Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 88: Stockholm Syndrome

In the main chamber of Yan Wuhen’s manor, Rong Yue sat at one of the long tables. Wuhen occupied the steps leading up to the head throne, eyes closed, hands pressed together as waves of red-gold energy pulsed steadily through his body.

Qinghe sat at another table, Tu Lanyin leaning against her side. Her fingers moved absently through Lanyin’s white hair, a quiet, grounding gesture.

Whilst Ningyan stood near the doorway, his back against the wall, arms folded tight.

Thankfully, Wuhen had already explained everything he’d missed. And... Strangely, Rong Yue hadn’t asked where Ningyan had been taken by the portal. There were more urgent matters now.

"They summoned Wuhen to display their strength," Rong Yue said. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Qinghe’s expression darkened. "Everyone in the academy felt it. Their presence. Their power." She clenched her jaw. "They wanted witnesses. They wanted everyone to know what they’re dealing with."

"It’s reckless," Lanyin said quietly. "That kind of provocation won’t just start a conflict between the Divine Beast Kings. It’ll ignite a war between all beasts. The Abyss Serpent Clan, and serpents as a whole, will be targeted."

"I don’t think they care," Ningyan said.

The pieces fit too well now. Madam Qin Linhua must have known the serpents were preparing to seize control completely. That would explain her confidence in placing a bounty on his head and the access to a demon tool. If she had dealings with the Lans, everything made grim sense.

Knowing about the bounty changed everything.

Ningyan had decided to transfer the spirit mate chain to Lan Meishan. It was a risk, but it was the only way to cut Wuhen out of his life entirely. Wuhen was a Great Divine Beast Prince, his burdens were not Ningyan’s to share. Not anymore.

"They’re planning something," Rong Yue said suddenly.

A chill slid down Ningyan’s spine. He desperately wished that Meishan had told him what was coming tonight.

"We need to stay alert," Qinghe said. "Whatever they’re planning could happen at any moment." She exhaled slowly. "I’ll send a letter to my Father. You should do the same."

Rong Yue smiled faintly. "I already have."

Ningyan’s heart tightened in a way he couldn’t quite explain as his gaze drifted back to Wuhen.

He had been holding that posture for a long time now. Eyes closed, breath steady, fully focused on healing the damage from his battle with the Lans. Those twins were centuries old. Veterans. And now they were even more dangerous, cultivating both demon qi and beast qi without restraint.

Without saying a word, Ningyan turned and left the chamber.

He returned to the room he shared with Wuhen and stood there for a long moment, simply looking around. The decision had already been made. Whatever chaos was coming, Ningyan could only hope that everyone who had helped him survive the academy would remain safe.

He reached for his flute.

With his other hand, he summoned the small jar of the soul amplifier pills Yunyi had given him. Ningyan stared at it, took a slow breath... and dismissed it.

Not yet.

He sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes.

The melody that flowed from his flute was low and haunting, carried on a breath of emotion he didn’t try to suppress. White-gold energy unfurled with the music, wrapping around the instrument, then around his body like a gentle cocoon. He played for a long time until the sound faded and only the glow remained.

When he finally stopped, the energy still pulsed faintly around him.

Ningyan placed the flute on his lap, brought his hands together, and began to cultivate.

Hours later, a presence filled the space.

Ningyan’s eyes snapped open, glowing white-gold as the energy around him dimmed. Lanyin stood just inside the room, watching him with a soft smile.

"I’m sorry for interrupting," she said.

"No, no, it’s fine," Ningyan replied, rising to his feet. "I was just... finishing."

Before he could say more, Lanyin lifted her hand. A pale white glow spread outward, sealing the walls.

Ningyan froze. "What’s wrong?"

She sighed, pressing a hand to her chest, worry etched clearly across her face. "I wanted to ask you that."

Ningyan blinked. "What?"

"You look like someone preparing to sacrifice himself," she said quietly. "Like someone saying goodbye without words." Her gaze sharpened. "And I have a feeling I’m not wrong."

Despite himself, Ningyan smiled faintly. "You can tell just by looking at me?"

"You might not believe me," Lanyin replied, "but I was like you once. I thought I was going to die after being wounded in battle. So I chose to leave quietly, so Qinghe wouldn’t be the one holding my cold body."

"Oh." Ningyan forced a smile this time.

Then he nodded.

"Yes," he said softly. "I’m leaving."

"It’s understandable," Lanyin said.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she offered him a playful smile. One that felt a little forced. "At least your absence will make Wuhen focus."

Ningyan nodded slowly. "Yes."

"It’s been nice," she continued softly, "having you around. Getting to know you."

She stepped forward and hugged him. Ningyan accepted it, closing his eyes as her arms wrapped around him.

"A part of me thought you’d get used to the chain," Lanyin admitted quietly. "That you’d learn how to control it."

"I could stay and learn," Ningyan said honestly. "But I don’t want to."

She pulled back just enough to look at him.

"I don’t like the feeling of being trapped."

Lanyin smiled. This one gentler, more real. "Of course you don’t. You are meant to have wings. To fly."

Ningyan chuckled softly. "I am."

With a wave of her hand, the glow sealing the walls faded away. Then Lanyin left the chamber without another word.

Ningyan returned to cultivating for the remaining hours.

He tried to push Yunyi’s words from his mind. Tried to ignore Rong Yue’s advice. Tried to silence Lan Meishan’s words about leaving together.

But they echoed anyway.

Again and again and again.

Finally, he let out with a deep breath, hands resting on his lap as the white-gold glow around his body dimmed.

When he looked up, Wuhen was there. Lying on the bed. Asleep.

Ningyan stared longer than he meant to.

He wasn’t sure whether this was attachment, conditioning, or Stockholm syndrome, maybe. All he knew was that his chest felt tight at the thought of leaving.

Slowly, he rose and climbed onto the bed, sitting beside Wuhen’s head. He lifted a hand and gently brushed his fingers along Wuhen’s face, through strands of crimson hair.

It probably was Stockholm syndrome.

But that didn’t stop him.