Chapter 71 · The One Who Returned
Elena was almost certain she had finally lost her mind.
When she finished cleansing the corruption within Cecilia, she truly believed the ordeal was over—
but the moment she lifted her hands, her knees buckled.
She collapsed.
Did I burn through everything…? Am I completely empty…?
And then—
YiChen caught her.
“Sorry, I— my legs just— I can’t stand— you—”
Her voice was barely a breath.
Heat swept across her cheeks so fast it hurt.
She wished the floor would swallow her whole.
She meant to tell him go on without me—
—but the words never made it out.
Because YiChen simply lifted her.
Effortlessly.
His arms were steady.
Warm.
Unshakably real.
He smelled of clean steel, Spirit Force, and quiet, devastating resolve.
Time stilled.
The battlefield—the smoke, the screams, the blood—
all blurred into distant haze.
All she could hear was—
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heartbeat.
Right beside her ear.
So loud she was certain the entire corridor could hear it.
Her ears burned.
So hot she nearly cried.
?
He Didn’t Ask
YiChen didn’t ask a single question.
He felt her trembling.
The ragged edge of her breathing.
The way her limbs shook from overuse—
and he understood everything.
Behind him, Shadowfang hovered in his flowing, star-mist form, carefully carrying the unconscious Cecilia.
He clicked his tongue—sharp, disdainful.
“Purified your toxins and you left her on the ground?
What sort of battlefield etiquette is that?”
In YiChen’s Consciousness Sea, Shixi curled nine fluffy tails around his Meridians, vibrating in bliss.
“Mmmmm… her aura is so soft and clean…
Let’s just take her home, okay?”
YiChen shifted his hold on Elena.
She was too light.
Too cold.
Too exhausted.
He placed two fingers gently on her wrist—
a warm pulse of golden Spirit Force, threaded with stardust, flowed into her veins.
“Mmn…”
Relief melted across her face.
Heat unfurled through her muscles like a rising spring.
Her breathing steadied.
Her body relaxed—
And without realizing it—
She leaned into his chest…
…and fell asleep.
?
The Return
When YiChen stepped into the main corridor—
Elena asleep in his arms—
the entire rescue unit froze.
Before he even reached them, a wave of pressure swept ahead of him,
Shadowfang’s aura leaking freely, starlight rippling across cracked tiles.
Logan and Xu Wei turned sharply—then stared.
“Captain—! You’re back!”
YiChen dipped his head in a calm, steady nod.
“Sorry I was late.”
His gaze swept the scene—
the torn armor, bleeding wounds, hollowed eyes.
“You all did well.”
Moments later, his squad thundered in from the stairwell.
Ryan skidded to a stop, panting—then broke into a wild grin.
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“I was ready to charge in—
but the boss cleared the whole building solo!”
Comm lines exploded with reports.
The hospital was secure.
Finally—
it was over.
?
Ground Floor
Several male trainees rushed forward to take Cecilia from Shadowfang’s arms.
Then they turned to YiChen—gesturing toward Elena.
“Captain, we can carry her—”
YiChen didn’t move.
He simply adjusted his hold on her—just slightly.
“It’s fine.
I’ll take her myself.”
The sentence detonated across the academy like a seismic event.
?
Aftershocks
Girls’ dormitories:
“How did she end up being carried by YiChen?”
“She’s totally pretending to be weak.”
“Manipulator.”
“Attention-seeker.”
But the hospital unit cut in instantly—voices fierce, unwavering:
“She saved Mike, Allen, Adam—everyone!”
“She cleared every Mist Barrier! She didn’t stop until she collapsed!”
“You don’t know anything. You’re just jealous.”
Rumors spread like wildfire.
So did the awe.
Before leaving, YiChen gave a final instruction to the infirmary staff—
quiet, even, almost too soft for a commander:
“Take good care of her.”
————-
Shixi’s tail swished in agitation—
not angry, not petulant—
but wounded.
His little voice wavered, soft and heartbreakingly small.
“YiChen?
We’re… not keeping her?”
Shadowfang floated beside YiChen’s shoulder, a slow vortex of star-mist gathering around his body like a storm testing its own patience.
His tone dipped low—velvet, dangerous.
“We should.
Leaving her here… this sovereign finds it distasteful.”
YiChen kept his voice steady.
“This is the academy. It’s safe.
And right now… isn’t the time.”
Shixi let out a tiny whimper.
All nine tails drooped at once—
like wilted feathers after rain.
Shadowfang chuckled—quiet, crystalline, and chilling.
“When the bite comes later…
do not beg this sovereign to intervene.”
YiChen: “…”
?
The night outside remained pitch-black—
a sky dragged down by sirens and mist.
Streetlights smeared into long golden ribbons across the windshield,
each one gliding over YiChen’s profile like flashes of distant memory.
He leaned back, rubbing the tension between his brows.
With his other hand, he thumbed open his phone.
A single unread message blinked—
“Brother, come home soon.”
Sent a month ago.
His lips curved—just barely.
