Mo Han's fingers lingered on the woman's wrist longer than necessary. Her pulse was steadier now, but still weak, and her dantian was flickering like a candle caught in the wind. His brows furrowed. If nothing was done soon, her core would collapse, and once a cultivator's dantian shattered, no amount of medicines could restore it.

"I need a cauldron," Mo Han said suddenly, his tone firm enough to silence the whispers around him. "And the ingredients for the Night Lotus Elixir. Without it, her dantian will deteriorate beyond repair."

Gasps erupted in the tent. The senior servant stiffened, her eyes wide. Master Li looked as though he'd swallowed his tongue. Even the guards exchanged uneasy looks.

"Night Lotus Elixir?" Master Li barked. "You dare claim you can brew something like that? Boy, even sect elders fail nine out of ten attempts—"

But before his words finished, the injured woman stirred. Her weak hand grasped Mo Han's wrist. Her eyes, clouded with pain, sharpened with sudden hope. "...my… cultivation… can it truly be saved?"

Mo Han met her gaze calmly. "Yes. But only if I brew it now, before the night ends. You forced your body with a forbidden fighting technique, didn't you? I can see it—the burning fractures in your meridians, the corrosion around your dantian. You traded your foundation for power in that battle."

Her eyes widened, the faintest tears glistening at the corners. She turned her head away, ashamed. "I… had no choice."

Mo Han's voice softened. "Fortunately for you, I know a method. If you trust me, you will not only recover, but return to your full form."

Her lips trembled. With effort, she turned her head back toward him. "Anything… anything you ask… I will give it. Just… save me."

Mo Han's gaze lingered, sharp with thought. Her identity is unusual. These guards would never be so silent for an ordinary noblewoman. They fear that if I knew her name, I'd refuse treatment… someone so high-ranking must carry deadly enemies.

But he did not voice his suspicions. He only nodded. "Then stay still. Don't waste any more breath."

Almost immediately, the tent flaps opened and a man stepped forward. Unlike the others, his presence was overwhelming, dark armor covering his body from neck to boots. A black helmet hung at his side, and his aura was thick like a storm cloud. His voice was low, urgent.

"Cauldron. Ingredients. At once."

The guards scrambled. Within minutes, a large bronze cauldron was carried in, its body inscribed with faint runes. Alongside it, trays of herbs and spiritual ingredients were brought forward.

Mo Han examined the collection with a sharp eye. Night Lotus petals, dried Phoenix grass, Lunar marrow, even the rare Golden Fire essence. He raised an eyebrow. "You brought everything?"

The black-armored man stepped closer, his tone grim. "I don't care what you need, boy. Just save her. If she falls… it won't be just her life lost. So work. Now."

Mo Han gave a slight bow of his head. "Then don't interrupt me."

He rolled up his sleeves and pressed his palms together. A flame burst into life between his hands—not wild, but steady, controlled, bright as molten gold. He lifted it and slipped it beneath the cauldron.

The old healer, Master Li, gawked openly. "H-He's controlling fire with bare hands… like it's part of him…"

Mo Han ignored the murmurs. With precise gestures, he began adding the ingredients one by one. First, the Phoenix grass, crushed and stirred until its essence turned the flame crimson. Then the Lunar marrow, which hissed like silver water when it touched the liquid. Each movement was practiced, exact—like a craftsman sculpting perfection.

The black-armored man's eyes narrowed. Such fire control… even seasoned alchemists would envy him. Who is this youth?

Time passed in silence except for the bubbling of the cauldron. Mo Han's focus never wavered. He guided his aura like threads through the mixture, weaving the essences together, cutting away impurities, shaping the medicine into its destined form.

At last, he lifted the Night Lotus petals and let them drift into the cauldron. The air changed instantly—the fragrance of spiritual dew filled the tent, soothing and intoxicating all at once.

The injured woman let out a soft gasp. "So… pure…"

Mo Han's hand moved faster now, channeling qi directly into the cauldron, molding the elixir's core. Finally, with a twist of his wrist, the mixture settled, glowing faintly blue.

He exhaled. "Done."

He dipped a ladle, poured the shimmering liquid into a jade bowl, and carried it carefully to her bedside. "Drink. Slowly."

Her trembling fingers accepted the bowl. She raised it to her lips, drinking in cautious sips. Each swallow sent ripples of color across her pale skin. Warmth spread through her, her meridians no longer screaming but humming faintly with life.

Her eyes fluttered shut as relief washed over her. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her lips, half-sigh, half-moan. "Ahhh…"

The guards stiffened. Some looked away in embarrassment. The senior servant clasped her hands tighter, biting back a grin.

Mo Han remained expressionless, though his palm rested gently on her back to guide the flow of the elixir. His aura slipped through her like waves, soothing the broken channels, easing the storm in her dantian.

The woman's body arched slightly under his touch, a cry breaking free despite her effort to stay silent. Her cheeks flushed crimson, her teeth bit her lower lip hard. But still, she whispered in a voice husky with surrender, "More… don't stop…"

Outside the tent, the black-armored man clenched his fists, his jaw tight. But he did not move. He knew better than to interrupt the healer who was saving her life.

Within the tent, the woman let go of her restraint. Each brush of his aura, each press of his fingertips, made her feel like her soul was being cradled in warmth. The pain that had chained her for days was gone, replaced by a surging tide of pleasure and relief.

By the time Mo Han withdrew his hand, her breathing was calm, her complexion radiant. She lay still, but her eyes were open, fixed on him with an intensity that startled even him.

Her lips parted. Her voice was soft but filled with conviction. "From this day… I swear… you will be mine. My personal healer. My savior."

Mo Han only straightened his robes, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. "Recover first. Vows mean little if you cannot live to keep them."

But the woman's heart had already decided. In the silence of her soul, she made her vow unshakable. Mo Han… no matter what it takes, I will bind you to me.

The flame of the cauldron sputtered out behind him, leaving only the scent of lotus in the air.

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