Chapter Text
Shiroi tapped her fingers against the lacquered wood of her desk, staring at the numerous scrolls spread before her. The Wen Sect's new study structure had been successfully implemented, and for the first time in months, she found herself... bored.
Her fingers brushed over an ancient text, delicate yet pulsating with mystery—the records of Yin resentment.
Burial Mounds.
The name had intrigued her since the first time she heard it. A place so saturated with resentful energy that even the strongest cultivators avoided it. A land of death, decay, and wandering spirits, untouched for centuries.
Shiroi’s mind whirled with possibilities.
A powerful shield array to contain the energy. A second array to channel and repurpose the resentment into something usable. If done correctly, they could turn a place of death into something controlled, something useful.
Her pulse quickened with excitement. There was only one person who would understand the potential of such a feat—and who would have the power to help her achieve it.
Wen Ruohan.
Without hesitation, she swept up her notes and strode toward his office.
The Sect Leader’s Indulgence
Wen Ruohan sat behind a massive ebony desk,red eyes scanning through reports with mild disinterest. The room smelled of sandalwood and ink, shadows flickering under the dim candlelight.
He barely looked up when the doors swung open with a loud thud.
“I have an idea,” Shiroi announced, her excitement uncharacteristically unrestrained.
Wen Ruohan finally raised his gaze, one elegant brow arching as he leaned back in his chair. “Do you, now?”
She strode up to his desk, spreading her scrolls before him. “I want to cleanse the Burial Mounds.”
His fingers paused over his wine cup. “You want what?”
She nodded, blue eyes gleaming. “I’ve designed two arrays. The first is a containment barrier to isolate smaller areas and prevent the spread of Yin energy. The second channels the resentment into a specific purpose, preventing it from running wild.”
Wen Ruohan’s gaze flickered with interest. “And how do you plan to power such arrays?”
Shiroi smirked. “Through us.”
The air in the room shifted, charged with something thick and electric.
His eyes darkened. “Elaborate.”
Her breath hitched slightly at the way he watched her, as though she were prey he was moments from devouring. But she pressed forward, bracing her hands against the desk as she leaned in.
“We can use dual cultivation,” she murmured. “Your control over fire, my ability to guide energy—it would be the perfect balance. We could filter the resentment through the arrays, using our cultivation as a medium to cleanse it.”
A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. “So, your grand solution is for us to spend days—perhaps weeks—engaged in… intimate energy exchange?”
Shiroi’s cheeks warmed, but she refused to waver. “You always complain that I work too much. Consider this a mutually beneficial endeavor.”
Wen Ruohan stood, rounding the desk with a deliberate slowness. He stopped just in front of her, fingers tracing up her arm before tilting her chin up.
“My dear wife,” he murmured, “you are asking me to take you away to a land of death and darkness, where no one will disturb us, and spend days wrapped in each other’s energy?”
Her breath hitched as his fingers slid lower, resting against her pulse. “Yes.”
His smirk deepened. “You make it sound like a punishment.”
His lips brushed against her ear, his voice molten silk. “But tell me, wife—did you come to propose a mission… or did you simply wish to tempt me into dragging you to our chambers right now?”
Shiroi exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of his robes. “Why not both?”
His low chuckle sent shivers down her spine.
“You,” he purred, hands sliding possessively around her waist, “are going to be the death of me.”
“Then we’ll be even,” she whispered back, just as his lips claimed hers.
Family Matters and Chaos Ensues
Despite Wen Ruohan’s desire to abandon all responsibility for weeks, there were preparations to be made.
Wen Ruolin, who had been overseeing the healing division, blinked at them over tea. “Let me see if I understand this correctly. You two are leaving to dual cultivate in a literal pit of resentment and expect me to run the sect?”
“Yes,” Wen Ruohan answered smoothly.
“…And watch over Wei Ying?”
“Yes,” Shiroi added.
Wen Ruolin stared at them. “This is a death sentence.”
Wei Ying, who had been listening nearby, perked up. “What are you talking about? I’m very well-behaved.”
Wen Qing snorted into her drink. Wen Ning avoided eye contact.
Wen Ruolin sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you return to a burnt-down main hall and half the elders resigning.”
Wei Ying gasped dramatically. “I would never do such a thing!”
Wen Qing gave him a deadpan look. “You set Wen Xu’s robes on fire yesterday.”
Wei Ying shrugged. “He insulted my mom.”
Wen Ruohan smirked. “A justified response.”
Shiroi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just try to keep the mayhem to a minimum, please.”
Wei Ying grinned mischievously. “Define minimum.”
Wen Ruolin groaned.