The ceremony dragged on.
More summoning attempts followed, some successful, others not.
At first, Yao Yao had been watching with keen interest, trying to gauge each participant's success or failure. But as time passed, the process became… repetitive.
Pour in magic.
Wait.
A spirit appears.
Or doesn't.
She sighed.
Ying Ying's summoning was exciting, but everything after that felt like an endless blur of glowing threads.
Her pink eyes wandered to Shang Jun.
Unlike her, he was still watching the ceremony with unwavering focus. His posture remained straight, his eyes calmly observing every summoner, absorbing every detail with precision.
Yao Yao, on the other hand, was losing interest fast.
Slowly, she leaned against him, slumping into his side without a second thought.
"Brother…" she drawled lazily, her voice muffled against his sleeve. "When will this end?"
Shang Jun cast a quick glance at her. "Are you tired already?" he asked lightly.
"Mhm." Yao Yao nuzzled deeper into his sleeve, making herself comfortable. "It's taking forever."
Another summoning took place, but she barely paid attention. She absently grabbed onto Shang Jun's sleeve, fidgeting with the fabric.
Shang Jun chuckled softly. "You wanted to be here, didn't you?"
"I did," she admitted. "But I didn't think it would be this long."
She exhaled dramatically, her stomach growling softly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten a single bite since morning.
Min Min, seated beside her, visibly tensed. Her eyes shot daggers at Yao Yao, her gaze fixed on how casually she was leaning against Shang Jun.
Her brother.
Min Min's face darkened with annoyance.
"Get off him," she snapped, her voice sharp.
Yao Yao blinked lazily, turning her head just slightly to glance at Min Min.
Oh.
Is she jealous?
She didn't budge.
Instead, she snuggled in deeper against Shang Jun, her tiny arms wrapping around his sleeve like a stubborn cat.
Then, with the most innocent, wide-eyed expression, she said, "But he's my precious brother too."
Min Min visibly stiffened.
Her face twisted into a scowl, her voice raising a pitch louder. "He's MY big brother!"
Yao Yao tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "And?"
Min Min stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
She turned to Shang Jun, as if expecting him to intervene.
But Shang Jun merely sighed, looking mildly exasperated but not displeased.
"Enough, Min Min," he said evenly. "Don't cause a scene."
Min Min stomped her foot in frustration, shooting Yao Yao a death glare.
But Yao Yao only grinned. She closed her eyes and rested comfortably against Shang Jun, completely unbothered.
The ceremony continued, and with the warmth of Shang Jun beside her, exhaustion slowly crept in.
The voices of the ceremony faded into background noise.
She closed her eyes for just a second.
Just one second.
By the time she realized it, the ceremony had already ended.
A soft jostle of movement woke Yao Yao from her sleep. She blinked groggily, feeling the weight of her head and the heaviness in her body. The sky was already dark, and it took her a moment to realise she was being carried.
Shang Jun was carrying her on his back.
Yao Yao peeked up at his face.
He looked… calm. As if carrying his troublesome little sister was simply another duty he had to handle.
The warmth was comfortable… she didn't need to walk… might as well take advantage of it.
Yao Yao closed her eyes again.
No reason to walk if she didn't have to.
—
Shang Jun gently placed Yao Yao in bed, adjusting the covers around her as she shifted restlessly under the soft fabric.
Far away, the grand hall was alive with music and celebration. A royal ball, held after every summoning to celebrate the successful contract unions.
Shang Jun let out a soft sigh, glancing down at Yao Yao, who remained blissfully unaware of the excitement beyond the walls.
He leaned over and gently poked her cheek.
"Yao Yao," he whispered, his tone soothing. "Wake up. You'll miss everything."
Yao Yao mumbled incoherently, her tiny hands instinctively swatting at the disturbance. Her face scrunched up, and she pulled the blankets tighter around herself, completely unfazed by the world around her.
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "You forced your way to the ceremony, only to sleep through the royal ball,"
With one last glance at the peaceful sight of his sister, he quietly left the room, leaving a guard stationed outside to ensure she remained safe and undisturbed.
Once Shang Jun was gone, the door to the balcony creaked open without a sound.
Rong Xi entered the room like a shadow, his footsteps light and his presence barely detectable. He scanned the space briefly before settling his gaze on the small figure curled beneath the blankets, sound asleep and completely unaware.
Moonlight spilled in through the open balcony, casting a soft glow on the bed where she lay. The curtains swayed gently in the breeze behind him, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching her.
Yao Yao's hands were tucked beneath her cheek, stray strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. Even in sleep, there was a faint crease on her brow. She looked so peaceful and unaware.
So small.
So harmless.
And yet—she resonated with the portal.
His eyes widened, just slightly.
He didn't know what she was.
But he knew what she wasn't.
She wasn't supposed to resonate with the portal.
Is that why she frightens you?
His shoulder tensed at the voice echoing softly in his mind.
Slowly, Rong Xi lowered his gaze and raised his hand.
From the center of his palm, a faint light bloomed. A single lotus petal began to form, glowing faintly like the essence of the night itself.
It hovered in the air, as if waiting for him to make the next move.
He stared at it for a long moment, unmoving.
There was hesitation in his eyes. Just for a second.
He didn't understand why.
She's not supposed to matter, he reminded himself.
And now, she is a variable...an anomaly...a stray piece on his board.
A risk he hadn't accounted for.
And in his world—his plan, every move had to be his.
It's just…a precaution.
For now.
His fingers curled, and with a tilt of his wrist, the petal slipped free. It drifted downwards in a gentle motion, landing lightly on her forehead, almost too light, like a feather brushing against her skin, before vanishing without a trace.
Sinking into her.
Leaving nothing behind.
Yao Yao's eyelids fluttered.
The familiar comfort of sleep was slipping away, replaced by a subtle disturbance in the air. Her heart gave a small jolt as her eyes shot wide open.
For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was, or why the room felt different. Her fingers brushed against her forehead, the warmth of her skin feeling unfamiliar.
She could've sworn she had felt something there, something light, like a touch—but it was gone now.
She looked around the room as she sat up.
It was empty.