The moment Chen Hai's presence vanished from the Phoenix Realm, the pressure in the hall lifted—but Qianfan did not.
He stood there, unmoving.
Eyes unfocused.
Breathing shallow.
Shaoyang took a careful step closer.
Shaoyang: "Qianfan…?"
No response.
His body swayed slightly—then his knees gave out.
Shaoyang: "Qianfan!"
She caught him just before he hit the ground, her grip tightening as his weight fell against her. His head tilted forward, completely unresponsive.
Feng Hua moved instantly.
Feng Hua: "Lay him down—carefully."
They lowered him to the floor.
His breathing was uneven, but steady enough.
Still—
He didn't wake.
Shaoyang's voice dropped, strained.
Shaoyang: "What's wrong with him…?"
Feng Muyu stepped forward, his gaze sharp as he observed Qianfan's condition.
Feng Muyu: "His spiritual energy is stable… but his consciousness has withdrawn."
Shaoyang frowned.
Shaoyang: "Withdrawn…?"
Feng Hua's expression hardened slightly—not in anger, but in realization.
Feng Hua: "He didn't faint from exhaustion."
A pause.
Her eyes shifted toward the direction Chen Hai had left.
Feng Hua: "That man… triggered something."
Shaoyang tightened her hold on Qianfan unconsciously.
Shaoyang: "Triggered… what?"
Feng Hua didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she turned to Feng Muyu
Feng Hua: "Come with me."
Shaoyang looked up.
Shaoyang: "Where are you going?"
Feng Hua's voice softened, but remained firm.
Feng Hua: "Stay with him."
Feng Muyu gave a brief nod before following her.
Shaoyang hesitated—then looked back down at Qianfan, her grip tightening slightly.
Shaoyang: "…I'm not going anywhere."
Outside the hall Feng Hua stopped.
Her expression was no longer restrained.
Feng Muyu watched her quietly.
Feng Muyu: "You noticed it too."
Feng Hua let out a slow breath.
Feng Hua: "That wasn't fear."
A pause.
Feng Hua: "That was conditioning."
Feng Muyu's gaze sharpened slightly.
Feng Muyu: "Explain."
Feng Hua folded her arms, her voice low but certain.
Feng Hua: "The moment Chen Hai touched him, Qianfan didn't react like someone who was threatened."
Another pause.
Feng Hua: "He reacted like someone who had already learned what would happen next."
Silence settled between them.
Feng Muyu: "You're saying...….
Feng Hua cut in.
Feng Hua: "He's been abused."
The words landed heavily.
Feng Hua: "Severely."
Feng Muyu didn't speak.
Feng Hua continued, her tone steadier now, but colder.
Feng Hua: "His body remembered before his mind did."
A brief pause.
Feng Hua: "That kind of response doesn't come from a single incident."
Feng Muyu's expression darkened slightly.
Feng Muyu: "Psychological restraint…"
Feng Hua nodded.
Feng Hua: "Yes."
Another silence.
Then—
Feng Hua: "He needs time to heal."
Feng Muyu glanced back toward the hall.
Feng Muyu: "There's plenty of time"
Feng Hua shook her head.
Feng Hua: "How do we go about it"
She stepped closer, her voice quieter now.
Feng Hua: "Let him stay with Shaoyang."
Feng Muyu looked at her.
Feng Hua: "She stabilizes him."
A pause.
Feng Hua: "And she needs this too."
Feng Muyu: "Needs… what?"
Feng Hua's gaze softened slightly.
Feng Hua: "To accept who she is."
Another pause.
Feng Hua: "She's the Saintess's daughter."
The words lingered.
Feng Hua: "Whether she's ready or not."
Feng Muyu exhaled slowly.
Feng Hua: "Let them look after each other."
Silence followed.
Then—Feng Muyu gave a small nod.
Feng Muyu: "…I think you're right."
A pause.
Feng Muyu: "We'll do it."
Back inside—
Shaoyang hadn't moved.
Qianfan still lay against her, unconscious.
Her hand rested lightly against his shoulder.
Steady.
Present.
Shaoyang (softly): "You're not dealing with this alone… whether you like it or not."
No response came.
Only the quiet rise and fall of his breath.
Shaoyang stayed like that for a long time.
Not because she didn't know what to do—but because moving felt wrong, like the slightest shift might break something already fragile inside him.
Qianfan's breathing remained shallow. Uneven. But present.
That was enough—for now.
The hall outside had gone quiet again, the elders dispersing after Feng Muyu and Feng Hua left. Only the faint crackle of residual spiritual embers remained in the air.
Shaoyang lowered her gaze.
Shaoyang (softly): "You were looking at him like you already knew him…"
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
Shaoyang: "But he doesn't even know himself properly, does he?"
Qianfan didn't respond.
A pause stretched between them.
Then—very faintly—his fingers twitched.
Shaoyang noticed immediately.
Shaoyang: "Qianfan?"
No answer again.
But this time, his brows shifted. A subtle tightening, like something deep inside him was resisting a memory trying to surface.
His breathing stuttered.
Shaoyang leaned closer, voice softer now.
Shaoyang: "It's okay. You're safe."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, nothing changed.
Then—Qianfan's lips parted slightly not a word came out.
But his expression… changed , not awareness but fear
Pure, instinctive fear—before thought, before reason.
His body tried to curl inward.
Shaoyang immediately adjusted her hold, grounding him without restraining him.
Shaoyang: "Hey… hey, I've got you."
His breathing quickened.
Feng Hua's voice echoed faintly from earlier in Shaoyang's mind:
That was conditioning.
Shaoyang swallowed.
Shaoyang (low, steady): "You're not there anymore. You're here."
A pause.
Qianfan's fingers slowly unclenched.
Just slightly.
Like something inside him had stopped bracing for impact.
But he still didn't wake.
Outside the hall, Feng Muyu and Feng Hua stood at a distance, watching through the open doorway.
Feng Muyu spoke quietly.
Feng Muyu: "He's reacting even in unconsciousness."
Feng Hua nodded once.
Feng Hua: "That's why it's dangerous."
A pause.
Feng Hua: "His mind doesn't need Chen Hai present to remember him."
Feng Muyu's gaze darkened.
Feng Muyu: "Then every memory is a trigger."
Feng Hua didn't deny it.
Instead, she said softly:
Feng Hua: "Which is why we don't force him to remember."
A pause.
Feng Hua: "We teach him what safety feels like first."
Feng Muyu glanced back inside again.
Shaoyang was still there.
Unmoving.
Anchoring him.
Feng Muyu exhaled slowly.
Feng Muyu: "And if she becomes his only anchor?"
Feng Hua's expression softened—but not with doubt.
With certainty.
Feng Hua: "Then we make sure she doesn't break under the weight of it."
Silence followed.
Inside the hall, Qianfan's breathing began to steady again.
Still fragile.
Still distant.
But no longer slipping deeper.