Chapter 122: The Little Black Cat and the White Swan

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Watching her rush toward Mo Yan’s arms like a delighted little sparrow, Shi Yuan felt his heart tighten with an indescribable pain. He could only lower his head and force himself not to look.

Though he had warned himself again and again not to fall for her, not to love her, he found that the stirring in his heart grew stronger each time, accompanied by an ever more intense ache.

The feeling was so powerful that only now did he realize—perhaps this was what it truly meant to fall in love with someone. Before... at most, it had merely been infatuation.

Recalling the past, Shi Yuan felt as though a knife had been driven viciously into his heart, leaving him unable to breathe. The pain was the same, yet what he had felt for Jin’er had been mingled with love and reluctance to part, whereas the pain he felt now was pure hatred.

“Jin’er, you’re finally back.” Watching her light-footed figure hurry toward him like a beautiful elf, Mo Yan’s slight resentment, born of worry, instantly melted into boundless tenderness.

He opened his arms and drew her into his embrace. After lowering his head to kiss her lightly, he asked, “Why are you so late? You’re truly heartless—having such a wonderful time outside without sparing a thought for this poor injured man confined to bed, and even making me worry about you while I’m hurt.” His voice was gentle, yet full of grievance and reproach.

Jin’er’s heart softened. She bit her lip and looked up at his still somewhat pale, handsome face, a pang of tenderness passing through her. “I’m sorry. I had a few things to take care of while I was out. But I was thinking of you the whole way, truly.”

She gazed up into his eyes, filled with affection, and nearly lost herself in their deep pools.

Hearing her say so tenderly that she had been thinking of him, Mo Yan’s eyes immediately overflowed with joy and satisfaction. Tightening his arms around her, he lowered his head and kissed her.

Jin’er’s body tensed slightly, but she soon relaxed. Closing her eyes, she felt the longing and love he poured into the kiss, responding to him with her own lips and tongue.

After a deep, passionate kiss, they finally parted, both reluctant to let go.

Seeing the flush on Jin’er’s cheeks and the hazy look in her eyes, Mo Yan almost wished he could devour her then and there. But for the sake of their beautiful wedding night—and so that he could escape this helpless situation as soon as possible—he could only suppress his desire and make recovering from his injuries his priority.

After dinner, Jin’er accompanied Mo Yan on a short walk around the courtyard before dragging him back to his room, making him lie down, and supervising him as he took his medicine.

When that was done, she suddenly remembered the matter of changing her hair color. With a mischievous grin, she asked Mo Yan to teach her.

Mo Yan was speechless. Reaching up, he pinched her cheek and laughed. “Do you really like red hair that much? Your black hair is beautiful. Why insist on changing the color? People will think it strange when they see you.”

Jin’er stuck out her tongue at him and said smugly, “It’s called being different and showing your individuality. Don’t you understand? Changing the color every so often is like changing your hairstyle—and with your method, it doesn’t even damage the hair. What could be better?”

In the twenty-first century, dyeing one’s hair was extremely damaging. How could it compare with his method, which cost nothing, could be done whenever she pleased, and caused no harm?

Mo Yan only half understood what she meant, but he smiled. “All right. However, I don’t know whether your spiritual power is sufficient.” With that, he threw off the covers and rose from the bed.

Jin’er hurried over to support him. Together they walked to a small redwood cabinet in the corner. She watched as he opened one of its doors and took out a book with a yellow cover.

Jin’er leaned closer. Three large characters, written in sweeping strokes, adorned the cover: The Fire Control Formula. She immediately understood.

Mo Yan turned and handed her the book. “You must first learn to control your fire spirit. Only then can you stimulate the powerful spiritual energy within your body and change the color of your hair. After that, concentrate your thoughts and retain a portion of the spiritual energy in your hair. That’s all there is to it. You can practice the details gradually, of course—but only once you’ve become sufficiently powerful.”

He handed the yellow-covered book to Jin’er.

“This is something every member of our imperial family who possesses a fire spirit must learn. Although the book is the same for everyone, each person’s level of spiritual power is different, so the results of their training vary as well. Many people cannot master the advanced techniques later in the book.”

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Jin’er nodded thoughtfully and accepted the book, flipping through it roughly.

“How far can you go?” she asked curiously, looking up at him.

Mo Yan smiled. He took the book from her, flipped through the pages, and stopped at a certain one. Pointing to the illustration with his long, pale finger, he said, “This far.”

“Hellfire?” Jin’er raised her brows at the accompanying illustration. Flipping through the remaining pages, she found only three left, which showed just how high his spiritual power must be. She recalled that this had been the technique he used when the Crown Prince ambushed them. It truly had been formidable.

“How far can your Imperial Father go?” Jin’er asked, her curiosity running wild.

Mo Yan merely smiled. He turned the pages again, but this time he went backward, stopping two pages earlier.

Jin’er burst out laughing. “Hey, you didn’t deliberately lower your father’s level just to make yourself look more impressive in front of me, did you? You’re not even twenty yet. Could you really be more powerful than your father?”

