Chapter 217: Pei Yue's Warmth: A Healer's Concern

Shen Yan sat beside the broken stone tablet, his hands still tucked into his pockets. His phone screen had long gone dark, yet he felt a lingering warmth in his palm, as if the green light from earlier was still flickering.

The wind had grown stronger, chilling the back of his neck. He coughed softly, paying little attention to it, but then his chest tightened abruptly, as if a wire were being pulled taut inside. He frowned and pressed a hand against his ribs, his fingertips brushing against a patch of damp warmth.

Blood had already seeped through.

He didn’t move or wipe it away. He knew this kind of injury well—it wasn’t an external wound but a hidden ailment left behind by the backlash of Spiritual Energy. Every time he forcibly refactored a Spell Program, his body would tally the cost. Now, with Ye Zhao gone and the System paralyzed, he was barely holding on.

The distant ruins were eerily quiet, not even a spark crackling.

Just then, light footsteps crunched over the gravel and stopped before him.

Pei Yue crouched down without a word, reaching out to take his wrist.

Shen Yan tried to pull back. “I’m fine.”

“Your heart rate is 127 beats per minute, your breathing is erratic, and your Triple Burner Meridian is over 60% blocked,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on his pulse. “And you still think you’re fine?”

Shen Yan opened his mouth but didn’t argue.

He knew she was right. But he also knew this wasn’t the time to collapse.

“Don’t waste your Spiritual Power,” he said. “You need to save it for the seriously injured.”

Pei Yue glanced at him and suddenly smiled. “You are the seriously injured one right now.”

Without waiting for a response, she took seven silver needles from her Medicine Pouch. The needles glimmered faintly with a greenish light, clearly infused with medicinal herbs.

The first needle pierced the Dan Zhong Point.

Shen Yan grunted, his back stiffening. A warm current surged through his meridians, slowly dispersing the stagnant Spiritual Energy, the pain making his teeth ache.

The second needle went into the Shenque point, the third into the Zusanli point. With each insertion, the turmoil within his body subsided a little.

Pei Yue’s hands were steady, and as she worked, she hummed a soft, fragmented tune under her breath, like a medical mantra she’d learned as a child.

Shen Yan closed his eyes, listening to the sound, his tense nerves gradually relaxing.

“Do you all…” he suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse, “think I can handle everything?”

Pei Yue paused briefly.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I just think you always treat yourself like an unbreakable machine. But you can hurt too, get tired, feel afraid.”

Shen Yan’s lips twitched. “What am I afraid of? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You’re afraid we’ll all leave, one by one,” Pei Yue whispered. “Like when Ye Zhao left just now—you clearly wanted to chase after her, but you stood still.”

Shen Yan said nothing.

The night wind blew past, carrying the scent of ashes. He opened his eyes, gazing at the torn seam of clouds on the horizon, his voice almost inaudible. “She said she wants to sever fate… but if I can’t keep up, what’s the point of all their efforts?”

Pei Yue withdrew the last needle, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of his hand.

In that instant, the warm touch shot through him like an electric current.

He abruptly grabbed her wrist.

Pei Yue froze, not pulling away.

“Why don’t you all stay away?” Shen Yan looked up at her, his gaze slightly scattered. “I go to the black market to fight, and you save me; I go to blow up a temple, and you help clean up the mess; now my code crashes, and you still have to come clean up after me… What am I to you? A babysitter or a bodyguard?”

Pei Yue watched him quietly.

“You are Shen Yan,” she said. “You’re the one we choose to follow.”

The wind suddenly stilled.

Shen Yan’s hands were still trembling. He tried to let go but found he had gripped too tightly, leaving him powerless.

“I…” his throat moved, “I don’t want to see anyone get hurt because of me again. Ye Zhao is gone, and I don’t know if she’ll ever come back. Luo Li is wanted, Yu Xiaotang almost suffered a Talisman Array backlash… You all charge forward, while I can only sit here typing code, like an outsider.”

“Have you ever thought,” Pei Yue asked softly, “that we didn’t stay just so you could protect us?”

