The Kiss of Spiritual Bond: The CEO's Superpowered Bride

The auction hall lights focused on the display stand as Yan Shuyao sat in the third row, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the invitation. As the youngest antique appraiser at "Gujinzhai," this private auction was both an opportunity and a challenge. Discovering an undervalued treasure here would not only prove her expertise but also solve the antique shop's financial crisis. "Next up is Lot 37, a Tang Dynasty silver-gilt floral-patterned jade hairpin. Starting bid: 50,000 yuan." The host's voice made Yan Shuyao jerk her head up. The hairpin on the stand glowed with a warm luster under the lights, its head intricately carved with twisting vine patterns. Though slightly oxidized and darkened, it was overall well-preserved. A Tang Dynasty accessory in such condition should fetch at least 200,000 yuan on the market—this starting price was clearly too low. "55,000," she immediately raised her paddle. Several surrounding collectors joined the bidding, and the price quickly rose to 120,000. Yan Shuyao bit her lower lip—this was the maximum amount she could afford. Just as she prepared to make her final bid, a strange impulse made her lower her hand. "Going once at 120,000... going twice..." As the hammer was about to fall, Yan Shuyao suddenly stood: "May I examine it up close?" The host looked surprised but nodded. Yan Shuyao stepped onto the stage and carefully picked up the hairpin. The moment her fingertips touched the shaft, a faint electric current surged through her body, and countless fragmented images flashed before her eyes— A woman in Tang attire dressing before a mirror, inserting the hairpin into her cloud-like hair; amid raging war, the same woman stuffing the hairpin into a child's hand; in an underground chamber, the hairpin wrapped in layers of silk and buried in a clay pot... Yan Shuyao sucked in a cold breath, nearly dropping the hairpin. These images felt as real as personal experiences, yet they couldn't possibly be her memories. "Miss Yan?" the host asked with concern. "I... I bid 150,000," Yan Shuyao heard herself say, unaware this amount had exceeded her budget. The room fell silent. This sudden raise clearly intimidated other bidders. When the host announced the sale, Yan Shuyao felt like waking from a dream, her palms soaked in cold sweat. After paying the deposit, Yan Shuyao carefully placed the hairpin in a velvet box. By the time she left the auction house, night had fallen. The early summer breeze carried floral scents across her cheeks, but it couldn't calm the turmoil in her heart. Where had those images come from? Hallucinations? Or... "Miss Yan." A deep male voice came from behind. Yan Shuyao turned to see a tall man standing under a streetlamp. His well-tailored suit outlined broad shoulders and a narrow waist; his face was obscured by backlighting, but she could feel his tangible gaze. "Who are you?" She unconsciously took a half step back. The man stepped forward, and the light finally revealed his face—chiseled jawline, straight nose, and those unforgettable eyes that appeared an odd dark gold in the dim light. "Huo Linchuan," he offered a business card, "Huo Group." Yan Shuyao didn't take it: "What do you want, Mr. Huo?" Huo Linchuan retracted his hand, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smile: "I'm interested in the hairpin you just purchased. Will you part with it? I'll pay double." "Sorry, it's not for sale," Yan Shuyao refused firmly, turning to leave. "That hairpin isn't suitable for you," Huo Linchuan's voice suddenly chilled, "It will bring danger." Yan Shuyao stopped, her heart racing: "What do you mean?" Instead of answering, Huo Linchuan suddenly closed in, close enough for her to smell the faint cedar scent on him mixed with a hint of metallic blood. His slender fingers gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet those dark golden eyes. "You've already seen it, haven't you? Those memories that aren't yours." Yan Shuyao went rigid, her blood seeming to freeze. How did he know? "Let go of me!" She suddenly pushed Huo Linchuan away, but he backhand clasped her wrist. The moment their skin touched, a strange warmth spread from the contact point, and images flashed through Yan Shuyao's mind again—a dark room where Huo Linchuan curled up in pain, his entire body's blood vessels glowing a bizarre red... "You are also..." Huo Linchuan's pupils constricted, then he released her, "Interesting." Yan Shuyao stepped back, eyeing him warily: "Who exactly are you?" "I told you, Huo Linchuan," he adjusted his cuff, "And the one who will save your life in the future. Memorize my number. Call me when you can't control your ability." With that, he stuffed the business card into Yan Shuyao's coat pocket, turned, and left, his figure quickly blending into the night. Back in her apartment, Yan Shuyao locked the door and exhaled in relief. She took out the hairpin and placed it on the coffee table, debating whether to call the police about that strange man. But those images... If she told others she'd seen "memories," she'd probably be taken for a lunatic. "I must be too tired," she muttered to herself, deciding to take a hot bath to relax. As warm water cascaded over her body, Yan Shuyao closed her eyes, enjoying the momentary peace. