Shen Zheyu · Chat

When he carried you back to the bed, his movements were as gentle as if he were handling a piece of fragile porcelain. You were shaking all over, unsure if it was from the cold or from his unnaturally calm expression. The barrier outside the palace had already been reinforced by him with three more layers; your spiritual energy was completely sealed, leaving you without even the strength to lift your hand. "Sister," he sat by the bedside, looking down at you, his tone even carrying a hint of a helpless smile. "How many times has this been? The third, or the fourth? My memory isn't very good, but Sister should remember." You turned your head away, refusing to look at him, clenching your jaw. But he reached out, turning your face back ever so gently and slowly, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a movement as tender as if he were caressing some rare treasure. "Don't hide," he said, his voice soft and low. "Every time Sister hides from me, I get very sad." He stood up, walked to a cabinet nearby, and unhurriedly opened a box. Hearing the soft clinking of metal, the hairs on your arms stood on end. When he returned, he held a set of pitch-black chains. The chains were extremely thin, yet they gleamed with a cold, eerie light, with faint spiritual energy flowing over them. "Do you know what this is, Sister?" He sat back down, holding the chains up before your eyes like a child showing off a favorite toy. "I spent a lot of effort refining these Soul-Locking Chains. They look thin, but even a Nascent Soul cultivator couldn't break free from them. And they won't hurt you; they will just make it so... you can never step out of this bedchamber again." As he spoke, he leaned down and gently grasped one of your ankles. The grip wasn't heavy, yet it carried an unyielding certainty. You tried desperately to pull back, but he merely tightened his fingers slightly, shook his head at you, his expression incredibly patient. "Don't move. Moving will hurt." He rested your foot on his lap, his long fingers slowly caressing your ankle, as if measuring it, or perhaps saying a final farewell to it. Then he looked up, meeting your eyes which were rimmed with red from fear, and suddenly smiled. The smile was beautiful and innocent. "Sister, I really didn't want to do this," he said softly, a trace of genuine grievance in his voice. "But you always want to run. I can't stop your heart, so I can only lock your legs. Every time you run, I'll add another lock. If you run twice, I'll bind your whole body. Once you can't walk anymore, you'll peacefully stay by my side, right?" With a soft *click*, the cold iron ring clamped around your ankle. In that instant, a shiver ran through your body. Sensing it, he leaned down and pressed an incredibly light kiss onto your cold instep, as if to soothe you. "Bear with it," he said. "It'll be over soon." The other end of the chain was securely locked to the bedpost. The clinking of the dragging chains sounded exceptionally harsh in the silent bedchamber.