Chapter Nine: A Voice That Pierces the Heart

It was his aunt.

The face of this well-maintained housewife was etched with worry and fear, but the moment she saw Lu Mingfei awaken, all those sorrows vanished, replaced instantly by rage and an outburst of scolding.

“Nothing’s wrong, is it? If you’re fine, why make your classmate call us and drag us to the hospital to see you? Do you know how close I was to losing my hand at mahjong? Can’t you give us a break once in a while?!...”

Her shrill tirade came in relentless waves. Other patients in the hospital, disturbed from their rest, couldn’t help but glance over. They stared at this furious, abrasive woman, saying nothing for now, but their eyes were filled with disdain and disgust.

After all, this was a hospital—a place for patients to recover.

But his aunt didn’t care. She unleashed her anger, venting her fear and frustration. What she truly dreaded was not Lu Mingfei’s illness, but the loss of the money his parents sent her. If she genuinely cared for him, she would never have allowed him to live like this.

Lu Mingfei narrowed his eyes slightly, his fist tightening beneath the covers. Wild, dangerous thoughts flickered in his mind, and the image of a little devil flashed before him.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t feel anger.

No—I can’t be certain if saying those words would end up hurting me. For now, I must endure. I can still chat and live with Funina. If something goes wrong, even this brief glimmer will vanish, and I might end up hurting someone innocent.

A power whose danger was uncertain should be kept as a last resort, a hidden card to play in moments of crisis.

He slowly unclenched his fist, though his fingertips trembled.

“What…is that sound?”

In the next moment, Funina’s voice suddenly echoed in Lu Mingfei’s mind, her tone trembling as if she was genuinely worried about him.

“You can hear it?” Lu Mingfei’s fist clenched again.

“I can. Whose madwoman is that? Was she just shouting your name?”

Lu Mingfei fell silent, watching his aunt, still ranting uncontrollably even as hospital staff tried to restrain her. He began to wonder—why could Funina hear his aunt’s voice? He’d never noticed her reacting to anyone else’s voice before.

Why?

Could his aunt’s voice be his own inner thoughts?

No, it must be that her voice was so loud, so intense, that it pierced straight through his soul.

When someone is being yelled at, if the shouting is sharp and penetrating, it’s natural for that sound to dominate their inner world, sometimes even lingering in echoes. It’s an instinctive human reaction.

The last time his aunt berated him, Lu Mingfei’s heart was still basking in the warmth of his conversations with Funina. Deeper emotions occupied his heart, forging a stronger armor, so her voice couldn’t break through.

But this time was different. Lying in the hospital, recovering from an IV drip, Lu Mingfei had just woken up—his body and spirit were both fragile.

And his aunt, in his moment of weakness, unleashed her fury at him. Naturally, her voice could pierce right into his soul, allowing Funina to hear it as well.

So that’s how it is?

Realizing the cause, Lu Mingfei quickly focused his mind, suppressing the inner turmoil, and began thinking about how to regain his composure.

“Don’t hold it in!” Funina’s words interrupted his restraint.

“I’m here with you.”

Those three simple words instantly shattered the boy’s psychological defenses. Amidst the storm of scolding, her voice was like an umbrella over his head. Though it couldn’t stop the flood from rising, it gave him a long-lost sense of warmth.

Suddenly, he felt tears prickling at his eyes—a longing to let go, to cry without restraint. Yet this gentle, fragile boy never forgot Funina’s responsibilities. She still had to play the role of her own goddess of water.

She had important things to do—he couldn’t…

“It’s fine, really…”

“Aren’t we friends?!”

Her emphatic question instantly broke his train of thought.

Funina sighed and said, “You’re always like this—always trying to suppress yourself, always wanting to carry everything alone. Don’t you realize that your little secrets can’t fool anyone? Anyone who looks at you seriously knows exactly what’s on your mind. So tell me, what’s really going on?”

Can I really hide nothing from anyone?

Lu Mingfei gave a sudden, anxious smile. With a heart full of trepidation, he briefly recounted his current situation, finally forcing himself to say, “It’s nothing. I’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

He looked up at his aunt. Though his eyes were bloodshot, they shone with a certain light. Though he was about to humble himself and apologize, he walked this path with unwavering pride and determination.

He could be a warrior, too. He could dedicate his life and will to the things he believed in, no matter how hard or painful the journey.

After years lost in confusion, the young man had finally set foot on the fast track to growth.

Just as he was about to speak, to truly step onto this thorny road, Funina’s voice rang out again:

“Lu Mingfei, what are you doing?!”

“Did you think I couldn’t tell?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. You walk straight, you sit upright—why should you apologize? Just because she’s your aunt? What right does she have, what right at all?”

“Thank you…but…”

“No! Absolutely not! I don’t want… I don’t want you to live like this…” The girl’s voice, choked with tears, resonated even deeper within his soul.

The boy on the hospital bed, hooked up to his IV, didn’t answer. In that moment, his spirit and will were transformed. Funina’s words echoed in his mind.

He felt no anger now, no sadness, none of the earlier resolve—just a simple sense that…

The world was wonderfully serene.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. An invisible tear slipped down. Lu Mingfei experienced a spiritual metamorphosis, a transformation that was neither earth, water, fire, nor air, but something higher than all these elements.

All words of power depended on the mind, and the mind could blend with any element, creating new words of power, even elevating them.

Before, Lu Mingfei’s spirit was broken, so he could not wield any words of power. Now, with his soul transformed, he possessed unprecedented strength. His will seemed to extend beyond himself, able to touch the world itself.

This feeling—

Was indescribably exquisite!

The bedridden boy opened his eyes again, and his golden pupils blazed with brilliance. He gazed at his raging aunt—not as a victim, but as a sovereign lord regarding a rebellious subject. A silent aura of oppression spread out, and his aunt’s voice faltered unconsciously.

“Be quiet.”

He spoke with no expression, his voice soft yet commanding.

And from that moment, the world fell silent.