Black Magic Rose Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Warmth of Fingertips

After the whispered words under the moonlight, Shu Yijin could clearly feel a higher degree of compatibility with this body, as if some invisible barrier had dissolved slightly with the “candidness” of that night. Simultaneously, his perception of the Seal within Wen Jingheng became much sharper. It was no longer just a vague resonance, but a more concrete, layered depiction of energy flow, faintly visible in the “sight” of his consciousness.

Like a patient hunter who, after repeatedly observing and testing the habits of his prey, finally finds the perfect trap location and trigger method, Shu Yijin decided to proceed to the next step: a more direct, and more intimate, probing contact.

The opportunity arose one afternoon. A drizzling rain fell outside the window, tapping against the glass with a dull, continuous sound. The room was darker than usual, and the glow of the bedside lamp seemed especially warm, yet it failed to illuminate the deep shadows in the corners.

Shu Yijin had just finished Wen Jingheng’s routine physical massage. This was a “project” he had recently added, ostensibly to promote blood circulation and prevent muscle atrophy. The Wen Family doctors were noncommittal about it, perhaps thinking such a harmless action was innocuous, or perhaps simply not caring. This, conveniently, gave Shu Yijin a legitimate reason for prolonged, large-area skin contact.

When the massage ended, Shu Yijin did not immediately get up to wash his hands as he usually did. He sat in the armchair by the bed, slightly panting (feigned, of course), his gaze fixed on Wen Jingheng’s hand—bony, distinct, and somewhat pale from long-term lack of sunlight.

That hand rested quietly on the dark bedsheet, fingers naturally slightly curved, like a stark piece of art.

Shu Yijin looked at the hand, his face appropriately showing a trace of hesitation, a hint of shyness, and a glimmer of… resolve, as if steeling his courage. He lightly bit his lip, a subtle movement that made him look particularly endearing.

“Jingheng…” he called softly, his voice carrying an imperceptible tremor, as if afraid of rejection, yet full of anticipation. “I… I heard that people in a coma might still be able to feel external contact… especially contact from close people…”

He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts, or perhaps bracing himself.

“I don’t know if you can feel it… but…” He slowly extended his own hand, moving as gently as if afraid of startling a butterfly, approaching Wen Jingheng’s hand resting on the sheet.

His fingers were slender and fair, a stark contrast to Wen Jingheng’s larger, more powerful-looking hand. His fingertips paused slightly just before touching the back of the other man’s hand, even retracting almost imperceptibly, perfectly portraying an image of inner struggle and nervous shyness.

Finally, as if having made up his mind, his fingertips lightly descended, first touching the skin on the back of Wen Jingheng’s hand. The contact between the cool fingertips and the warm skin caused both of them to “tremble” almost imperceptibly—Shu Yijin’s was a pretense, while Wen Jingheng’s was a genuine fluctuation deep within his consciousness.

Then, Shu Yijin’s movements became resolute. He carefully, with an almost reverent air, threaded his fingers, one by one, into the gaps between Wen Jingheng’s fingers.

Fingers intertwined.

An extremely intimate posture, signifying reliance and trust.

The moment the two hands fully clasped—

Boom!

An energy fluctuation, a hundred times stronger and clearer than any previous contact, erupted from their clasped hands like a bursting dam, surging up the arm and violently slamming into the Seal deep within Shu Yijin’s soul!

It wasn’t just loosening; it was a violent tremor!

The Evil God Essence within Shu Yijin, which had been dormant for countless years and was wrapped in layers of golden chains, let out a nearly joyous hum at this moment! The chains binding it creaked under the strain. Although they were far from breaking, the unmistakable sensation of loosening made Shu Yijin almost unable to suppress the urge to smile.

Success! Intimate contact, especially contact carrying strong emotional suggestion (even if feigned), was indeed the key! The effect far surpassed simple wiping and massage!

At the same time, a gentle yet pure warm current flowed slowly from Wen Jingheng’s body, through their clasped hands, and into Shu Yijin’s fingertips. That warm current carried a reassuring, even somewhat Holy Energy, completely different from Shu Yijin’s own cold, chaotic essence. Was this Wen Jingheng’s Holy Energy? A reverse nourishment triggered by contact with him, the “Evil God,” while in an unconscious state?

