That night, Xiaohuo barely slept. The mysterious spirit holder's warning echoed endlessly in his mind, a chill wind that swept through his thoughts. Outside his window, moonlight fractured across the city by neon signs, casting restless patterns that mirrored his unease.
He dragged himself downstairs in the morning, feeling hollow and unrested. His parents bustled around the kitchen, absorbed in their routine, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging inside him. The familiar smells and sounds of the restaurant should have been comforting, but to Xiaohuo, everything felt muted, as if a gray veil had fallen over his world.
As he helped with the morning prep, his mind kept circling back to the message he'd received in the alleyway: "Every use of the power chips away at your soul…" The words throbbed in his head like a curse.
Lunch hour brought no respite. Su Wan'er came in as usual, her gentle smile now tinged with a new, anxious dependence. Xiaohuo, struggling to heed the warnings, kept his responses curt and his distance deliberate. He hoped this might lessen the spirits' hold—but the effect was the opposite. Su Wan'er's mood visibly deteriorated. Her eyes, once bright, were clouded with confusion and insecurity.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Caught off guard, Xiaohuo hesitated. He'd intended to loosen the spirits' grip, but instead, Su Wan'er seemed to be crumbling. Her hands shook as she worked, and her complexion paled.
"Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" Xiaohuo asked, concern breaking through his reserve.
She shook her head, tears welling up. "I just… I feel like I'm nothing if you don't need me."
The words pierced Xiaohuo's heart. The self-doubt and dependency in her voice went beyond normal affection—it was the backlash, manifesting as emotional instability. The spirits' influence wasn't just affecting him; it was beginning to harm those closest to him.
Later that afternoon, Li Qing visited. She, too, seemed off-balance—her gaze distant, her words seeking Xiaohuo's approval with every sentence. The two people most affected by the spirits were now teetering on the edge of breakdown, their well-being tied precariously to Xiaohuo's own emotional state.
He began to understand: the backlash was not a punishment visited solely upon him. It was a destructive force that rebounded from those under the spirits' sway, threatening to unravel them both. Back in his room, Xiaohuo turned the black box over in trembling hands, his mind a tangle of fear and guilt.
Was he already losing control? The subtle sense of power he'd once felt now seemed to be crushing him beneath its weight. He tried desperately to recall the words of warning: "Stay self-aware. Don't indulge. Don't abuse it."
"But… can I really control any of this?" he whispered to himself.
Lost in despair, Xiaohuo was jolted by a sudden message in a WeChat group for Chinese students in Melbourne. A girl posted about feeling increasingly detached and mentally unstable, even hinting at self-harm. Xiaohuo's heart seized with dread. Instinctively, he suspected the incident was related to the spirits' influence—perhaps even the doing of another spirit holder.
The crisis now stretched beyond himself. Xiaohuo realized that if he kept running from the truth, not only would he lose himself, but innocent people might also get hurt.
As darkness fell, Xiaohuo finally made a decision. He needed to seek out the mysterious spirit holder again. He needed to learn how to truly master—and perhaps resist—the spirits' backlash. The road ahead would be hard, but if he didn't start walking it, he knew he'd be lost forever in this spiraling darkness.
Dusk settled over Melbourne, painting the city in shades of violet and blue. Xiaohuo sat in his room, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The distress signals from Su Wan'er, Li Qing, and the anonymous student from the WeChat group had shaken him deeply. The backlash was no longer theoretical; it was here, tangible and dangerous.
Unable to sleep, Xiaohuo found himself pacing the floor. The words "backlash" and "self-destruction" circled his mind like vultures. He knew he couldn't face this alone. With trembling fingers, he sent a message to the mysterious spirit holder:
"I'm facing serious problems. Can you help me?"
The reply came swiftly:
"3 p.m. tomorrow. RMIT University Library, back entrance."
The next day, Xiaohuo arrived at the appointed time. The university campus buzzed with students, but the area by the library's back door was quieter, almost secluded. Waiting there was the man he'd met before—and beside him, a tall, blond young man whose sharp blue eyes watched Xiaohuo with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
"This is Alex," the spirit holder introduced. "He's part of our circle."
Alex nodded, his English crisp and confident. "I've heard about you. You're not the only one dealing with backlash. There are more of us in Melbourne than you'd expect."
Relief and anxiety mingled in Xiaohuo's chest. He quickly described what was happening to Su Wan'er, Li Qing, and the girl from the group chat. Alex listened intently, his brow furrowing.
"I've seen this before," Alex said. "When I first awakened, my friends suffered the same way. The backlash can break people—emotionally, even physically. You have to learn to disrupt and weaken your emotional link to those affected. If you don't, the consequences can be severe."
"But how?" Xiaohuo's voice quivered. "I can't seem to control the spirits' influence completely."
The older spirit holder regarded him steadily. "The first step is self-isolation. When you sense a deepening emotional connection, distance yourself—physically and emotionally. Second, redirect your energy: exercise, study, engage with people untouched by the spirits. Third, and most important—find your true desires, and don't let the spirits dictate what you want."
Alex offered more practical advice. "There's a veteran in our group—her name is Sophie, from France. She's skilled in meditation and self-regulation. I can introduce you."
Those words brought Xiaohuo a glimmer of hope. He exchanged contact details with Alex and made a note of Sophie's name. The three agreed to keep in touch and support one another in the struggle.
Before they parted, the older man spoke with solemn urgency. "The spirits' backlash never truly disappears. You can only learn to coexist with it. Remember—true strength comes from within. Only a strong mind can wield this power without being destroyed by it."
As Xiaohuo returned home, he resolved to act immediately. He began to keep his distance from Su Wan'er and Li Qing, and helped the troubled girl from the WeChat group connect with counseling resources. He threw himself into exercise, reading, and activities that distracted him from the spirits' pull.
The whispers of the spirits still echoed in his mind, seductive and insistent, but for the first time, Xiaohuo felt a spark of resistance. He realized that with effort and support, this battle wasn't entirely hopeless.
Staring out at the city lights that night, Xiaohuo made a silent vow: he would grow stronger—not just for himself, but for everyone ensnared by the spirits' power. The path ahead was uncertain and fraught with peril, but he was ready to face it, driven by a newfound sense of purpose and the knowledge that he was not alone.