15: Chapter 15 The Method of Yin-Yang Harmony

Inside the ice-blue light barrier, the pink Demon Flame origin had become much quieter. It no longer crashed around wildly like it did when its intelligence was just stripped away, but the energy fluctuations it emitted were still terrifying—a Five-Star Dou Sheng peak exotic fire origin. Even without conscious awareness, the immense power it contained was enough to burn any Dou Sheng who rashly approached it into ashes.

This silence was more like gathering strength, like a spring being constantly compressed, waiting for the moment to unleash all its pent-up power in a backlash against the person who dared to touch it.

Yao Yao stood on the periphery of the light barrier. Her re-bandaged arm still throbbed with pain, but she dared not rest. She held her bone whip at an angle ready to strike at any moment, her peach-blossom eyes fixed unblinkingly on the figure sitting cross-legged inside the barrier—Hun Feng had begun refining, and the only thing she could do was ensure no accidents disturbed him.

This refinement took half a month.

During this half month, there was no day or night in the Demon Flame Space. She relied on counting her heartbeats to keep track of time. She kept the bone whip in her hand, pinched herself when sleepy, and swallowed two fasting pills from her storage ring when hungry. Her eyes never left the light barrier for more than three breaths at a time. The Young Master's aura had been stable for ten days, which made her think for a while that the refining would go smoothly. With the Young Master's God-Grade Bloodline, the Void Devouring Flame Sub-flame, and the Hun Clan's secret techniques, refining a Five-Star Dou Sheng peak exotic fire that had lost its intelligence theoretically shouldn't carry too much risk.

But on the eleventh day, a muffled thud suddenly came from inside the light barrier. Yao Yao stood up abruptly. She saw Hun Feng's body twitch violently, his brows furrowed tightly, and his teeth clenched so hard they creaked. The meridians under his skin bulged in visible ridges, as if something was rampaging through his blood vessels. His face alternated between blue and red; sweat seeped from his pores only to be steamed into white mist by his scorching body heat, then frozen into fine ice crystals by the next wave of cold, falling onto his shoulders with a rustle. This was a precursor to energy loss of control.

"Young Master!" Yao Yao cried out sharply. Ignoring whether she would be backlashed if she approached rashly, she flashed to the edge of the light barrier. The bone whip lashed out with a snap—not because she wanted to attack, but because she was so nervous that her fingers tightened instinctively.

"Don't come over!" Hun Feng squeezed three words through his teeth, his voice so hoarse it sounded like it had been roasted by fire and then chilled by ice. The Dou Qi throughout his body was swaying wildly on the verge of losing control—the Demon Flame origin had begun to backlash. He had underestimated the energy of the Purification Lotus Demon Flame after all. In the original story, Xiao Yan relied on the assistance of Xun'er's Golden Emperor Sky Burning Flame when refining the Demon Flame, using one exotic fire to control another, and using the power of the same source to channel the energy. Although he had the Sea Heart Flame and the Void Devouring Flame Sub-flame, the Sea Heart Flame was only ranked fifteenth, and the Void Devouring Flame Sub-flame was not the main body. Facing the third-ranked Purification Lotus Demon Flame, it was like two small rivers trying to divert the torrent of the ocean. More crucially, he had miscalculated another vital factor from the original story.

Xun'er.

In the original story, the reason Xiao Yan could get through the most difficult part of refining the Demon Flame was not because the Golden Emperor Sky Burning Flame was so strong—the Golden Emperor Sky Burning Flame was ranked fourth, only one place lower than the Purification Lotus Demon Flame; going head-to-head might not have yielded any advantage. The real reason was that at the critical moment when Xiao Yan's meridians were about to be burst by the Demon Flame, Xun'er used the Yin-Yang cultivation they shared, using her body as a conduit, and in the most intimate way, guided the violent power of the Demon Flame onto the right track little by little. That was not simple Dou Qi channeling; it was a dual harmonization of body and soul. Without this step, even if Xiao Yan had ten lives, he could not have refined the Purification Lotus Demon Flame.

Hun Feng had complained in his heart when he read this part of the plot—the original author really thought of any trick to give Xun'er more scenes. But now that it was his turn to take the field, he realized this wasn't just adding scenes; it was genuinely life-threatening. The Demon Flame origin's power, which was terrifyingly immense, was charging left and right in his meridians. The Sea Heart Flame and the Void Devouring Flame Sub-flame were desperately devouring and converting it, but the speed of conversion could not keep up with the speed of the energy expansion. If this continued, in at most another stick of incense, he would explode like an over-inflated balloon, and not even his soul would be saved.

