Way Too Much

The Rose Flame pillars had vanished.

They slipped into Mo Fan's body like obedient children, ready to follow their new father out into the wide world.

He set his foot down — a scorched crimson footprint blazed into the earth on contact. A wash of rose-red flame rippled over him like a cloak, and the bone-deep, sweetly agonizing rush of being utterly remade made Mo Fan want to throw his head back and howl at the sky like some freshly evolved Berserk Tyrant Dragon.

By the rocks, Tang Yue's breathing had gradually steadied. She opened her eyes — still carrying a trace of that hazy, unfocused warmth — and took in Mo Fan's unmistakable transformation.

A cold scoff escaped her. *This bastard really landed on his feet.*

Under any normal circumstances, she would never have given Mo Fan the Rose Flame. It should have been handed over to the state. But with that wretched compound flooding her system and running roughshod over her judgment, clear-headed decision-making had not exactly been available.

Still — bringing him along had not been a mistake. If Chao He had truly gotten what he wanted, the consequences would have been far more catastrophic. Breaking that particular seal would have cost far too much; she would sooner have considered self-immolation than paid that price.

"All of the relics are being confiscated," Tang Yue said coldly, watching Mo Fan glance around with the unmistakable expression of a man who has cleaned his plate and is already eyeing the soup bowl. "Don't even think about it."

"Of course, of course... Tang Yue — are you feeling all right, Teacher?" Mo Fan offered a dry laugh.

"I'm perfectly fine. Sorry to disappoint you." Every emotion Tang Yue felt was written plainly across her face.

The expression of a deeply wronged woman — as though she had done all the grueling work herself while Mo Fan lay there without lifting a finger and walked away with every benefit.

Mo Fan understood that Tang Yue, freshly dosed with *that*, was in no mood for games. He didn't press his luck. Like a cooperative student, he dutifully gathered the dead men's belongings and handed everything over.

Enchanted Gear was soul-bound by its nature. When a person died and their soul dispersed, the gear destroyed itself along with them — which meant there was unlikely to be much of value on any of the bodies.

Chao He's corpse, however, had yielded a strangely shaped ring. Tang Yue pocketed it without a word. Under normal circumstances, she'd have shifted automatically into teacher mode — explaining anything Mo Fan didn't understand was practically a reflex for her. But the frost-cold mask she wore now delivered her answer more clearly than words ever could: *She was not in the mood. Not today.*

They left the site quickly. Mo Fan and Tang Yue made their way back to the village.

Tang Yue was clearly still managing the aftereffects. She flagged down a taxi and had the driver take her into the city.

Settled into the back seat, Mo Fan closed his eyes and quietly savored the extraordinary sensation the Rose Flame had left humming through him. Yet at the very edge of his awareness, a faint fragrance drifted from the woman sitting beside him — rich and heady, unmistakably roses. Warm. Intimate in a way that was difficult to ignore.

"Spirit Flame permanently alters a Mage's constitution," Tang Yue said, her voice carrying its usual cool detachment as she broke the silence. Her teacher's instincts had apparently won the argument. "Going forward — unless you encounter a higher-tier fire source — any flame-based damage against you will be significantly reduced."

"Is that right?" Mo Fan couldn't hide his surprise. "I'd always assumed a Mage's body was just permanently fragile."

Substantial resistance to fire — that was the single greatest guarantee of survival out there. Against any other Fire Element Mage, he'd effectively be standing on unshakeable ground from this point forward.

*No wonder Spirit Grade fire sources cost a fortune. For anyone with the means, an upgrade like this is worth every coin.*

Mo Fan nodded, then recalled something from Chao He's earlier conversation with Tang Yue. "You were tracking him because of the Frenzy Spring — and because of the Bo City incident?"

"Yes." Tang Yue's gaze stayed fixed on the window. "Frenzy Spring is an extremely unusual compound. There's no legitimate way that quantity should have ended up in the Black Church's hands. We suspect an Apothecary — one willing to break the Mage's Covenant for profit — sold a top-tier prohibited substance to them. Chao He should have had information on the source. A shame he's dead. Hopefully something in that ring of his will give us a lead."

She wasn't quite meeting Mo Fan's eyes. Understandable — somewhere in the back of her mind, images she'd be horrified to acknowledge were still surfacing, remnants of what that compound had planted there against her will.

Mo Fan, for his part, didn't look away. He studied Tang Yue: cheeks still carrying an unmistakable flush she couldn't fully suppress, gaze carefully directed elsewhere.

He glanced down and noticed her slender hands were clenched tight around the edge of the seat cushion — white-knuckled, on the verge of tearing through the fabric.

And when her bright eyes did flicker in his direction, something restless moved behind them, barely contained.

"Tang Yue — are you really all right..." It wasn't a line. Mo Fan meant it.

Chao He had been the kind of predator whose danger level went without saying. The fact that Tang Yue — alone — had hunted and confronted him was testament enough. She wouldn't have let Mo Fan get involved unless there was absolutely no alternative.

And even when she'd finally moved against Chao He, she hadn't intended for Mo Fan to fight at all.

Chao He was too dangerous, too unpredictable. Mo Fan didn't have the combat experience or the survivability to hold his own. Her reluctance to involve him had been protection — quiet and unspoken, but unmistakable. Mo Fan saw it clearly. With something this humiliating now happening to her on top of everything else, the least he could do was set every wayward thought aside and be genuinely present.

He was still mid-sentence — the concern not quite past his lips — when he went completely still.

A pair of rose-red lips pressed against his.

Soft. Warm. And then a slow, deliberate sweep that slipped past every defense he had and lit him up from the inside — like tinder catching, sudden and total, burning through every last thought.

He'd spent so long sending lightning into enemies. Now Mo Fan felt as though he were the one who'd been struck — a rushing, electric current starting at the tip of his tongue, traveling all the way down through him, then flooding outward through every nerve in his body. A second awakening of an entirely different kind, waking things he hadn't known were dormant, blood surging with a will entirely its own.

Fragrant, impossibly soft — and carrying something unrestrained just beneath the surface — she had simply *crashed into him*. No warning. No hesitation. A shock complete enough to erase every other thought from existence.

*"Mmm~~ mmm~~~"*

A soft, breathless sound carried forward. The taxi driver — who had been listening with considerably more interest than was professionally warranted — instinctively glanced up at the rear-view mirror.

His mind went blank.

*Are these kids serious? I know young people get up to things in cars, but this is a* TAXI*! And if I'm remembering right, that kid was calling this gorgeous woman of his* Teacher — *Good lord... this... this is way too much—*

**CRACK.**

A bolt of purple electricity shot forward and obliterated the rear-view mirror, sending shards cascading down. The driver flinched so hard he nearly came off the seat, face draining of color.

"Turn around one more time," Mo Fan said, having finally gotten a breath, his voice quiet and completely serious, "and you won't live to regret it."

The driver did not turn around again. He kept his eyes welded to the road ahead, while behind him, soft and barely-stifled sounds continued drifting forward — and he quietly ceased to function as a coherent human being.