Shu Yijin frowned slightly. The influx of this energy made him feel a little… uncomfortable, like a cold body being forcibly injected with warm water. But at this moment, compared to the ecstasy of the Seal violently loosening, this slight discomfort was negligible. He could even feel that wherever this warm current flowed, the vitality of this human body seemed to increase by a fraction.

Meanwhile, in the depths of endless darkness, Wen Jingheng’s consciousness experienced a world-shattering shock.

The instant Shu Yijin’s cool fingertips touched the back of his hand, the sensation was no longer a vague ripple, but a clear bolt of lightning splitting the thick darkness! This was immediately followed by the clearer, tangible feeling of fingers intertwining! He could “feel” the slenderness and coolness of Shu Yijin’s fingers, and the force that seemed gentle yet brooked no refusal.

Then came that indescribable, surging “warm current.”

It wasn’t physical heat, but a… power of life? A vitality that had been dormant for too long, almost forgotten, rushed madly into his cold, stiff limbs and bones from their clasped hands, like withered wood meeting spring! The sensation was so intense, so real, that his stagnant sea of consciousness was whipped into a raging storm!

He could “see” light! Not the vague auditory coordinates from before, but genuine, warm light, starting from the point of their clasped hands, beginning to dispel the eternal darkness in his world!

He could “hear” Shu Yijin’s breathing more clearly, “feel” the rhythm of the raindrops hitting the window, and even vaguely “perceive” the outlines of objects in the room!

More importantly, he felt the invisible shackles that had been confining him and preventing him from moving emit a clear, cracking sound!

Move! Respond to him!

This thought, like the fiercest flame, instantly consumed all of Wen Jingheng’s will! He used all the strength of his recovery, all the desire that boiled from this tight grip, to frantically assault the crumbling barrier!

Shu Yijin was immersed in the joy of the Seal loosening when suddenly, he felt a faint but unmistakably clear, active force coming from the hand he was holding!

Wen Jingheng’s fingers, no longer an unconscious spasm, genuinely curved inward, tightly gripping his fingers in return!

Although the pressure was very light, as light as a feather brushing past, the meaning of that “initiative” was undeniable!

The smile that was about to form on Shu Yijin’s lips instantly froze. A flash of genuine shock, and even a hint of… unprepared panic, crossed his crimson eyes.

He woke up?

No, that wasn’t right. Wen Jingheng’s body still lay peacefully, his breathing steady, with no sign of his eyelids fluttering. The return grip of that hand was more like an instinctive reaction from a deep layer of consciousness, a desperate response from a soul that had captured the only light in the darkness.

But even an unconscious response was enough to make Shu Yijin’s heart skip a beat.

He subconsciously wanted to withdraw his hand. The sudden, active touch from his “mortal enemy” made him feel a strange threat and… discomfort. It was as if a chess game he had completely controlled suddenly had a piece move on its own.

However, just as he exerted slight force on his fingertips, he felt a nearly desperate attachment and… retention conveyed through Wen Jingheng’s weak return grip.

As if letting go would extinguish the light that had just appeared.

Shu Yijin’s movement halted.

He looked down at their tightly clasped hands. His hand was fair and slender, as if easily broken; Wen Jingheng’s hand was larger and bony, still showing the power it once held, even in its current weakness. At this moment, these two hands, which should have belonged to archenemies, were intertwined in an extremely intimate posture.

Cold calculation and a sudden, unfamiliar emotional stir intertwined within Shu Yijin.

He remained silent for a moment, and finally, did not withdraw his hand. Instead, he adjusted his posture to make the clasp more comfortable. He leaned back against the chair, his gaze fixed on the continuous rain outside the window, allowing his hand to be tightly held by Wen Jingheng’s (consciousness).

“The rain seems to be getting heavier…” he said softly, his tone returning to its usual gentleness, but with less deliberate effort and a hint of indescribable complexity. “But holding hands like this… it doesn’t feel so cold anymore.”

He didn’t know who he was speaking to. Perhaps, he was just speaking to himself.

In the room, only the sound of the rain, the instruments, and the silent, contradictory warmth flowing between their clasped hands remained.