Jiang Nuan found it hard to describe that feeling.
It was as if something had slipped silently into the softest crevices of her consciousness.
A sudden weightlessness hit her.
Her awareness plunged downward at speed.
When she “opened her eyes,” all she could see was a vast, boundless expanse of shallow water, faintly gleaming with a silver sheen, stretching to the horizon.
The water’s surface was eerily still—no ripples, no sound—reflecting a blank, empty sky.
The water was warm, like a stream warmed by the afternoon sun in spring.
But it was so shallow that it barely covered her ankles.
This was her mental world.
“Just as I thought.”
Shen Wu’s voice came from behind her, disconcertingly close.
Jiang Nuan turned around.
Shen Wu stood less than a step away, his pupils catching the light from the silver water and gleaming with a faint, gilded hue.
He looked down at the warm water beneath his feet, an appraising expression on his face.
“Warm, soft, defenseless.”
He crouched, his long fingers brushing the water’s surface, sending a tiny, delicate ripple outward.
“A perfect SSS-grade purification-type mental domain—and a perfect target.”
Jiang Nuan watched the ripple spread in all directions, feeling a pang of embarrassment at being so thoroughly seen through.
“That’s why I came to you to teach me, isn’t it?”
Shen Wu didn’t respond to that.
He stood up, flicked a droplet of water from his fingertip, and let his gaze sweep across this wide, almost desolate mental domain.
When he spoke again, his voice produced a strange resonance in this boundless space.
“Mental defense isn’t about building hard barriers.
No matter how thick the wall, it can still be breached. True defense means learning to distinguish.
To tell what’s yours from what’s an intrusion.
And to do that, you must first become familiar with every inch of your own mental domain.”
He turned to face her.
“Now, focus. Feel the sensation under your feet.”
Jiang Nuan lowered her gaze as instructed and concentrated on her feet. The silver shallow water lapped at her bare ankles, warm and peaceful.
“I can feel it.”
“Good.”
The instant he spoke, an invisible force surged from every direction simultaneously, wrapping itself around her.
Then, in a way she could not resist, it seeped into every crevice of her mental domain.
Countless golden threads—gentle yet inescapable—passed through the water, slowly climbing upward along the contours of her consciousness.
The sensation was all too real.
There was no physical touch—after all, the mind had neither substance nor form.
Yet her senses were magnified tenfold. Wherever the golden threads brushed past, they left a trail of burning heat, spreading further and further.
“Mmm…”
Her body trembled uncontrollably in the real world.
“This is what invasion feels like.”
Shen Wu’s voice fell from above her, deep and steady, as if he were just conducting an ordinary lesson.
“What you need to do now is find the things that don’t belong to you. Then push them out.”
Easy for him to say.
Jiang Nuan tried to concentrate and push the golden threads away. But the more she focused, the more acute her senses became. The threads lingered and roamed across the surface of her spirit, and her breathing grew uneven.
“Don’t get distracted.”
Shen Wu’s voice was closer now, so close it seemed to whisper right next to her ear.
“Concentrate. Feel the difference between them and your own mental energy.”
The difference…
Jiang Nuan bit her lower lip hard, forcing her mind to pull away from the spine-tingling sensations.
Her mental energy was gentle, like the shallow water around her, completely non-aggressive.
Shen Wu’s, on the other hand, carried a sharp, appraising quality, slipping along the outer surface, teasing and elusive.
She began to attempt pushing him out.
A cluster of silvery light surged from the core of her spirit, clumsy and tentative, as she tried to envelop one of the golden threads.
The instant her light touched it, the thread paused, however briefly.
“Yes. Just like that.” A subtle change crept into Shen Wu’s tone, laced with something else, something more. “Keep going.”
Encouraged, Jiang Nuan let more silvery light surge outward.
But she hadn’t yet mastered controlling the release of her mental energy. Like someone just learning to walk, she collided with everything around her haphazardly.
Not only did she fail to push the invader out, but the massive outflow of her own energy left her defenses even more fragile.
The golden threads seized the opportunity, slipping deep inside before she could brace herself.
One of the golden mental tendrils reached directly toward the core of her spirit.
“—!”
Everything vanished.
For a split second, she thought she would be completely swallowed by that sea of gold.
But the tendril quickly withdrew, dissolving back into threads, and then entirely retreated.
Her breathing slowed from quick, gasping pants to a steadier rhythm, as her consciousness began to coalesce once more.
“To make it this far…” Shen Wu’s voice came from very nearby, his tone returned to normal, though his pace was slightly slower than before. “...isn’t half bad.”
In the mental world, Jiang Nuan lowered her head, gasping for air, as if drained of all strength.
What she did not notice was this:
In the moment her concentration had shattered most completely, Shen Wu hid a tiny mark inside the deepest part of her spirit core—a golden, vertical eye.