A thaw.
A crack in the armor.
Winter cliffs touched by first spring.
The car stopped.
YiChen reached for the front door—
keys still cold in his pocket—
Click.
The lock released from inside.
A small figure stood barefoot in the doorway.
Hair a messy halo.
Eyes bright—twin stars in the dark.
And then—
“Brother—!”
ChengYu launched himself forward, slamming into YiChen with all the force his tiny body could gather.
He clung to YiChen’s waist, face pressed into the smoke-scorched uniform.
His shoulders shook—
hard.
YiChen’s hand hovered—
Then settled on the boy’s back, warm and steady.
The same touch that once lulled him to sleep on stormy nights.
He could feel it:
ChengYu trying so hard not to cry…
but failing.
Hot tears soaked straight through cloth.
“It’s okay now…” YiChen murmured, brushing his thumb on the boy’s head.
“Brother’s home.”
?
Breakfast
The scent of fried eggs and warm milk drifted gently through the kitchen.
YiChen skimmed over the night’s horrors—
the collapsed wards, breaking bones, black mist swallowing hallways.
“Just a troublesome mission,” he said, stirring his coffee.
“Shadowfang helped a lot.”
A ripple of black-gold mist coiled near his shoulder.
YiChen sighed.
“Want to say hi?”
Swoosh—
Shadowfang poked out half his dragon head—
—and the entire house froze.
His aura swept outward like a collapsing star.
Mark dropped his fork.
Zhang Han flinched so hard milk splashed across the table.
Even the fern on the windowsill trembled—though not a breeze stirred.
Breakfast ended early.
Shadowfang sniffed disdainfully.
“Mortals are so fragile.”
YiChen: “…Stop scaring them.”
Shadowfang: “This sovereign merely existed.”
?
Divine Fate
Later, as YiChen dried the dishes, ChengYu tugged on his sleeve.
Eyes bright, voice glowing.
“Brother! Our family has an Immortal!”
YiChen froze mid-wipe.
“…What?”
“From Mom’s side!”
ChengYu bounced on his toes, nearly lifting off.
“He came to the ancestor offering! They called him the Patriarch of Taiwei!”
Clatter—
The plate slipped into the sink.
YiChen turned—slowly.
“You… saw him?”
“Mm-hm!”
The boy nodded fiercely, then raised his palm.
A thin ribbon of starlit sword-energy curled upward—
delicate as a comet’s tail.
“He taught me the Starfall Sword Intent!
When I master it… can I fight monsters with you?”
?
The Answer
YiChen’s fingers trembled.
Almost imperceptibly.
Memories slammed into him—
Blackened corridors.
Screaming wards.
Mist Fiends ripping through ribs.
Cecilia breaking under the weight of a thousand prayers.
Elena collapsing in his arms.
Shadowfang tearing through concrete to reach him.
Death.
Fear.
Nightmares.
But his little brother—
stood here.
Bright.
Hopeful.
Untouched by cruelty.
A spark of a world he wanted to protect.
“…Okay.”
YiChen knelt—slow, gentle.
He cupped ChengYu’s cheeks with both hands.
His thumbs brushed the boy’s brows—
the same shape he saw every morning in the mirror.
Soft.
Familiar.
A promise shaped like touch.
As if, in this tiny moment,
he was holding
his entire world in his palms.
————
Carter’s coffee had long gone cold.
The ashtray beside him overflowed with crushed cigarette butts.
From the midnight phone call that yanked him out of bed
to the first pale streak of dawn bleeding across the skyline—
his nerves had been stretched so tight
it felt as if someone had strapped him to a runaway rollercoaster with no brakes.
First, the hospital fell.
Casualties: catastrophic.
Then—
a flicker of hope:
the vaccine was intact.
Before he could even breathe—
Another blow—
Fiends had surrounded the first four floors, ready to wipe out everyone inside.
The Saint charged in alone.
The remaining fighters retreated under forced orders.
And finally—
On the security feed—
a figure ripped through the fourth-floor wall,
riding a dragon made of liquid starlight,
Spirit Force blazing gold—
like a newborn sun rising from ruin.
YiChen had returned.
?
Conflicted Emotions
Carter exhaled a long, threadbare breath of smoke,
eyes locked on the frozen image—
YiChen carrying an unconscious medic through the wreckage.
He had to admit it.
The kid was terrifying.
City Hall’s finest Spirit Energy fighters had folded
the instant true disaster struck.
Even the Saint—
the Church’s immaculate symbol of hope—
had nearly been torn apart by the Mist Fiends.
But YiChen?
He carved through monsters
as if they were made of smoke.
Carter crushed out the last cigarette in the tray.
A hard glint cut across his eyes—
not fear, but something colder.
Power like that needed to be soothed.
And more importantly—
It needed to be controlled.
?
He pressed a button on the desk intercom.
“Notify Leo,” he said, voice rough.
“Emergency meeting. 0800 sharp.”
A pause.
Then, lower—measured. Deliberate.
“YiChen… must attend.”
