Not a beast.
Just… a man.
Tall. Lean. Devastatingly beautiful. His face was the perfect balance of sharpness and grace, and every step he took exuded that rare kind of poise of someone untouchable and undeniably attractive.
Behind him, the portal churned—slow, heavy, alive—but he remained untouched. The shadows didn't cling to him. They pulled back, like even darkness knew better than to come too close.
Yao Yao blinked rapidly, her thoughts scrambling to catch up. She was staring—wide-eyed, frozen, completely thrown off.
Her gaze drifted upward again, just to be sure.
Still there.
Still tall.
Still unreal.
That's my spirit?
Her mouth parted slightly.
No thoughts. Just awe.
She looked him over again, as if her brain needed a second chance to process what her eyes had just seen.
He was nothing like she imagined.
She had expected something majestic. Maybe powerful. Possibly even fluffy. Like a giant dog. Or a celestial dragon with wings big enough to block out the sky.
Not this.
Not a man who looked like he belonged on a temple mural, not walking out of a portal like some divine painting come to life.
His silver eyes gleamed with a distant light. Far... just like stars that are beautiful, unreachable, and not particularly interested in her existence.
His gaze swept slowly across the humans, looking mildly irritated, as if looking around was already a nuisance.
Then, his voice cut through the stillness coolly, and his tone was unmistakably displeased.
"Which irritating voice was that?"
Yao Yao froze.
Uh. That was her. Definitely her.
No one else moved. No one else spoke on her behalf.
She cleared her throat, small and uncertain.
Then slowly and very carefully, she raised her hand.
"Um… good morning," she said. "That would be… me?"
Her voice wobbled slightly at the end, but it was too late to take it back. Her hand remained half-raised, fingers twitching slightly.
The man, her supposed spirit, finally looked at her.
Really looked.
His eyes dropped, tracing the sound to its source. His expression didn't change, but something in the air did—a shift, maybe a dip in temperature.
His gaze moved slowly from her head to her shoes and back up again.
A faint crease formed between his brows.
"…You."
His words felt less like confirmation and more like disappointment.
She offered a nervous smile. "Um. Yes?"
He tilted his head slightly, as if the angle might help make sense of what he was seeing.
"You're tiny," he muttered. "Is that normal?"
A beat passed.
She blinked. "Excuse me?!"
His brows furrowed further as he looked confused.
"Strange. You sound taller."
Yao Yao stared at him, stunned. Was that… a compliment? An insult?
He leaned back slightly, still watching her like she was some odd object.
"You're barely half a chair tall," he muttered. "How does something that small make that much noise?"
The silence that followed hit harder than a slap.
Yao Yao stared at him, stunned. Her mind tried to process what she had just heard, but got stuck somewhere between chair and noise pollution.
"I'm not that small," she said after a second, her arms crossing defensively.
He blinked once. Slowly.
Then, with mild curiosity, asked, "Are your lungs defective?"
Is he seriously insulting my lungs right now?!
She choked. "They work fine!"
He considered her for another beat, then exhaled, like a slow release of patience.
"I'll say this once."
For a moment, he stayed silent, gazing at her with a slightly displeased expression. He stepped forward just a bit, and the air around him grew tense.
"If you… ever scream into my thoughts again…"
His eyes locked on hers, silver and cold.
"I will return."
His voice dropped, quieter than before.
"And you will regret it."
The entire arena fell silent.
Even the king didn't move.
The Spirit King cast one last indifferent glance at the crowd before turning away. His dark cloak billowed behind him like a moving shadow as he stepped towards the portal, seemingly finished with this realm and all who inhabited it.
No one uttered a word.
Off to the side, unnoticed by most, Rong Xi held his breath.
He stood perfectly still, his golden eyes narrowed to slits. Something inside him had cracked open, and now it burned, slow and quiet. His gaze locked onto the Spirit King, gleaming with fascination and wild calculation.
Meanwhile, Yao Yao remained completely unaware of her surroundings. She was far too busy panicking. Her stomach dropped the moment the man turned his back on her.
Wait. Wait, wait.
Wasn't he supposed to be her spirit? He showed up when she called him, didn't he?!
Then why the hell is he leaving?!
In front of everyone!
Her cheeks burned.
Not after everything! Not after the ridiculous chant and the full-blown public scandal.
She couldn't let him leave.
Her mind blanked.
While her body—
Her body moved forward on instinct.
Without hesitation, she leaped. Her small frame launched off the ground, her sleeves trailing like ribbons. She reached forward desperately, and just as he stepped into the portal, she caught the edge of his cloak.
"Wait!"
The instant she touched him, the world shifted.
Air bent. Magic surged.
Someone—perhaps Shang Jun—shouted her name, but the sound was muffled and distorted as the light warped.
Then everything gave way.
The portal pulled her in instantly. Pressure folded in around her, tight and relentless. Magic pressed down from every direction. It felt dense, endless, swallowing all sense of her direction.
The ground disappeared, leaving a void in its place.
For a moment, she floated.
Weightless.
It was a skyless, silent expanse filled with shimmering dark. But it wasn't all empty. Violet flecks shimmered like stars dusted across ink. Silver spirals drifted around her, brushing her skin. Wisps of indigo and lavender curled through the air like strands of threads flowing.
She could hear her steady and loud heartbeat as if it were the only sound left in the world.
Still, her fingers clung to his robe.
Then—
A sudden twist in the air—
Snap.
Yao Yao stumbled. Her feet hit the soft, slightly damp ground, and she lurched forward, nearly toppling into a patch of velvety grass.
She gasped.
The air was warm now, sweet and filled with the scent of flowers. Overhead, a vast glass dome arched toward the sky, tangled with vines and pale blossoms that grew towards the sun. Light streamed through, soft and golden, casting the garden in shades of green and gold.
It was beautiful. But it wasn't the palace she was in.
Her knees wobbled slightly.
Then she noticed—
Her fingers remained curled in the luxurious fabric, now slightly wrinkled under her grip.
She looked up.
The Spirit King stood before her.
Utterly still.
His silver eyes glowed faintly in the filtered light.
He looked down at her.
And she looked up at him.
Neither of them spoke.
Then—
"Let go," he said, voice low and mildly annoyed.
Yao Yao's grip tightened.
"…No."
His brow twitched.
He looked at her hand. Then at her face slowly, contemplating whether to burn the cloth away or toss her.
"Let. Go." he repeated.
Yao Yao cleared her throat. "Uh…"
She glanced at her fist.
Then back at him.
So maybe she had just hurled herself into another realm. Uninvited. Possibly violating several cosmic laws in the process.
But she wasn't letting go.
This was her spirit. Her one chance. She had called him, and he had answered.
Even if he was cold. Even if he was rude. Even if he thought her lungs were defective.
She wasn't going to let him leave without a contract, not like this.
Her fingers stayed clenched in his robe.
She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and forced a nervous smile.
"…So was that a yes or a no to my spirit contract?"
He stared at her.
Expression unreadable.
Eyes faintly glowing.
And for one long, breathless second, it genuinely looked like he was trying to decide…
Whether to answer—
Or erase her from existence.