The Challenge of the Brave

The witch once picked up a ray of light and returned it to the sun at dusk.

All that warmth.

All that beauty.

Faded away as the light departed.

The world turned gray, and the witch could no longer see any colors. In the loneliness that remained, she waited—waited for the next reunion, waited for the sun to awaken.

"...Mentor."

"...Forgive my rudeness."

Earth, Yanshan City.

In the silent depths of the night, Krisha stood on the corridor of the courtyard, gazing at the transparent, pristine glass before her, her expression calm and indifferent.

Outside, the stars shimmered brilliantly.

The cool evening breeze dispelled the day's lingering heat.

Soft whispers of wind carried the sweet fragrance of the flower beds and the faint moisture evaporating from the pond.

Krisha had a clear goal.

Her eyes—gold, black, and red intertwined—ignored the scenery of the courtyard and instead locked onto the wooden door of Xu Xi's room.

Embedded in the night, the door cast uneven slanted shadows under the rippling silver moonlight.

She grasped the doorknob.

Twisted it with force.

With silent steps, the witch pushed the door open and entered.

Before the sun had set, she had spent a long time pondering alone—what it truly meant to be brave, and what the true way of a demon was.

In the end,

Krisha arrived at this conclusion: [I don’t know].

The clumsy witch wasn’t good at overthinking.

She simply felt that she needed to do something—like taking a more active step closer to the "sun."

With the wedding approaching, such actions might seem meaningless.

Yet, in Krisha’s heart, there was an impulse pushing her forward, compelling her to commit this bold act of transgression.

"Click—"

The crisp sound of the door opening echoed through the quiet night.

Yes.

In the dead of night, Krisha had entered Xu Xi’s room without his permission.

"This isn’t a mistake..."

Despite the shame in her heart, the witch justified herself: "Right now, I’m not entering this room as [my master’s possession], but as his wife."

"So, my actions are perfectly reasonable."

Krisha gave a small nod.

She had convinced herself.

Then, she groped through the dark interior, her bare feet lightly stepping on the cold floor as she moved cautiously, nervously, and anxiously toward Xu Xi’s bedside.

"Mentor...?"

Krisha saw it—

The familiar face, breathing steadily in deep slumber.

The witch tilted her head slightly, blinking her eyes.

With even gentler movements, she lifted a corner of the blanket and tried to slip underneath, settling on the other side of the bed.

"Mustn’t wake the mentor."

She murmured the thought in her mind.

The room was dim, with only sparse traces of silver moonlight struggling past the curtains, casting faint reflections on Krisha’s silver-gray hair.

Xu Xi had already transcended.

Sleep or wakefulness made no difference to him.

But the witch didn’t want to disturb him too much—she only wanted to undertake this challenge of bravery alone.

"Good, I’m in."

The warmth of the blanket wrapped around her like a soft breeze, enveloping her limbs and making her instinctively sink into its comfort.

Yet this profound sense of security didn’t come from the blanket itself—it came from Xu Xi beside her.

Krisha lay still, letting the heat from the blanket seep into her, her fingers entwining with those of the man beside her as she stared up at the pitch-black ceiling.

Quietly.

Silently.

Relishing the privilege of a wife—

Sharing a bed with her husband.

But—

Krisha remained disciplined, not letting herself get lost in this warmth and forget her original goal.

"Mentor?" she called again, cautiously testing whether Xu Xi was truly asleep, lest her transgression be discovered.

Her heart pounded, filling her with nervousness.

Five, six seconds passed.

The room remained silent.

Reassured, Krisha became a shadow of light, inching closer to Xu Xi’s side.

"The mentor’s face..."

Her pale hands stretched out, fingers trembling slightly as she gently cupped Xu Xi’s cheeks beneath the blanket, turning his face toward her.

His eyes remained closed in slumber.

His expression was peaceful.

His lips held a healthy hue, unlike the pallor he had worn in the world of magic, where endless research and mental strain had drained him.

"..."

Her long silver-gray hair was trapped beneath her.

She stared blankly—

Gazing at Xu Xi’s sleeping face, listening to his steady breathing, lost in thought for a long, long time—until finally, a small smile curled at the corners of her lips.

"You haven’t changed at all, Mentor."

The girl hesitated, then began executing the ultimate plan of the night.

She held her beloved’s face more firmly.

Leaned in.

Clumsily.

Pressed her forehead to his, touched her nose to his, letting strands of silver-gray hair slip down onto his neck.

"Mentor..."

Krisha’s voice trembled slightly.

Though her tone remained as calm as ever—devoid of strong emotion—

It carried a lingering, enchanting resonance.

"I... I..."

Stammering, she mustered what little courage she had left and, as his wife, confessed:

"I. Love. You."

A weight lifted.

Those three short words drained the supreme sorceress of all her strength.

Her eyes, fragile yet bright, reflected Xu Xi’s face—and her own serene smile.

She felt—

Tonight, she had been brave.

At least braver than before.

But she couldn’t retreat yet. In her carefully considered plan, there was still one perfect finishing touch missing.

"..."

Squeezing out the last remnants of her courage, Krisha cupped Xu Xi’s face even tighter.

In the darkness, she leaned in closer.

The sensation was like touching a cloud—soft, delicate.

And it was at this moment that Krisha realized—

Opposite her, a pair of eyes had opened, blinking in confusion.

"Krisha, what are you—?"

Xu Xi tried to make sense of the situation.

"Mentor, I brought you a midnight snack."

Krisha responded swiftly, pulling out a cup of warm soy milk and a few steaming pastries from who-knows-where.

Then—

With impeccable politeness, she bid Xu Xi farewell.

Straightened her disheveled hair, smoothed the wrinkles in her clothes, curtsied gracefully, and—with inexplicable speed—left Xu Xi’s room, vanishing into the thick night.