Several ways Su Xiaoyou could die

“So what you’re saying is… you spent the entire afternoon with another woman?”

The air in the room seemed to freeze over. Yang Yuan knew that any attempt to fully conceal the truth would only make things worse.

So he chose selective honesty.

“Y-yes… but it’s not exactly what you’re thinking.”

Gritting his teeth, Yang Yuan gave a rough account of how Li Yu’an had asked for his help to participate in an event, how he’d gone to repay a favor, and how they’d ended up winning a prize.

Of course, the part about pretending to be a couple—and the accidental forced kiss—was buried deep in his heart, never to see the light of day.

If Su Xiaoyou ever found out about those, the world might permanently lose a healing hero tomorrow.

After hearing Yang Yuan’s explanation, Su Xiaoyou’s expression didn’t soften.

“I can’t accept this!”

She bared her teeth in what was supposed to be a fierce, threatening look—her way of showing extreme displeasure.

Though she was clearly trying to appear scary, to Yang Yuan, she looked no different from a “hakimi” cat hissing online.

Honestly, even a little cute. But he absolutely didn’t dare laugh.

“This is karma,” Yang Yuan said, trying to calm the fluffed-up Su Xiaoyou.

“If it weren’t for her help at the trial center, I wouldn’t have even been able to see you.”

“But she spent the whole afternoon with you, Ah Yuan! That’s way too much!”

“I don’t care! I want it too!”

Su Xiaoyou started thrashing on the bed like a spoiled child. With no other option, Yang Yuan began gently stroking her head, smoothing down her ruffled fur.

“Once you’re discharged, you can have me all day. I’ll spend the entire day with you.”

His promise finally calmed Su Xiaoyou down, pulling her out of “hissing mode.”

“Fine… I’ll forgive you one last time.”

At this moment, Su Xiaoyou probably didn’t realize—forgiveness only comes zero times or infinite times.

Back to her normal self, Su Xiaoyou pulled out her phone and began searching for information about the Saintess.

When she saw online descriptions calling the Saintess “cold and distant,” “ascetic,” and “above worldly matters,” her expression turned odd.

“Come to think of it, I never expected someone like the Saintess to actually like magical girls.”

The stark contrast surprised her.

“Having hobbies is better than having none,” Yang Yuan said offhandedly.

“Otherwise, all that built-up stress has nowhere to go.”

“Just like how my hobby is you, Ah Yuan!”

Su Xiaoyou immediately chimed in, wearing a smug smile.

“Please pick a more normal hobby. Thanks.”

After narrowly avoiding a life-threatening situation, Yang Yuan decided it was time to stop hiding things. He wanted to exchange information with Su Xiaoyou.

The events of the past few days had been too overwhelming, too heavy.

Thankfully, there was someone he could trust completely. If he had to carry all these secrets alone, Yang Yuan knew he’d eventually break down.

He sat up straight, his expression turning serious.

“Alright, Xiaoyou, you sit properly too.”

“There are some heavy things I need to tell you.”

“Heavy?”

Her eyes lit up instantly, and that familiar, slightly unhinged look returned to her face.

“Ah Yuan… are you planning to be on top tonight?”

“Please stop driving… I’m begging you.”

Yang Yuan felt a throbbing pain in his temple. Ignoring Su Xiaoyou’s usual teasing, he took a deep breath and began recounting everything he’d experienced—the visions, the masked woman, the premonition.

He started with the dream of the cinema, then described the masked woman’s visit during Su Xiaoyou’s coma.

Finally, he told her about the cruel future: her dying in his arms.

Su Xiaoyou listened in silence, her smile fading slowly.

When Yang Yuan finished, she suddenly put on a look of exaggerated shock.

“Wait! Why would you dream of me dying in your arms?”

“Daytime thoughts, nighttime dreams—does that mean you secretly hope I die?!”

Such a ridiculous accusation made Yang Yuan curl his fingers and, just like always, give her a light tap on the forehead.

“I already said—it was a premonition. It was the masked woman’s ability.”

“Be serious. This isn’t a joke.”

“Hehe… just kidding. Lightening the mood a bit.”

Su Xiaoyou stuck out her tongue, but her eyes had turned completely serious.

The two leaned closer, analyzing why such a future could ever happen.

“We have to figure out exactly how that future came to be.”

Yang Yuan’s voice was firm. From the moment he decided to share this secret, he was no longer fighting alone.

“Based on what you said, when I died in the movie, my body was covered in black cracks…”

“So that means I must’ve overused my power again and got consumed by it.”

Su Xiaoyou used her little brain to piece things together.

“Exactly,” Yang Yuan nodded.

“So what caused you to overuse your power? What could it be?”

“Could it be…”

Su Xiaoyou’s eyes shimmered with a mix of sorrow and tragic beauty.

“I tried to protect Ah Yuan… fought an enemy too powerful for us to defeat… and that’s why…”

It was a theory straight out of a heroic tragedy—full of noble sacrifice.

Yang Yuan considered it. “It’s possible. If the enemy was too strong and you pushed yourself to protect me… it could’ve caused backlash.”

But something about it didn’t sit right with him.

Why would the masked woman, who called herself the Prophet, go to such lengths just to show him a cliché story about his childhood friend dying for him?

Yang Yuan remembered Su Xiaoyou’s first rampage at the orphanage. A darker, more terrifying possibility surfaced in his mind—one he didn’t want to face.

“Xiaoyou…”

Yang Yuan spoke with difficulty, his voice dry.

“In the dream, the way your body broke down… it looked exactly like the first time at the orphanage.”

“Is there… another possibility?”

Su Xiaoyou stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“What if… in the future, you lose control again?”

“And this time, it’s worse than ever. You’re not just trying to hurt one person—you want to hurt more, maybe even destroy something important.”

His voice grew softer, almost a whisper. He couldn’t bring himself to look into Su Xiaoyou’s eyes. The future felt too close.

“And then… to stop you… to save more people…”

“I… well, this story feels even more cliché.”

He couldn’t force out the cruelest word—the one that hung between them, unspoken.

But Su Xiaoyou understood.

Her confusion faded, replaced by a smile that was both sacred and disturbingly serene.

She reached out with her cold hand and gently caressed Yang Yuan’s face.

“If…”

“If the me in the future really does become a monster—so far gone that even Ah Yuan would fear me…”

She looked at him like he was a god, as if uttering the holiest vow.

“To die by your hands… to be ended by the one I love most…”

“For me… that might be… a kind of happiness.”