So small, buried at the very bottom of that warm water, hardly detectable unless one searched with extraordinary care.
From that moment on, no matter where or when, every fluctuation and every disturbance within Jiang Nuan’s mental domain would never escape his awareness.
This was his protection.
And also, his silent declaration of territory.
Shen Wu withdrew the fingers he had pressed against her forehead, and his mental energy retreated like an ebbing tide.
In the medical room.
Jiang Nuan’s eyes snapped open. She gasped for air.
She felt as though she had been fished out of real water. The back of her shirt was soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to her skin.
Her breathing refused to calm down.
What she had just experienced was far too intense.
Though there had been no real physical contact, being touched from deep within the soul left a force far greater than anything on the material level.
Shen Wu sat in his chair, lowering his gaze. Once again, he sensed the tiny mark at the bottom of that warm water.
Then, he withdrew his awareness and leaned back into the chair.
In the shadows, he gently curled his long, elegant fingertips.
As if the soft touch of that warm water still lingered against them, filling him with an unshakable craving.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.
“Your mental domain now has the most basic ability to detect invasion. At least nothing will barge in from outside as easily anymore.
The rest depends on your own practice.”
Jiang Nuan nodded but hadn’t yet opened her mouth to reply when—
“Slap.”
The door to the medical room swung open.
There was no knock.
The handle was pressed down sharply, with no hesitation at all.
A tall figure appeared in the doorway.
Lu Shiyan.
He wore a clean black combat uniform, each button fastened tightly, every detail precise—yet he could not mask the bloody, predatory aura of someone who had lived a life on the edge of life and death for years.
Jiang Nuan’s heart clenched the moment she saw him.
Because she noticed his eyes.
Those deep eyes, which always seemed to be calmly calculating everything, were now seething with something barely contained—something that sent chills down the spine.
Lu Shiyan was not only a spatial ability user—he also possessed top-tier psychic perception.
He couldn't be wrong. The faint traces of psychic energy lingering in the room belonged unmistakably to Shen Wu.
His gaze swept slowly over Jiang Nuan's flushed cheeks, the strands of hair plastered messily against her neck, and finally came to rest on Shen Wu.
Shen Wu met his eyes with a calm expression, even with a hint of innocence.
"Captain, your timing is perfect."
"It seems like you think your leave is too relaxing, like you have nothing to do."
Lu Shiyan walked in. The sound of his boots hitting the floor was dull and heavy.
"Have you finished the restricted-zone report?" He stopped by the bed and looked down at Shen Wu from above.
Shen Wu raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it due in a week?"
"The deadline's moved up." Lu Shiyan's face was expressionless. "Submit it by tomorrow morning. You can go work on it now."
Shen Wu was silent for a second.
"Fine," he said, standing up and brushing off his clothes. "You're the captain. You call the shots."
At the door, he glanced back at Jiang Nuan.
"Remember what I taught you. Keep practicing."
The door closed again.
Jiang Nuan and Lu Shiyan were now the only two left in the room.
It was as if the air itself had frozen solid.
Jiang Nuan instinctively tensed up.
Ever since she had been brought to Zero Squad's base, she had always been terrified of this man. Because every word that came out of his mouth presented only two options: "Execute immediately" or "Carry it out right now."
"Are you fully recovered?" Lu Shiyan turned to Jiang Nuan. His tall frame completely blocked the overhead light, casting her entirely in his shadow.
Jiang Nuan felt an inexplicable guilt—even though she hadn't done anything wrong—making the hairs on her body stand on end.
"More or less..."
"Good."
He reached out.
A hand sheathed in a black tactical glove seized her wrist, which had been lying outside the blanket.
Jiang Nuan flinched hard, but didn't dare to struggle.
Through the fabric, she could feel the oppressive pressure of his fingertips pressed against her skin, registering her racing heartbeat born of anxiety.
"I have a few questions for you."
Lu Shiyan's tone was the same as when he issued combat orders: beyond doubt, beyond debate, beyond refusal.
"Come with me."
The corridor stretched far.
Deep in the night, only half of the base's lights were on, casting long, ghastly white shadows across the metal walls.
Jiang Nuan, wearing slippers, stumbled along beside him, her wrist still in his grip.
His hold was tight, squeezing hard enough to make her wrist ache.
In the suffocating silence, Jiang Nuan's mind raced for a few seconds, calculating her options—before she finally gave up on any thought of escaping.
She couldn't break free; she had learned that from experience.
The security door slid open without a sound after the iris scan. Lu Shiyan stepped aside to clear the doorway.
"In."
Still no room for negotiation, no room for refusal.
Jiang Nuan took a deep breath, clenched her teeth, and stepped inside.
Behind her, the metallic sound of the door closing was depressingly dull.
And then—
Click.
The locking of the electronic door latch, amplified in the quiet, sealed-off office, cut off every path of retreat.