Shen Yan froze.

“We stay because you’re here,” she said. “Because you still leave an Interface for Ye Zhao, secretly buy milk tea for Yu Xiaotang, and stay up all night when Luo Li has a fever. No one ordered you to do these things, but you did them.”

Slowly, she placed her hand over the back of his. “So don’t say things like ‘wasting Spiritual Power’ anymore. Healing you isn’t a waste. You’re worth it.”

Shen Yan’s breath caught.

He wanted to say something, but the words stuck in his throat, unable to emerge.

The night deepened, leaving only the two of them in the ruins. The distant fire had completely died out, and the world fell into silence.

He slowly stood up, his movements stiff, as if waking from a long battle.

Then, he reached out and gently pulled her into his embrace.

Pei Yue stiffened but did not push him away. Her face pressed against his shoulder, she could feel his heartbeat—heavy and slow.

Shen Yan closed his eyes, tightening his arms.

In this moment, he didn’t want to think about the Source Code Spiritual Root, the Heavenly Dao Program, or unraveling a thousand-year conspiracy. He just wanted to remember this warmth—someone truly standing by his side, even as the world crumbled around them.

Pei Yue’s hand slowly rose, resting lightly on his back.

She didn’t speak, only leaned in closer.

The wind picked up again, sweeping dust over the broken walls. A charred fragment of Talisman Paper swirled past, landing at their feet.

Shen Yan suddenly whispered, “If Yu Xiaotang saw this, she’d definitely stuff my pockets with a bunch of puppy protection talismans tomorrow.”

Pei Yue chuckled softly. “Yesterday, she said you and Ye Zhao were ‘the love-hate relationship between a Program Bug and a sword’s edge.’ Now with me added, should it be renamed ‘Medical Patch Online’?”

Shen Yan laughed too, his shoulders shaking.

“What about Luo Li? What version is she?”

“Firewall,” Pei Yue said. “The kind with Demonic Fire effects.”

They both fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter again.

Their laughter echoed through the ruins, sounding exceptionally clear.

Shen Yan looked down at her in his arms and noticed the jade hairpin in her bun was slightly askew. He raised his hand and carefully straightened it for her.

The moment the Tip of his Finger brushed her earlobe, Pei Yue trembled slightly.

Shen Yan quickly withdrew his hand. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s fine,” she said, lowering her head, her cheeks slightly flushed. “It’s been a long time since you held someone this quietly, hasn’t it?”

Shen Yan didn’t answer.

He simply wrapped his arm around her again, holding her even tighter.

The night breeze brushed past, lifting strands of her hair that swept across his face, tickling him.

Suddenly remembering something, he pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen was still dark, but he tapped the boot-up key and muttered softly, “Once the System restarts, I need to add a new feature.”

“What feature?” Pei Yue asked.

“Automatic detection of abnormal body temperature,” he said. “Once it detects a certain doctor recklessly consuming Spiritual Power to save someone, it will immediately pop up a warning: ‘Notice: You have been working continuously for thirty-six hours. Please rest immediately.'”

Pei Yue chuckled. “Then you should install one for yourself first. I can report a repair right now—patient on the verge of a mental breakdown, urgently in need of psychological intervention.”

Shen Yan laughed too. “Alright, I’ll arrange it right away. Priority set to highest.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his phone suddenly vibrated.

The screen lit up.

It wasn’t booting up, nor was it the System recovering. Instead, it was a notice:

【Detected high-intensity Spiritual Power Fluctuation nearby. Source unknown. Distance: three hundred paces. Approaching.】

Shen Yan frowned and immediately tightened his grip on the phone.

Pei Yue sensed something was off and looked up.

Before he could speak, a purplish-red flame suddenly rose in the distance, illuminating half of the ruins.

Immediately after, a cat’s cry pierced the night sky.

Shen Yan pulled Pei Yue behind him, his gaze fixed on the flames as he lowered his voice. “Don’t move. Something’s wrong.”

(End of Chapter)