Chapter 88 – I Look Forward to It

In the end, Lin Wei decided to stay alone in the cabin.

Outside the window were clouds, and on the distant horizon, there was a boundary between blue and white.

He turned back, half-leaning against the headboard, and quietly extended a slender soul tendril to the next room.

“I must wait for him to come find me first,” he murmured, burying his face in the blanket, restless and uneasy for a while before finally calming down. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously poked the soul tendril toward the mage.

But it seemed he wasn’t fully prepared. The moment their souls touched, the sharp pain came too quickly. His soul twitched violently, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

The kitten on the bedside table was crunching on a magic crystal, the sound crisp and loud, echoing in the lingering pain, adding an extra layer of desolate sorrow.

“That little spendthrift, I’m already broke—I should have left it in the beast tide,” he thought bitterly, trying to distract himself from the pain.

In the other cabin, Duan Yu felt an indescribable sensation, as if something light, soft, and fine had pricked him.

It wasn’t spiritual energy, nor was it a fluctuation of magic. It felt somewhat familiar.

As if realizing something, he glanced at the cabin wall—then walked out of his room and approached the door of the neighboring cabin.

The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open. The kitten was sitting on the table by the bed, letting out a symbolic meow when it saw him.

Lin Wei poked his head out from under the blanket, pursed his lips, and said, “You’re here.”

Then, as if he’d successfully pulled off a prank, he smiled. “Now that you’re here, don’t leave.”

Seeing Lin Wei’s clearly less-than-lively expression, Duan Yu frowned. “Are you using a contract on me?”

“Yes, and of course you’d notice…” Lin Wei pulled the kitten in front of him, scratching the soft fur behind its ears, and honestly explained why he’d done it.

“It’s because of that Adrishig guy. I made a promise to him—he needs me to form soul contracts with the descendants of the Valley of Elements…”

He briefly recounted the story Adrishig had told him, explaining the whole situation, and emphasized the uniqueness of Duan Yu’s soul. Then he added, “So I’m trying my best to form a contract with you to strengthen my soul. Adrishig said if I can get halfway through a contract with you, I’ll be strong enough to contract with other humans.”

“But it’s too hard,” Lin Wei said, accidentally scratching the kitten a bit too hard. The little creature, which had been enjoying the attention, squirmed out of his grip and quickly climbed up Duan Yu’s clothes, perching on the mage’s right shoulder, looking down at Lin Wei from above.

Lin Wei ignored it and continued, his tone somewhat dejected. “During the Death Swamp, I passed out immediately. This time I didn’t, but it’s not much better. The moment the contract touched your soul, I couldn’t bear it.”

“Even with the simplest contract?” Duan Yu asked.

“It’s no use—you’re just like this damn kitten!” Lin Wei glanced at the kitten with its dark golden eyes. “Those contracts don’t even touch your soul before they’re rejected. Your soul, high and mighty, tells me that the only contract it will accept is a life contract!”

Lin Wei’s eyes were full of accusation.

The mage wasn’t good at handling such situations. After thinking for a while, the only suitable thing he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

Lin Wei: “…”

This person’s attitude toward him didn’t seem to have changed… He felt a mix of relief and a hint of disappointment. Mischievously, he scooted closer to the edge of the bed and patted the pillow beside him. “Come here.”

“Let’s try again. Hmm… you need to relax, and your soul needs to fully accept me.”

“I don’t know how to accept you,” Duan Yu said. “I can’t feel my soul.”

“That’s right, you’re not a summoner. Let me see…” Lin Wei thought for a moment, then pulled out a thick book from his space ring. The title was Soul Contracts. As he flipped through the pages, he said, “I never paid much attention to this before because most souls I encountered weren’t stronger than mine—found it.”

He read the passage: “A contract can be forced, but this will never be the optimal state of forming a bond. In contracts beyond master-servant relationships, we hope for equality, friendliness, and honesty between both parties. They should be familiar with each other and look forward to the contract they are about to form. Only then can the contract truly penetrate the soul.”

After finishing that section, he flipped a few more pages. “This part is about life contracts—we assume that the contracted party has sufficient intelligence. It must be acknowledged that the fear of fully surrendering one’s soul is universal, so both parties must have a high level of trust, matching strength, and the courage to take risks—because you will be completely connected in life and mind.”

Lin Wei read through the other contents on those pages repeatedly before finally concluding, “It seems like we meet the conditions for a life contract.”

He added, “So you probably don’t need to waste energy trying to feel your soul… You just need to look forward to it and trust me!”

Seeing Lin Wei’s confident demeanor, the mage began trying to forcefully stir up his emotions—something he had never done before.

After a while, Duan Yu said to Lin Wei, “I’m not looking forward to it… and I can’t trust you.”

Lin Wei: “!”

He stared in disbelief for a moment, then turned to look at Duan Yu, as if wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

The mage saw the complex change in Lin Wei’s eyes in that moment—those moist eyes—and realized that what he’d just said was very wrong and could easily be misunderstood.

