The air in the main house had grown taut with an invisible tension since the psychic shock on the training grounds. Selene could feel the weight of Lysander's gaze upon her more than ever—a mix of his usual assessment now layered with a persistent wariness and deep scrutiny. He still personally oversaw her energy training, but each session was conducted with heightened caution. His powerful Alpha energy formed an impervious cage around her, shielding her from the threat lurking in her subconscious, but also isolating her, to some degree, from the natural flow of energy around her.
This feeling of being meticulously "protected" was suffocating. She knew it was necessary; Mo Yuan's will was a venomous serpent in wait, its next strike unpredictable. Yet, she craved strength, yearned for the power to control her own destiny, not to live perpetually under his wing—or rather, his confinement.
Her physical training progressed steadily under Lucian's impartial supervision. Her endurance, strength, and reflexes improved visibly. Though the process remained one of sweat and soreness, it was no longer the utter humiliation of the first days. This physical resilience seemed, in turn, to nourish her mental fortitude, making the guidance of her Pure Yin Energy feel marginally smoother.
One afternoon, after her energy session concluded, Selene didn't immediately return to her room. Summoning her courage, she called out to Lysander as he turned to leave the training ground.
"Mr. Thorne."
He paused, turning back. The black training gear accentuated his tall frame, his expression questioning.
"About Mo Yuan's will…" Selene chose her words carefully, her clear eyes meeting his. "Must we only defend? Is it possible… to actively expel it from my consciousness?"
This was a question she had pondered for days. Pure defense was not a sustainable strategy.
Lysander's dark pupils contracted slightly. He studied her, not answering immediately. The training ground was empty and quiet, save for the rustle of wind through the surrounding trees.
"Expel?" he repeated, his tone unreadable. "Do you know what that entails?"
He closed the distance between them, his powerful presence pressing in. "It means your mental strength must be sufficient to dive deep into your own sea of consciousness, locate and lock onto the root of that foreign will, and then purify or annihilate it with absolute force. The process is perilous. A single misstep, and it could be your consciousness that is erased."
His words were a cold, realistic douse of water. Selene's heart sank, but she didn't retreat. "If… if my power continues to grow, is there a possibility?"
Lysander watched her in silence for a long moment, his gaze sharp enough to flay her soul. "Yes," he finally uttered. But then he shifted. "But it requires time. And a catalyst. And until you are capable, any rash attempt is tantamount to suicide."
He raised his hand, his fingertip pointing toward the space between her brows without touching. She felt a probe of his scorching mental energy—a brief, precise contact, then gone.
"It's quiet now. Dormant. Adapting. Or… waiting," Lysander said, withdrawing his hand, his expression grave. "Dr. Lin's monitoring confirms this. It's absorbing your stray mental energy and Pure Yin Power, slowly recovering. Forcibly provoking it would only accelerate that process, potentially triggering a more violent backlash."
Selene paled. So, she wasn't just racing against time to improve herself; she was also nourishing a time bomb within her?
"Is there no other way?" she asked, unable to hide the faint tremor in her voice.
Lysander observed the complex light in her eyes—a blend of defiance, fear, and stubborn resolve. His own eyes darkened. He turned his back to her, looking out at the lush trees beyond the training field, his voice dropping. "There is a theoretical method."
Selene's spirits lifted.
"Find an 'Anchor' more powerful than Mo Yuan's will," Lysander stated. "A belief, or a connection, that allows you to stand firm in the depths of your consciousness, unshaken by any external force. When your spirit is tightly bound to your 'Anchor,' the corrosive effect of a foreign will is greatly diminished. It might even be gradually assimilated or rejected by your core consciousness."
"An Anchor?" Selene murmured, the concept feeling abstract.
"It can be an obsession, a person or thing you protect, a belief you hold unshakably true," Lysander explained. "For you, perhaps it's that orphanage. Or perhaps… the desire for freedom."
He did not mention himself. Selene, too, instinctively dismissed that possibility. The bond between them was far from being each other's "Anchor."
"I understand," Selene nodded, turning the idea over in her mind. The orphanage, freedom—these were the forces that had sustained her thus far. Perhaps she needed to deepen these convictions, weave them into every breath, every cycle of her energy.
"Until you find and solidify your 'Anchor'," Lysander turned back, his tone resuming its customary hardness, "focus on the fundamentals. Improve your strength. Don't aim beyond your reach. Starting tomorrow, you will attempt to channel and temporarily maintain your Pure Yin Energy on a physical object. It is the next step in energy control."
He issued the new directive and, without another word, turned and left the training ground.
Selene stood alone, digesting the conversation. Anchor… The concept took root in her heart like a seed. She needed to ponder what could truly be her unshakable, impervious "Anchor."
At dinner, Lysander was absent. Lucian informed her he had gone to the company to handle an urgent matter. Selene dined alone in the Moonstone Wing's sitting room, the silence feeling pronounced.
As Matron Wu served the dishes, she remarked casually, "You look much better than a few days ago, Madam. The training must be strenuous. The Master may seem severe, but he is genuinely concerned for you. He specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare herbal tonics to regulate your qi and blood."
Selene's hand, holding her chopsticks, stilled. She glanced at the bowl of soup emitting a faint medicinal aroma. Lysander's "concern" always arrived in this undeniable, near-imperial manner. She thanked Matron Wu quietly, her feelings complex.
That night, lying on the divan in the master bedroom, she didn't try to sleep immediately. Instead, she attempted to follow Lysander's advice and search for her "Anchor."
She closed her eyes, conjuring images of the warm, if worn, walls of Havenwood Orphanage, the children's innocent smiles, Matron Agnes's kind, weary eyes. These were things she would sacrifice everything to protect. A fierce, protective desire swelled within her. Guiding her Pure Yin Energy, she felt the flow become slightly more cohesive, more docile.
Then, she thought of freedom. Of walking unrestrained under the sun, without fear of exposure, of the internal threat, of having to rely on… anyone. The longing for a vast, open world stirred her spirit.
Yet, when she tried to fuse these two意念 as the cornerstone of her mental world, she felt a hitch, an insufficiency. As if something crucial was still missing.
In that moment of slight mental relaxation, a subtle, icy whisper, faint as a gnat's buzz, brushed the edge of her mind, full of temptation:
"Power… gain power faster… He cannot help you… Only I can give you… the power to destroy all chains…"
Mo Yuan! He was watching, exploiting her desires and anxieties to seduce her!
Selene's mind sharpened instantly. She fortified her mental defenses, her Pure Yin Energy washing through like cleansing moonlight, forcibly dispersing the whisper. Clarity returned, but a cold sweat dampened her back.
It was indeed waiting for an opportunity.
She took a deep breath, knowing the road ahead was long. Finding a truly unshakeable "Anchor" was no simple task.
The moonlight outside was hazy. She turned her head, looking toward the empty, large bed across the room. Lysander had not yet returned.
What role did this powerful, complex man play in her fate? Her cage? Her mentor? A temporary ally? Or… a potential part of her future "Anchor"?
The thought surfaced, and she forcefully suppressed it. It was too early to consider such things.
For now, the most important task was to grow stronger. To seize every faint glimmer that could make her powerful amidst the swirling undercurrents.
She closed her eyes again, no longer actively searching for the "Anchor," but instead sinking her entire focus into sensing and guiding the Pure Yin Energy within her. Like a devout apprentice, she honed the first, tender sprout of her own power.
The night was long, but she would press on.