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her chest and looked down to see the jade pendant she'd worn for years burning hot, its surface forming patterns similar to those on the auction hairpin. "This can't be..." She panicked, tearing off the pendant, only to see her reflection in the bathroom mirror—her entire body shrouded in a faint blue light, especially her eyes, which blazed like two deep blue flames. Yan Shuyao screamed and collapsed onto the wet tile. When she looked up again, the ** (anomaly) had vanished, but a tiny golden pattern had appeared on her wrist, shaped like the twisting vines on the hairpin. She trembled out of the tub, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and rushed back to the living room. The coffee table's hairpin was glowing faintly, and those patterns... were slowly squirming! Yan Shuyao's first instinct was to dial the number on the business card, but she stopped herself. Asking a stranger for help? Ridiculous. She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down, and cautiously approached the hairpin. When her fingertips touched the shaft again, the expected images didn't appear. Instead, a warm energy flowed up her arm and into her body. Surprisingly, this energy wasn't uncomfortable; it made her feel more awake and powerful than ever. Yan Shuyao tentatively picked up the TV remote and instantly knew its entire history from production to her purchase; touching the sofa, she saw the delivery man and previous tenant; even just staring at the oil painting on the wall, she could sense the artist's mood while creating... "Psychometry..." A strange word floated into her mind, as if someone had whispered it in her ear. Just then, the doorbell rang. Yan Shuyao jumped, nearly knocking over the coffee table. Peering through the peephole, she saw the apartment manager outside. "Miss Yan, a Mr. Huo says he's your friend and wants to come up. Should I let him in?" Yan Shuyao's heart skipped a beat. How had he found her here? After a moment's hesitation, she decided to face this enigmatic man: "Let him up." Five minutes later, Huo Linchuan stood in her living room. His gaze swept over the glowing hairpin and the golden pattern on Yan Shuyao's wrist, his expression turning extremely serious. "Faster than I expected," he murmured, suddenly reaching out to clasp the back of Yan Shuyao's neck, forcing her to meet his gaze. "What are you doing—" Yan Shuyao's protest cut off as Huo Linchuan's eyes completely turned gold, flowing like molten metal. Worse, she could feel something trying to invade her consciousness. Instinctively, Yan Shuyao concentrated and "pushed" back. Huo Linchuan grunted, released her, and took two steps back, a trickle of blood seeping from his nose. "Psychic medium..." He wiped the blood, his eyes complex, "No wonder the hairpin reacted to you." Yan Shuyao trembled, both from fear and the energy she'd released in that moment: "Explain this, or I'm calling the police!" Huo Linchuan sighed, suddenly unbuttoning his suit and tearing open his shirt collar. Yan Shuyao sucked in a breath—his muscled chest was covered in bizarre red patterns, squirming like living things. "I'm like you," he said in a low, husky voice, "chosen by a'spiritual artifact.' The difference is I've coexisted with mine for five years, while your integration is just beginning." Yan Shuyao stared at the patterns, somehow finding them familiar: "The hairpin is... a spiritual artifact?" "Ancient energy vessels that choose specific humans to bond with," Huo Linchuan adjusted his clothes. "They grant abilities but also bring danger. Especially rare psychics like you, who can read an object's memories and sense others' emotions... To certain organizations, you're a highly prized'tool'." Yan Shuyao thought of the auction images and the bathroom anomaly, forced to admit Huo Linchuan might be telling the truth. But one key question remained: "Why come to me? We don't know each other." Huo Linchuan's gaze lingered on her, then he smiled: "Because only you can help me." He took a step forward, close enough to share breath: "My ability is 'consumption.' It goes out of control every full moon, and I need a psychic medium to soothe it. I've been searching for a suitable partner for five years... until today, when I sensed the hairpin activating." Yan Shuyao's cheeks burned, not just from their proximity but from his implication: "What do you mean by 'soothe'?" "It doesn't have to be s****l," Huo Linchuan's voice dropped, his fingers brushing her wrist's golden pattern, causing a shiver, "But physical contact is indeed most effective." Yan Shuyao yanked her hand back, her heart thundering. This man was too dangerous, not just for his mysterious abilities but for the raw attraction he exuded, making her want to flee yet also draw closer. "I need time to think," she finally said. Huo Linchuan nodded, taking a small silver whistle from his inner pocket and placing it on the coffee table: "Blow this, and I'll come immediately, no matter where I am. The full moon is in three days. I hope to have your answer by then." He turned toward the door, then paused: "Oh, and don't try removing the gem from the hairpin unless you want to be transported to a moment in its memories." After the door closed, Yan Shuyao collapsed on the sofa, her mind in chaos. In just a few hours, her worldview had been completely overturned. But most disturbing was how, when Huo Linchuan approached, the new energy within her had surged with excitement, as if finding its resonance... She picked up the still-glowing hairpin and made a decision—tomorrow, she would investigate Huo Linchuan and these so-called "spiritual artifacts." But first, she needed to understand what was happening to her. What Yan Shuyao didn't know was that a black sedan now parked downstairs, two men in black inside watching her every move through binoculars. "Confirmed, it's definitely a psychic medium," one said into a headset. "Should we move now?" "Wait until she separates from Huo Linchuan," a cold voice ordered through the headset. "The Sect Master wants the psychic medium alive."