Chenghai had been punched through concrete before.
He had been stabbed more times than he could count.
Shot nine times.
Thrown through a second story window during a bar fight that he still maintained wasn't technically his fault.
And yet, none of that compared to the tiny yellow crystal currently sitting in the center of his palm.
It didn't look dangerous.
And that was probably the worst part.
The core was barely bigger than his thumbnail, glowing softly beneath the living room lights while Rouxi sprawled across the couch nearby with a bag of chips balanced on her stomach like none of this was a big deal.
Meanwhile, Chenghai was becoming increasingly convinced he was about to die.
"Why does it feel warm?" Lingyun asked suspiciously from the other side of the sectional.
"Because it's fire energy," Rouxi replied around a mouthful of chips. "Did you expect it to feel refrigerated?"
"That wasn't the concerning part."
"Then be more specific."