Using one's body as a conduit. These four words were written lightly in the original text, but now they weighed on him like Mount Five Fingers.

He opened his eyes with difficulty and looked at Yao Yao outside the light barrier through a vision blurred by sweat. She was standing at the position closest to him, her knuckles white from gripping the bone whip, the anxiety in her peach-blossom eyes undisguised, and bloodstains from the bandaging a few days ago still remained on her skirt. Her lips were moving—she was asking him what was wrong and what she should do.

A thought flashed through Hun Feng's mind.

That thought made him hesitate. He really hesitated. He had lived for over twenty years before transmigrating, and the education he received on Earth was to respect women and not take advantage of people. This woman in front of him had willingly followed him for nearly twenty years, blocking knives and taking beatings for him; since she was five, he was the only thing in her life. He knew this affection clearly, but precisely because he knew it, he was even less willing to use her in this way.

But if he didn't say anything, he would really die. If he died, what would happen to the Hun Clan? What about his mother—what about Yao Yao?

"Yao Yao." His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible. Yet Yao Yao heard it clearly. She took another step forward, stepping into the edge of the light barrier. The icy blue cold cut her skirt hem, but she didn't notice.

"Young Master, you say," she asked, "What should I do?"

Hun Feng hesitated for a few more breaths. In these few breaths, the Demon Flame energy expanded another circle in his meridians, and fine cracks had already appeared in his chest meridians; any further would be irreversible damage. He gritted his teeth and threw all the high-sounding reasons in his head aside—forget being embarrassed, forget taking advantage of someone, screw it all. He just didn't want to die, he just needed her, and he just couldn't accept blowing himself up into fireworks in this flame.

He raised his head and, in a tone that was as normal as possible but with the corners of his mouth already starting to stiffen, he explained what needed to be done in a way that was as euphemistic as it was clumsy.

Then he saw Yao Yao's face. From her neck to her ear roots, it turned completely red at a visible speed. It was as red as if it had been roasted by the Demon Flame, so red that even behind her ears and her collarbone were tinged with pink, so red that those typically shrewd and lively peach-blossom eyes were wide open.

"You, you, you—Young Master, you—"

"I really can't hold on," Hun Feng gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his jaw, "If you are not willing—"

Before he finished, he shut his mouth. Because Yao Yao lowered her head and began to untie her sash.

The action of the black dress's sash loosening at her fingertips was very light, so light there was almost no sound. But the silver bells on her ankles betrayed her—they were trembling uncontrollably, jingling, as if someone had disrupted their rhythm. The long dress slipped from her shoulders and piled up at her ankles, followed by the inner lining. She stood in the pink halo reflected by the Demon Flame, her fair skin stained with a faint warmth. Her long black hair spilled down over her smooth shoulders and back, her slender neck slightly bent, her exquisite collarbone rising and falling due to rapid breathing, and her slender waist casting a soft arc in the pink halo. Her fingers were unconsciously clenched, her knuckles slightly white, her whole body trembling slightly, and her face was already so red it could bleed. But she didn't cover herself, nor did she retreat.

"The Young Master has never asked for help since he was small," Yao Yao's voice was very soft, so soft it was like talking to herself, but her tone carried a certainty only she possessed, "If you can say it, it must be a life-or-death matter." She looked at Hun Feng with those misty peach-blossom eyes, trying to force a smile as usual, but it broke halfway, "A life-or-death favor, no matter what it is, I will help. When has Yao Yao not helped you?"

The pink flames inside the light barrier were still surging silently, casting both their shadows on the stone wall, first separated, then slowly overlapping.

Hun Feng was not a saint. He was the Young Master of the Hun Clan, an ordinary person who transmigrated from the twenty-first century, with seven emotions and six desires, capable of falling in love and being impulsive. This woman in front of him grew according to his aesthetic from head to toe, and having spent twenty years together day and night, saying he had no thoughts would be lying. But what truly hit him hard in his heart at this moment was not her body, not that face that could topple nations, but that she was blushing and trembling at the time she should be least shy, yet still untied her sash without hesitation. She didn't even ask, "Are you sure?"

