“What are you doing?”
Even at this point, you still pretend.
Tong Sui looked at his bright eyes that sparkled even in the dark, feeling an indescribable sense of dissonance within this unfamiliar shell.
“Wasn’t it you last night?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Is that so? Since you don’t understand, it must be that I’ve made a mistake.” Tong Sui feigned an attempt to stand, “You stay here; I’m going back ahead.”
As he just stood up a little, he was yanked back forcefully, and pushed down with great strength.
That force was immense, as if it wanted to merge him into its own blood.
“How much do you remember about last night?”
Tong Sui nervously swallowed.
The chaotic experience, like a dream, began to surface in clearer fragments and phrases in his memory.
He hurriedly interrupted his recollection, flustered, “I—I don’t really remember…”
He thought this clumsy excuse might allow him to avoid reality.
But he didn’t know that after the curtain was drawn, he had already fallen into a carefully woven net, enveloping him entirely.
The more he struggled, the tighter that net would bind him.
The heavy voice seemed to carry a hint of playfulness, “Your Highness doesn’t remember? Should I help you recall?”
Just listening to his voice made Tong Sui tense up.
He didn’t understand why he had begun as the one justified in accusing Bai Xingluo of evasion, only to find himself unwittingly in a passive position.
Before Tong Sui could sort this all out, his eyelashes suddenly twitched violently.
He looked incredulously at those deep-set eyes hidden within the darkness, lowering his voice out of fear.
“There are people outside…”
Bai Xingluo was really bold, wearing those servant clothes while daring to act in such an audacious manner.
How brazen.
“At this stage, are you still worried about what’s outside?”
His voice was low, and it seemed a little jealous.
Tong Sui could only explain quietly, “They might come in.”
As long as they drew near and lightly lifted that fluttering curtain, his embarrassing predicament would be laid bare.
The mere thought of this possibility made Tong Sui feel tense all over, gripping the rough fabric tightly with his fingers.
“Next time, can we change places?”
“They won’t dare to come in,” that voice was like a captivating incantation, with actions that continued non-stop alongside the words.
“Come on then, do you remember what happened last night?”
Tong Sui glanced in panic.
He realized one of his gloves had fallen off and lay forgotten on the floor.
The other hand was still wearing it diligently.
With just a glance, he turned his head, cheeks flushed, his eyes resembling the white mist rising in the morning woods.
“I remember.”
“Really? Your Highness, you can’t keep lying to me.”
Tong Sui was already fearful of being discovered and had to endure his deliberate teasing, and every breath he exhaled trembled.
“Really.”
“Then do you remember what I said?”
The voice was somewhat muffled under the hum of the ship’s engine.
Tong Sui struggled to recall, hesitantly replying, “You said you missed me, worried about me…”
As if rewarding him for uttering a portion of the correct answer, the servant respectfully offered a snippet of service.
“Uh-huh, and what else?”
“Also…”
Tong Sui seemed to remember something, his eyelashes fluttering again, “I—I don’t remember.”
“You still need a little more prompting,”
He leaned in and whispered something, causing Tong Sui’s face to almost turn red as he pushed him back.
“Remembered it; you—you can stop now.”
“But I haven’t finished,” he said, “How can you be sure of my identity? What if I’m not the one you’re looking for? You might end up at a loss.”
“It’s you.”
Tong Sui nestled against him, like a spoiled cat trying to pass off its pretty fur and face to get through.
“I remember your hand.”
“Only my hand? Seems I didn’t do well enough.”
Clearly, this spoiled act didn’t always work; for a starving wolf, what he really needed was sustenance.
“I’m ready; when will you fulfil your promise and come to me?”
Tong Sui felt as if he had been scalded by his words, cautiously retracting into his shell, furtively closing the door and self-deceivingly saying: I’m not home.
Tong Sui was the type that, the more he was forced, the more he would retreat, but when coaxed, he would become dazed, opening up his branches.
He lowered his voice and gently coaxed, “I misspoke, sorry, Great Monarch, could you look at me again?”
After several seconds, Tong Sui slowly raised his head, and the black feather-like material dampened slightly.
Before he could see clearly, he was kissed.
Bai Xingluo felt unsettled and confused, like kissing a completely unfamiliar person.
This sensation was too strange.
Even as Tong Sui felt dizzy from the kiss, he raised his fair fingers to cradle Bai Xingluo’s face, seeking a moment’s breath amid the rain-like kisses.
“Luo Luo, I want to see your face.”
“Does the Great Monarch not like this skin?”
It wasn’t about liking or disliking, it was just too foreign, too strange.
It had been too long since Tong Sui had truly seen Bai Xingluo; oh, last night didn’t count as he thought it was a dream.
At his request, Bai Xingluo lifted a thin layer of disguise from his face.
The strikingly cold and outstanding visage was exposed to the air, almost glowing, stunning Tong Sui into silence for several seconds.