Meng Yan's trembling hands remained wrapped around Shen Yu's wrists. Her tear-filled eyes lifted to meet his, utterly stripped of the icy, untouchable pride that had defined her for decades. In its place lingered something raw, devotion, desperate and consuming. In her mind, this god-like doctor was enduring unbearable internal torment solely for her sake.
Shen Yu gazed down at her, golden eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory satisfaction. Slowly, he withdrew his hands from her delicate grip and raised them to cup her flushed cheeks, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
"Senior Meng's willingness to help… truly moves me," he murmured, his voice soft and hypnotic, sending a shiver through her body. His thumbs traced along her jawline, subtly guiding her gaze downward. "The excess Yang fire is gathering at my core. To draw it out without harming your fragile meridians… it must be released from the source."
Her breath caught.
