Chapter 861: The Psychic Master 25

“Of course! I’ve told you many times already—I never wanted to give you to another girl.” Tang Wan spoke with unusual seriousness, her gaze steady as it rested on him.

Hearing this, the last trace of tension in He Tongyang’s chest quietly dissolved. He had heard similar words from her before, but this time… the meaning was completely different. Before, it had been teasing, indulgent, almost casual. Now, it carried weight. It was clear, undeniable.

From this moment on, their relationship was no longer something vague or unspoken.

They were something more.

Just thinking of it made his heart feel light, almost as if it might lift off his chest entirely. For so long, he had been afraid—afraid that if she discovered what he truly felt, she would recoil, or worse, leave him. But now, those fears seemed distant, almost laughable.

“Wanwan… thank you for staying with me,” he said quietly, his tone sincere in a way he rarely showed.

Tang Wan waved her hand dismissively, her expression softening. “What’s there to thank? Tongtong is so good and so cute—of course I like being with you.”

Her words were simple, almost offhand, but they struck him more deeply than anything else. A faint warmth spread up his neck, and he looked away for a moment, suddenly unsure where to place his gaze.

After a brief pause, Tang Wan’s expression shifted again, becoming slightly more thoughtful. “But…” she added, “I still carry the memories of your He family’s ancestor. Don’t you mind that?”

She had always wondered about this. No matter how calm he appeared, she couldn’t completely read him. And this—this identity—should have mattered.

Yet his response came without hesitation.

“What’s there to mind?” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You may have her memories, but you’re not her. You’re you.”

He paused briefly, then added in a softer tone, “And besides… only you understand me. That matters more than anything else.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand instinctively. This time, instead of passing through her as before, his fingers met a faint resistance—a thin layer of cold, like mist that refused to disperse.

Tang Wan froze slightly at his words, then slowly lifted her own hand. Their fingers intertwined in midair, separated by that subtle, intangible barrier. It wasn’t real contact, and yet… it didn’t feel empty either.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

They simply looked at each other—and smiled.

The quiet was broken by a voice from outside the door.

“Young Master, Madam has returned.”

The shift in atmosphere was immediate. The softness in He Tongyang’s expression disappeared, replaced by a cold, distant indifference.

Tang Wan noticed at once. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly ruffled his hair. “Alright,” she said, her tone gentle but steady. “Today is your coming-of-age ceremony. Don’t let irrelevant people ruin your mood.”

The words were simple, but they landed exactly where they needed to.

The tension in his shoulders eased. He gave a small nod, the coldness in his expression fading as quickly as it had appeared. “Mm. Wanwan is right.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

Behind him, Tang Wan rolled her eyes slightly, then drifted forward in one smooth motion. The next instant, she hooked her arms loosely around his neck from behind, her weightless form leaning against him as if it belonged there.

He paused for just a fraction of a second.

Then, without turning, the corners of his lips curved upward.

By the time they reached the hall, most of the guests had already left. The earlier liveliness had faded, leaving behind only a quiet, strained atmosphere.

On the sofa sat a well-maintained woman with short hair, her posture elegant but her expression openly impatient. Across from her, Father He wore an equally unpleasant look. The distance between them was not just physical—it was something sharper, colder.

There was no warmth there. No familiarity.

If not for the family’s interference—if not for the way they had been forced together, even resorting to coercive methods—there would have been no connection between them at all.

The moment He Tongyang stepped into the room, the woman’s gaze snapped toward him.

The disgust in her eyes was unmistakable.

If it weren’t for the Wu family’s pressure, she would never have returned.

Not for this ceremony.

And certainly not for this place she had long since deemed filthy.