Seeing that she actually did not believe him, Mo Yan grew somewhat dejected. “Am I truly so unimpressive in your eyes? I’m going to be angry.” He feigned displeasure as he spoke.

Jin’er hurriedly closed the book, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rubbed against him. “I was only teasing you. Hee-hee.”

Mo Yan gave a soft snort, and only then did his expression relax. He put an arm around her and said, “Everyone’s spiritual power may be strong or weak. It has nothing to do with age or seniority. Furthermore, one’s attainments in martial arts also affect how spiritual power can be used.”

“Oh, I understand. Come on, you should go lie down.” As she spoke, Jin’er helped Mo Yan back to the bed. After chatting with him for a while, she ignored his protests, ran back to her room, and began studying The Fire Control Formula.

Over the following days, Jin’er became almost obsessed with the book. Thanks to her exceptional talent, her progress was astonishingly swift, earning even Mo Yan’s admiration.

“Quick! It’s caught fire again! Put it out!”

Outside the room, Xiao Die anxiously ordered the little eunuchs who had long since been standing by to extinguish the flames.

The men hoisted their buckets and rushed forward, but before they could begin pouring, the flames leaping across the door suddenly vanished.

The little eunuchs stood there in a daze. They exchanged puzzled glances, then all turned toward Xiao Die.

Xiao Die was equally bewildered. At that moment, Jin’er’s delighted laughter came from inside. The next instant, the door was yanked open, and Jin’er appeared before them with her clothes and face covered in soot, looking as though she had crawled straight out of a chimney. The people at the door were all startled.

Not far away, Shi Yuan had been leaning against a tree trunk, watching the scene. He froze at the sight. His mouth fell open, and the tender twig he had been idly chewing slipped out and landed on the grass by his feet.

Ignoring their strange, exaggerated expressions, Jin’er rushed excitedly into Mo Yan’s room next door.

A moment later, a shriek rang out. Then everyone saw the soot-blackened Jin’er dash back out and head straight for her own room.

“Xiao Die, prepare a bath!” Jin’er called as she reached the door. She hurried inside and slammed it shut.

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In the room next door, Mo Yan continued laughing theatrically. The moment he remembered Jin’er’s black cat-like face and the way she had rushed in, bubbling with excitement, to announce that she could extinguish the flames, he could not stop laughing. His stomach hurt from it.

For all this time, he had been living on the edge of a fire scene every day. The once-pristine Moonlit Palace had nearly been reduced to ruins by her antics. Fortunately, since he was about to ascend the throne, construction on a new palace had already begun in earnest. Even if she completely destroyed this one, it would not matter.

After attending to Jin’er’s bath and change of clothes, Xiao Die cautiously went to open the door, afraid that the blackened door might suddenly collapse and crush her. She could not help complaining inwardly: Her young mistress was truly something else. Why did she have to turn a perfectly good room into this? Practicing outside would have been much safer, but she insisted that she could concentrate better indoors. And now look at it—the place no longer resembled a room fit for human habitation.

Just as she was thinking this, Mo Yan approached. She hurriedly bowed, then ran off to summon people to carry away the bathing tub.

Mo Yan stepped into the room. The faint fragrance in the air mingled with the smell of burned wood, creating an indescribably strange scent. He wrinkled his nose, shook his head with an amused sigh, and walked over to pull Jin’er, who was sitting before the mirror combing her hair, out of the room.

After descending the stone steps, they stopped beside the stone table in the courtyard. Mo Yan turned to face Jin’er, smiled, and raised a hand to stroke her delicate, smooth cheek.

“The little black cat has turned into a white swan.”

Jin’er pursed her lips, embarrassed. Remembering how she had looked in the mirror earlier, she could not help laughing too.

“You’re something else. Sometimes you’re so clever that people can only admire you, and sometimes you’re so foolish that you leave them laughing and crying at once.” As he spoke, Mo Yan gently pinched her cheek, his voice full of indulgence.

“When was I foolish?” Though she refused to admit it aloud, hearing those words from him made her feel sweet all over. Unable to resist, she leaned against him with a hint of coquettishness.

Mo Yan’s heart warmed. With a faint smile, he embraced her, tenderness shining across his face.

After a while, he released her and led her to sit on the stone bench. Then he stood behind her, took the comb from her hand, and gently and carefully combed her half-dry hair.

Jin’er sat obediently, a blissful smile playing at the corners of her lips as she savored the beautiful moment.

She wished time could remain frozen here forever. If it could, she and he would always be this perfect, always this happy...

After dinner, Mo Yan held Jin’er close as they strolled through the courtyard.

“Jin’er, tomorrow should be the day your poison flares up. I’ve already persuaded Imperial Father to lend me the Fire-Eye Stone. Tomorrow night, I’ll take you to the Imperial Study.”

The Fire Emperor had originally been unwilling, but in the end he could not withstand Mo Yan’s persistent pleading. After giving it some thought, he realized that Mo Yan would soon ascend the throne and already knew about the Fire-Eye Stone. Lending it to him while withholding its location—and having him return it after use—would do no harm. Thus, he ultimately agreed to Mo Yan’s request.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” After a burst of delight, however, a trace of sorrow soon rose in Jin’er’s heart.