He reached out his hand. Yao Yao closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling like petals in the wind, but the moment Hun Feng touched her, she instinctively leaned forward—that was the trust cultivated over twenty years, trust carved into her bones; she even forgot that people should be nervous or reserved at such a moment.

Then both of them let out a repressed groan at the same time. The energy of the Demon Flame origin accumulated inside, unable to be vented, found a new circulation path the moment this physical connection was established, and began to flow back and forth within their bodies. Each circulation transformed that violent pink flame into gentle Dou Qi that could be absorbed. Yin-Yang harmonization was not an empty phrase—the oldest law of the Fighting Qi Continent displayed the most primitive and effective way of salvation at this moment. And in this purely private space that belonged only to the two of them, she suddenly had a thought she had never had before—it was not a little maid serving the Young Master, but a woman being needed by the person she had loved her whole life. This thought made her so shy she wanted to hide herself, yet she was more willing than ever.

This clearing process lasted a long time. Longer than expected. About three days. Not ordinary days, but three days of repeatedly jumping on the edge of life and death every moment. The pink fire energy accumulated in Hun Feng's body far exceeded expectations; every impact felt like it would burst both of their meridians together, while Yao Yao's blood-attribute Dou Qi was like an extremely thin but extremely tough thread, leading those runaway energies back to the right path one strand at a time. She didn't have the Golden Emperor Sky Burning Flame, but she had blood-attribute Dou Qi that was of the same origin as Hun Feng's, and more importantly, she had twenty years of unwavering trust, which was more reliable than any Heaven-tier cultivation technique.

On the evening of the third day, when the last strand of violent pink fire was tamed into a docile stream and flowed into Hun Feng's Dantian, both of them collapsed onto the stone platform. The ground of the Demon Flame Space was hard and hot, but he didn't even want to move to turn over. Yao Yao leaned against his side, her long black hair scattered on his shoulders, the flush on her face not yet faded, her breathing shallow and rapid, too tired to speak. Her fingers were still loosely resting on the back of his hand, not deliberately holding, but not wanting to pull away.

Hun Feng closed his eyes, feeling the earth-shattering changes in his body. The Demon Flame origin had completely merged into his meridians, rivaling the Sea Heart Flame while complementing it. Deep blue and pink flames slowly rotated in his Dantian, continuously refined and fused by the power of the God-Grade Bloodline. And his cultivation base was pushed to a height that even he found alarming during this refining—breaking through from the peak of Three-Star, shattering the Four-Star barrier, breaking through the mid-stage and late-stage of Four-Star, then breaking through Five-Star, finally stopping at the threshold of the early stage of Six-Star Dou Sheng. A full jump of nearly three major ranks. Yao Yao also received a huge feedback, breaking through from the peak of Three-Star to the late stage of Five-Star Dou Sheng in one fell swoop. She turned over and sat up to look at her hands, her peach-blossom eyes still filled with a bit of confusion.

"Young Master, I seem to be... Five-Star."

"Mm."

"And you?"

"Six-Star."

Yao Yao was silent for two seconds, then burst out laughing. The laughter was hoarse and tired, but it had an indescribable sense of relief: "Do you think we hit the jackpot?"

Hun Feng did not answer. He propped himself up with his arms and glanced at Yao Yao. She was sitting on the edge of the stone platform, her long hair that she hadn't had time to tidy up scattered behind her shoulders, her profile against the pink halo soft to the point of being unreal. He suddenly remembered a sentence he saw while slacking off in the office in his previous life—there are some people you have known your whole life, but only in a certain moment do you realize that you have actually never seen them. The Yao Yao he knew before was his maid, his guard, his childhood sweetheart. But now what he saw was the woman who dared to rush in without even thinking about her life when his body was about to shatter into pieces.

"Yao Yao." His voice was very low.

"Mm?" Yao Yao turned her head to look at him, her peach-blossom eyes still red from the exhaustion.

Hun Feng reached out, tucked a strand of hair that was stuck to her cheek by sweat behind her ear, his fingertips sliding over her earlobe, his touch neither light nor heavy. Yao Yao froze, and her face began to turn red again.

"When we go back," he said, "Change how you address me."

Yao Yao's eyelashes trembled twice, and the mist in her peach-blossom eyes silently welled up. She pursed her lips without speaking, but the finger resting on the back of his hand quietly tightened.