Like a fledgling bird about to be abandoned, flapping its clumsy, unskilled wings, she stumbled and bumped against his chest.
Cheng Qian Gong's pupils contracted sharply; his whole body stiffened. His thin lips moved, but no sound emerged.
His dark, somber eyes were fixed on Shen Yue. The layer of snow that had covered them was now melting, consumed by a gentle yet potent flame, transforming into a burning, passionate emotion.
He stood for an unknown duration, his limbs growing stiff.
The girl nuzzled closer, pressing her soft cheek against the back of his hand.
This gesture acted like a switch. Cheng Qian Gong finally moved. He half-crouched, his long, fair fingers slowly lifting, delicately caressing the milk-like, fair, and smooth skin.
It was incredibly gentle, as if touching a fragile flower petal.
He traced her features slowly, from her brow to the corners of her mouth, seeming to linger, reluctant to let go.
In the candlelight, the man's usually restrained and calm eyes were now as soft as water, awash with deep tenderness.
Familiar with his scent, the not-quite-sober girl instinctively nuzzled him, like a defenseless little kitten, utterly adorable.
Cheng Qian Gong's thin lips curved slightly. His fingers slowly slid down, reaching her fair, delicate neck, as elegant as a swan's.
His touch accidentally brushed against her collar, revealing the skin beneath.
Cheng Qian Gong's gaze involuntarily followed, then froze.
On the formerly fragile, smooth skin, were distinctly different marks.
Deep red, tinged with purple.
Such a mark would have required considerable force.
Therefore, Shen Yue had seen another man after getting drunk.
Perhaps a favored companion, or someone else entirely.
In any case, certainly not him.
Bearing the marks of another, she had come into his room, acting affectionately towards him, kissing him with such youthful shyness, as if she truly loved him.
He had almost, almost believed it.
He had truly softened, his mind conjuring countless scenarios, all centered around the person before him.
But now, it all seemed like a mockery.
Those marks were like a heavy, brutal slap across his face, stinging and sharp, waking him up.
He remained perfectly calm, his dark eyes as cold and still as water.
No one knew that the fingers of his hand, hanging by his side, were digging deep into his flesh, his nails tearing through skin and muscle.
His fingertips, initially caressing slowly, began to exert more and more pressure, as if he wished to slice off that piece of skin.
The girl, still oblivious, felt a sharp pain on her collarbone, the skin there almost chafed raw. She furrowed her brow, trembling slightly as if in fear. Her lashes fluttered, and her pale, almost sickly face evoked an easy sympathy.
Her voice was small, tinged with grievance, "It hurts..."
This reaction caused Cheng Qian Gong to let out a soft chuckle, though his eyes held no trace of mirth.
The charcoal fire burned, the air thick with heat. Staying in this room for too long would make one sweat, but it couldn't melt the three-feet-thick ice that had frozen on the man's brow.
The man seemed to be smiling, though it was unclear what or whom he was smiling at.
His entire figure was silhouetted against the light, making him appear even taller. His clear, refined, and elegant face was hidden in the dim light, making his eyes appear exceptionally deep and profound.
He let out a low, soft laugh that, in the quiet space, sounded somewhat chilling.
His face was smiling, but his eyes held no amusement. They were colder than the deepest winter snow, a layer of ice having condensed upon them.
Even Shen Yue, in her drunken haze, sensed an indescribable danger directed at her, like a vacuum sealing her in.
The girl grew fearful, her body beginning to tremble slightly.
This was her body's warning, urging her to flee from the man before her.
Her slender, delicate frame shifted backward, as if to distance herself from him.
Flee?
Cheng Qian Gong's face was devoid of expression, his jaw clenched tight. The nameless rage in his chest churned fiercely.
Now you wish to evade?
Just moments ago, you were nuzzling against me.
His gaze turned icily sharp, like a dagger, as if he intended to carve out her heart and inspect its color.
"...Why are you dodging?" Cheng Qian Gong spat out the words through clenched teeth. He looked at the bewildered, wronged girl, placing his hand on her slender shoulders. Feeling her warmth only intensified the rage of being toyed with.
The man's brow was overcast, his eyes piercingly cold. His words dripped with hatred: "What do you take me for? Were the things you said all jokes? Which of your words were true, and which were lies? Are you happy playing with me!"
He had always been restrained and stoic, his emotions hidden. Such intense, frenzied expressions were utterly unprecedented for him.
The girl was stunned by his words. Her slow mind couldn't quite grasp them. She could vaguely sense that Cheng Qian Gong was furious, as if he wanted to devour her whole; it was terrifying.
As if frightened, the girl's lashes trembled, and tears began to fall. She looked dazed, her beautiful dark eyes slightly reddened.
Her delicate features and fair skin made the girl appear utterly bewildered.
She didn't understand what was happening, only that she was dependent on him, calling his name.
"Cheng Qian Gong..."
"Do you know?" Cheng Qian Gong stared at her, his gaze chillingly cold. "It was so close, just a hair's breadth away..."
He had almost truly fallen for her.
He had almost fallen for her headlong and without reservation.
Fortunately, he had now sobered up.
He pried open Shen Yue's fingers one by one. He had already regained control from that intense, wild emotion, his gaze calmly falling.
Shen Yue was stubborn, her grip tight.
The man showed no mercy, his grip heavy.
Shen Yue was ultimately no match for his strength. Her fingers were forced open, her joints aching. The thin, pale skin on the back of her hand bore red marks left by his excessive roughness.
A wave of panic washed over her. The girl blinked, her face paling. Her lips were red and swollen, and she bit them nervously, as if drawing blood.
"Cheng Qian Gong..."
Her voice softened, tinged with a sob.
The man remained unmoved, his expression exceptionally cold and indifferent.
She raised her hand, attempting to pull away again, but the man's disgust and fury descended upon her like a bucket of ice water, chilling her to the bone and filling her with confusion.
She still didn't understand what she had done wrong, why the person who had been so tender with her moments ago had suddenly become so cold.
Without warning, her already faint grip, treated this way, was overwhelmed by a wave of grievance and sadness, threatening to drown her.