Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands Chapter 41: Music Heals (2)

"Here." Lan ishan handed Ningyan a pill.

Ningyan was seated at the edge of the pool, his bare legs idly stirring the water. He wore only his trousers; his hair was drenched, his scarred skin slick with moisture. His flute rested loosely in his other hand.

He studied the round pill for a mont before popping it into his mouth.

Lan ishan sat beside him, his robe draped loosely over his shoulders, his chest partially exposed. He glanced at Ningyan from the corner of his eye.

The phoenix was... strange.

Nice. Purposeful. Strong too judging by the scars etched into his body.

Lan ishan had looked into Su Ningyan’s past. He knew how little he had been valued in his own ho. How easily Yan Wuhen had been able to take him away.

He felt an urge to reach out. To touch Ningyan’s damp hair, to ruffle it, to say you’ll be fine.

Instead, he curled his fingers into the fabric of his trousers.

Ningyan suddenly looked at him. "How did you know I was coming?"

"You always co by noon," Lan ishan replied, gently kicking the water.

"...Ah. Of course you’d notice," Ningyan said with a small smile.

Lan ishan found him even more endearing.

The short wet hair clinging to his face. That jade-toned skin.

The soft roundness of his features, plump pink lips, wide violet eyes.

He could see why Yan Wuhen had bound him with the spirit mate chain.

"Can I?" Lan ishan asked, gesturing toward Ningyan’s abdon.

Ningyan nodded, his face flushing pink as it always did. Lan ishan was certain Ningyan didn’t even realize it.

Gently, he pressed his hand against Ningyan’s abdon, sensing the core beneath.

It was stronger. Stable.

Lan ishan’s lips curved faintly.

"I think your recovery is complete," he said, withdrawing his hand. "You can begin leveling up now."

"Really?" Ningyan lit up. "I thought you said it would take a month."

"I did," Lan ishan admitted. "But you heal faster than expected. Your core is holding. Just enough."

Ningyan groaned, throwing his head back. "Finally."

"...Yes," Lan ishan said quietly. "But it also ans we won’t be seeing each other like this anymore."

He didn’t bother hiding the disappointnt in his voice.

Ningyan paused, then looked at him softly.

"Yeah... but I can still co here," he said. "For books. And I can play my music for you too. We can still be good friends."

Lan ishan nodded. "That’s alright with ."

His gaze drifted to the flute resting at Ningyan’s side.

"I think," he added after a mont, "you should play for yourself more."

"Huh?" Ningyan asked, confused.

"My clan," Lan ishan explained. "We specialize in healing rather than combat. Our cultivation cos from restoration, which is why we are rarely hard even during battle. That is what sets us apart from other beast clans."

He paused, then added quietly, "You seem to connect more to music. You should use that."

Ningyan looked even more bewildered. "How do I use music?"

Lan ishan let out a soft chuckle.

Ningyan smiled in return because ishan’s laughter was rare, and sohow... calming.

"Music heals, Ningyan," ishan said. "And I think the reason you’ve been struggling to reach the second stage, even when you try during recovery sessions, isn’t only because we weren’t finished."

He hesitated, then continued, keeping his voice gentle. "It’s because you’re scared."

Ningyan froze. "I’m not scared," he said quickly. "Why would I be? I want to be strong."

"But I told you," ishan replied calmly, "that even now, your core is still prone to shattering."

"I’m not scared." Ningyan’s expression hardened as he picked up his flute and stood.

Lan ishan looked up at him, wary.

Ningyan’s frown made him uneasy. He looked like he wanted to leave and while ishan usually preferred solitude, he didn’t want to be alone now.

"...Forgive if I spoke out of turn," he said softly.

"No." Ningyan groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Don’t apologize. You’re right."

He exhaled sharply.

"I am scared. Of course I am. I want to be strong, yes, but look at you all. You great divine beasts are overpowered. Even the weaker beasts could crush between their fingers." His voice dropped. "All my hard work could vanish if soone targets my core. I could lose everything. Lose myself. Get a bad ending."

Lan ishan listened in silence.

Then he said, "You just have to beco strong enough to prevent anyone from shattering your core."

He t Ningyan’s eyes. "Strong in mind, body, and soul."

Ningyan snorted and sat back down beside him. "You say that like it’s easy."

"I know," ishan admitted. "It’s easier said than done. But you’ve already co this far. I believe you can do it."

Ningyan blinked, then smiled faintly. "Thank you. That... really ans a lot."

Lan ishan’s gaze dropped to his lips, only for a second, before he quickly looked away and stood up, adjusting his crooked glasses.

"...Are you attending the Dance of Dragons Festival tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," Ningyan replied.

Lan ishan looked surprised. "You’re really going?"

"Yes. As Wuhen’s lover."

ishan humd thoughtfully. "It’s dangerous. But I’m sure he’ll protect you."

"Lucky ," Ningyan chuckled, standing and grabbing his robe.

"Are you being sarcastic?" Lan ishan asked.

Ningyan paused while fastening his robes and looked at him, smiling bright and unapologetically happy.

"Yes."

"Oh." Lan ishan smiled.

They soon left the room. Before they parted, Lan ishan handed Ningyan a cup of calming tea.

To prevent you from catching a cold, he had said. Then created a glowing portal beneath Ningyan’s feet, sending him back outside the imperial library.

Silence returned.

Lan ishan remained in his sleeping chamber, organizing scrolls, ancient texts, and bundles of dicinal herbs ant as gifts for the dragons. By the ti he finished, darkness had already settled beyond the windows.

He bathed, changed into fresh robes, and carefully cleaned the lenses of his spectacles with a soft cloth before putting them back on. He studied his reflection in the mirror.

A distinguished great divine beast prince.

A scholar.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and pressed a hand to his forehead, mimicking the gesture Ningyan had shown him earlier.

"One. Two. Three."

He breathed in. And out.

Again. And again.

Just as his heartbeat began to steady, a familiar pressure washed over the room.

Lan ishan turned sharply from the mirror.

His father stood there.

Their eyes were the sa shape, though his father’s were a lighter shade with a cold, displeased expression on his face. His dark hair and black robes only sharpened the oppressive aura he carried.

"Are you ready, ishan?"

Lan ishan straightened, smoothing his expression into practiced calm. "Yes, Father."