He often couldn’t understand Lin Wei’s thoughts, but this time, he strangely understood that look and quickly made an effective correction: “I was only talking about the contract… it’s going to hurt you.”

Duan Yu’s gaze was always calm and indifferent, even when looking at someone like this—but it was also a kind of unadulterated sincerity.

“He’s worried about me, even if he doesn’t realize it himself,” Lin Wei thought, staring blankly. This realization carried a warmth that made his soul tremble slightly.

His eyes softened like a snowmelt lake in spring, and he shook his head. “No… I’m not afraid of pain. You need to forget about that. What you should look forward to is the effect after the contract is formed—our souls were originally drifting alone in the Sea of Stars, but the contract will connect them. There will be no barriers between us. It’s one of the most unbreakable bonds. Time and space won’t be able to separate us, just like…”

Lin Wei thought for a moment but couldn’t find a suitable analogy—after all, he’d never formed a life contract before.

Helplessly, he said, “I don’t know how to put it, but just look forward to a good outcome, okay?”

Facing the impending pain, as if seeking safety, he unconsciously leaned closer to Duan Yu and closed his eyes again. “Are you ready? I’m starting.”

The soul tendril extended again, gently touching Duan Yu’s soul, which was so close. Lin Wei’s body shivered slightly.

“I haven’t pulled back yet. This time is better than before…” His voice trembled as the soul tendril extended a bit further—he finally intuitively felt the suppression of soul levels. He felt like a grain of sand drifting and sinking in an ocean, tiny and terrified.

A few strands of slightly sweat-damp hair were scattered messily across his cheeks. Duan Yu didn’t know how to alleviate Lin Wei’s pain, so the only thing he could do was gently brush them aside.

But this simple act nearly broke Lin Wei. Amid the overwhelming pain, such a light and delicate touch created an extreme contrast, giving him a sense of collapse, like a feather landing on water, sending ripples through the depths of his soul.

He couldn’t suppress a gasp, his breathing heavy, with a hint of a whimper in his voice.

Lin Wei trembled but seemed to realize something, speaking haltingly, “Can you… hold me?”

Without waiting for Duan Yu to respond, he leaned closer, burying his face in the mage’s neck. Feeling the strength of the embrace around his shoulders and back, he smiled—a weak, fragile, yet satisfied smile.

His body, which had been tense from pain, gradually relaxed. Lin Wei felt the embrace and let his mind go blank—this person’s soul was high and mighty, ruthlessly scraping his soul with a sharp blade… yet their bodies were tightly pressed together—gentle and strong.

The grain of sand drifting and sinking in the ocean gave up struggling, swept along by the deep-sea currents, the water gentle and strong, taking it to an unknown destination.

The soul tendril, originally condensed into a thin line, began to disperse into a soft, hazy glow, turning into a gentle flow of light mist.

“Like this…” he continued, the pain slightly lessened. “What you should look forward to is this: our souls will be inseparable. My pain and joy will be completely entrusted to you… and yours to me. There will be no betrayal, no separation, just like… like two drops of mercury for an alchemist…”

The mage held him close, feeling every tremor in his body and the low gasps in his voice. Closing his eyes, he imagined what Lin Wei was describing.

Like two drops of mercury, very close together, gently touching…

Even the kitten on the bedside sensed the unusual soul aura of the two, pausing its gnawing on the magic crystal, its dark golden eyes cautiously watching its two masters, who seemed to be up to something.

In the silence, a soft, warm atmosphere quietly grew.

“I can imagine,” the mage’s arms tightened slightly. “I look forward to it.”

Another mist of light began to spread and flow. The sharp blade had unknowingly turned into seawater, gently cradling the drifting grain of sand, passing through the branching coral reefs, emerging from the dark, jagged caves, heading toward the faint light cast by the distant sea surface. The two mists of light slowly merged, the pain gradually faded, and the first symbol of the contract was finally etched. The spiritual and soul energy were completely depleted, and the contract formation process came to an abrupt halt. Lin Wei’s body went limp as he opened his eyes.

“We succeeded,” he said, calming his breathing, whispering in Duan Yu’s ear. “It’ll be like this from now on… We’ll take it slow, and eventually, we’ll carve more marks into it.”

Duan Yu wiped the sweat from his forehead and smoothed his soft black hair. “Don’t talk anymore. Rest first.”

Lin Wei hummed in agreement, then suddenly smiled, with a hint of spoiled arrogance.

In a weak, slightly hoarse voice, he said softly, “It’s all because of your soul strength. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in pain—I’m going to punish you!”

“I’m punishing you… by not letting you move until I wake up!” Lin Wei was quite pleased with this idea, feeling like he finally understood why those spoiled young noblemen in the Imperial Capital were so obsessed with bullying others.

The “bullied” mage held him a little tighter. “Alright.”

The Young Duke closed his eyes contentedly—he was a lenient person, and this level of movement was tolerable, even perfect.