade, but she could still feel it, deep inside him, the energy that had spiraled out of control still burned faintly.

And beneath it... was something else.

A seed of rage.

It had fused with his qi during the frenzy. Whatever they had done to him, whatever horrors he had been forced to endure in that half-decorated room, it had left its mark. Not just in wounds or trauma, but something more insidious. A part of him had cracked open. Something primal had been let loose.

But for some reason... she can’t associate the devil she faced with the soft fix she had grown to care about.

She reached out, placing her palm lightly on his chest.

A pulse of golden light flickered under her hand, reacting to her touch. His qi roared for a moment, then quieted, soothed only by her presence, as if even in this state, he knows who she is, he instinctively know.... her.

"...Tianze...." she murmured, lips tightening. "You stubborn fool. You hold on... Im here now."

Her voice wavered.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I should’ve come sooner. Should’ve been there."

Feng Jiao Xue stroke his head, slightly drenched from his own sweat. The room was warm, but she felt cold.

"I keep promising myself I won’t care this much. That I won’t get attached. That I’ll just finish what I have to and move on."

Her gaze dropped to him again.

"But when I see you in danger, I forget everything else."

She leaned closer, resting her forehead lightly against his. "I’m sorry. I did this. I shouldn’t have sent you away"

"You’re not allowed to die, Tianze.... I need you."

She stayed like that for a long moment, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the faint hum of qi still flickering beneath the surface. Then she pulled away, brushing his cheek one more time.

Feng Jiao Xue took some damped cloth and wipe the dirt from Mo Tianze’s body.

A quiet knock sounded at the door.

Feng Jiao Xue stood, whip poised to strike in a flash, until a familiar voice whispered from the other side.

"It’s me," Chen Rong said softly. "And Lin Feng. May we come in?"

She hesitated, then opened the door a crack.

Lin Feng’s eyes went immediately to the unconscious figure behind her. "How is he?"

"Alive," she said. "Barely."

Feng Jiao Xue looked behind them. "How about Wei Jian and Xie Lian?" She asked not seeing the two.

"Wei Jian is fine. Still unconscious but recovering. His wounds have been healed and so have Xie Lian." Chen Rong informed her. "She says hi by the way. One of us needed to stay with Wei Jian so she couldn’t come."

Feng Jiao Xue nodded at that before looking back at Mo Tianze, using

Chen Rong’s jaw tightened. "We brought more healing items. We didnt know how hurt he would have been so we took as much of everything as we could."

"Thank you" Feng Jiao Xue replied. "I just need to stabilize him. I just need time." She doesn’t want to leave Mo Tianze in the hands of others.

They exchanged glances, but said nothing.

Lin Feng set down the supplies quietly. "We’ll keep watch outside."

"Thank you but no need. I know your worried about Wei Jian too. I got Mo Tianze, go make sure his alright." Feng Jiao Xue assured them.

Chen Rong hesitated before nodding. "Okay, just... come to the guild if you need anything. The cultivators are currently being held there for their recuperation."

Feng Jiao Xue nodded before she returned to Mo Tianze’s side and dipped a cloth in cool water, wiping the sweat from his brow. His ears twitched slightly under her touch.

She smiled faintly. "You’re still fighting. Good."

But deep inside, a storm was building.

She had seen the blood. She had seen the fear in the eyes of the dead.

Mo Tianze hadn’t just fought back, he had been forced into something far worse. But... for some reason... she can’t bring himself to fear him, to be wary of him.

Just like that, the sun slowly set. The day coming to an end and Feng Jiao Xue couldn’t bring herself to leave his side. Even in his sleep, his hand clung to hers.

Feng Jiao Xue sat cross-legged beside Mo Tianze, her sleeve rolled up as she replaced the cloth on his forehead. The old one was too warm, soaked in sweat and lingering qi heat.

His body was burning again. Throughout the day, fever would break out from the unregulated qi inside his body.

She’d regulated the wild qi within him, dulled the flare long enough for him to sleep, but it hadn’t left him at ease. Now his body fought the aftermath, clinging to consciousness as if he were still in battle.

He stirred again, and her hand instinctively found his.

"Shh," she whispered, squeezing gently. "You’re safe now."

His eyes fluttered open, golden and glassy, his gaze unfocused.

"... sister?" He asked weakly, softly. His voice hoarse and low.

She froze.

"I’m here," she said, her voice barely audible.

His hand curled around hers like a reflex, hot skin trembling slightly. "It’s dark... Where are you...?"

"Shhh. Its alright, Im right here" she murmured, dipping another cloth into the cool water, wringing it out. "You’re with me."

"I thought..." he mumbled. "I thought they took you too..."

Her chest tightened.

"No. I came for you," she said, brushing the damp cloth gently along his jaw. "You waited, didn’t you? You knew I would."

His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. His breathing was uneven, fever making his thoughts drift like mist.

Then, suddenly, a soft whisper escaped him, barely a sound.

"...Yeah... sister is here..." Mo Tianze relaxed. "I like sister’s scent. It smells like home"

She blinked.

"What...?"

He smiled faintly, fever-drunk, eyes glazed but warm. "Like moonlight... and snow... it’s always so cold around you, but... when you touch me, I feel warm. I like sister very much. Sister, is it okay for me to love you?"

Her breath caught.

The cloth slipped from her fingers, landing with a dull splash in the bowl.

She didn’t know what to say. Her heart beat once, hard, and she looked away as though the warmth rising in her cheeks was something she could hide in the shadows.

He didn’t know what he was saying. He was sick, delirious, half-lost in memories and sensations. But somehow... his words felt too real. Too close to what she refused to let herself believe.

"Your delirious. Im not warm" she muttered under her breath, cheeks still burning. ’I’m not someone that’s easy to love...’

But then his grip tightened slightly on her hand.

"Even if you act cold... I know," he whispered, eyes slipping closed again. "You always... save me..."

Feng Jiao Xue exhaled slowly. Her hand remained in his.

"Sleep," she said gently, brushing her fingers through his silver-white hair. "You’re safe now. I won’t leave."

A moment passed. Then another.

His breathing evened out again.

Still, she didn’t move. Her hand remained curled in his, his warmth grounding her in the storm of her own thoughts

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