A bargain was struck, a terrible one. I would give half my body, my very essence, to his little sister in exchange for Lin Jian's life. It was a price I was willing to pay.
The shock of his awakening, the confusion in his eyes, mirrored my own turmoil. He knew something had changed, felt the shift in his own being, yet he couldn't understand. I pretended ignorance, burying the secret of my sacrifice deep within, my own body now weak and frail.
He noticed my condition, concerned he asked, "Fair lady, are you okay? You look pale."
I forced a smile at him," Why are you asking me, you're the one who's sick." ignoring the pain of ripping my own body in half.
"You don't need to pretend. You took care of me these days, let me take care of you." he announced.
He cared for me, kind touches , worried frowns , a silent concern that warmed me from within. I found myself stealing glances, admiring the strength he still possessed, the way his eyes held a depth I had never noticed before. It was a secret I couldn't confess, a longing I couldn't voice.
Tonight Lin Jian prepared a dinner for us, as we were eating , the chopsticks clattered to the table, the clatter echoing the sudden stillness that fell over us. Lin Jian's head bowed. His dark hair obscuring his face, now growing a strand of red. My hand instinctively reached for his, but he didn't respond. A cold feeling coiled in my stomach. His head bowed, lifeless.
Then, as if pulled by unseen strings, his head snapped up. His eyes—once warm and familiar—now glowed with a fevered red light, eerie and unnatural.
He stepped forward, voice strained, like something was pulling at him from the inside. "You don't understand…"
There was something off in his tone, something that didn't belong.
"Lin Jian, what's happening?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it shook. "Talk to me."
He suddenly stood, his chair scraping across the floor with a loud, jarring noise. His face—there was an anger there, but deeper, darker. Pain. Something wild behind his eyes.
"You don't get it, do you?" His voice cracked, low and harsh. "You're the only one who's ever seen me for what I am."
He reached for me, gripping my wrist with surprising force, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to make me feel the weight of it, to make me freeze.
"Lin Jian, let go." My breath hitched, trying to stay calm, but I could feel the tension in his hand, like he was struggling to control it.
"I can't… I don't know how to stop it," he muttered, his voice breaking again. "It's inside me—something inside, and it's pulling at me, pushing me toward you."
He suddenly shoved me back, not roughly, but with enough force to knock me off balance. I hit the wall behind me, catching my breath as I steadied myself.
"I'm losing control," he said, eyes wide and frantic. "I don't want to hurt you. Please…"
I couldn't move. I was stuck in place, torn between fear and something else—something that made my heart twist in my chest.
His eyes flickered—just for a second. A moment of clarity. And for a split second, I saw it. The raw desperation.
"Please," he whispered again, voice barely audible. "Help me."
Before I could respond, his legs gave out. He collapsed, his body shaking violently.
"Lin Jian!" I rushed toward him, panic flooding me as I tried to hold him up. But the fear clawed at me, because I wasn't sure if he'd ever be the same again.
I ran to him, catching him before he hit the floor. His entire body was wracked with tremors. His breath was ragged, his pulse erratic.
Zhang Li burst into the room, taking in the scene with wide eyes. "Move back," he said quickly, already kneeling at Lin Jian's side.
"What happened to him? You said he's healed?" I faced Zhang Li.
Zhang Li's hands holding a glowing sword. "A spirit," he declared, his voice filled with urgency, "has corrupted his soul." The revelation hit me like a physical blow. "A spirit," he repeated, his gaze locking onto me. Then, the truth unveiled itself, a cruel twist of fate. "You," he said, his voice low and steady, "are the one who is corrupting his soul."
"Me?" I breathed, my hands in where he lie, now shaking.
"He's dying, Yinuo," Zhang Lis voice was flat. The words was heavy and suffocating. "Your energy, its overwhelming him. Too much Yin, its poison to a mortal."
My heart pounded, a frantic drumbeat mirroring the terror that gripped me. Lin Jian, fading away? It couldn't be. "But what can I do?" I choked out, my voice cracking with despair.
He sighed, a weary sound that spoke of years spent battling against the inevitable. "This was bound to happen, Yinuo. Spirit natures...they're incompatible with humans. A year. He has a year left, and there's nothing I can do. The damage is done."
His words were a knifes, but as he spoke, a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes. "There is a way a chance. But its a desperate one." He brought out a worn, leather-bound book, its pages filled with strange symbols and script. "Within these pages, lies the knowledge to craft an artifact. A tool that could maybe, just maybe save him."
A year. A year to craft this life-saving artifact. The words echoed in my mind, a chilling countdown. I stared at the book, suddenly aware of a cold, sharp truth. This was my fate. I was trapped, just like the immortal in the mirror, condemned to watch my loved one die while I struggled against the impossible. It was cruel. Unfair.
But Lin Jian, his life, his smile, his laughter, it was all I had. Hope, flickering, yet refused to be extinguished. I would do anything, anything at all, to save him.
The book held secrets of rituals and sacrifices. My core, it demanded. My very essence, woven into the artifact. The thought of it was terrifying, the agonizing pain, but Lin Jian's fading breaths fueled my resolve.
He was dying, and I was crafting a lifeline, an artifact hope woven from my very soul. Each day, as the final hours ticked by, I felt myself getting closer, I went through pain and determination, a desperate prayer for a miracle.