Pounced

Luo Yang was momentarily speechless at the question.

Given the current state of their relationship, there was no need to ask such a question with such gravity.

And yet, Qiu Shubai had asked it anyway, her gaze so earnest that he couldn't just brush it off as a joke.

On the back of the sofa, the little black cat had hopped back to its original spot, lying there lazily while the tip of its tail flicked back and forth.

“I guess... I do believe you?”

He offered the answer tentatively, though even he felt the words sounded a bit strange.

Qiu Shubai stared at him for two seconds.

Luo Yang had no idea what kind of internal monologue she went through during those two seconds; he only saw her lowered eyelashes tremble once, as if she had finally crossed a hurdle she had set for herself.

Then she spoke, her voice lower than he had ever heard it.

“Then, regarding what happens next... please keep it a secret.”

“Huh?”

Before he could process her words, let alone react, a flurry of gray-white hair filled his vision.

So close...!

That was the only thought Luo Yang’s brain could manage.

An elegant fragrance wafted into his nose—a clean scent, almost like soapberries, that could only be captured at such close proximity. It was mixed with a faint metallic tang of blood, and deeper still, a subtle floral scent that he couldn't quite tell was real or imagined.

His mind seemed to emit a sharp crack before going completely offline.

This reaction was beyond his control, but in the fraction of a second while his consciousness attempted to reboot, the girl’s entire weight had already pressed down onto him.

Qiu Shubai pounced so quickly that Luo Yang instinctively braced his hands against the floor to steady himself.

That single movement cost him his last chance to resist tonight.

Her face was pressed almost directly against his left shoulder. A flash of Bloodfall’s cold gleam flickered in his peripheral vision, immediately followed by a sharp, subtle sting in his shoulder.

It felt more like a gentle nip from something very thin and sharp, piercing the skin without going any deeper.

It was somewhat like the sensation of a finger prick for a blood test back on Earth.

A surge of warmth welled up from that spot, but it was far from over. What followed was a warmer, wetter sensation.

That sensation blocked the wound she had just opened; something soft pressed against it, enveloping every millimeter of the wound's edge.

A slick, velvety feeling mixed with a dull ache traveled inch by inch along the nerves of his collarbone and into his brain.

It was only then that his brain finally regained some semblance of processing power.

Was Miss Chief biting him?

That was the first piece of information his rebooted brain processed.

The second piece followed immediately: She was drinking his blood.

The third piece was one he didn't even want to accept: He hadn't pushed her away immediately.

He looked down at her. Her long, gray-white hair had spilled over, almost completely veiling her face. Her nose, lips, and cheeks—contours he was used to seeing—were all hidden beneath her tresses.

Only a section of her nape was visible; the skin there was so white it was nearly translucent, revealing a very thin, azure vein beneath.

But his skin was providing tactile feedback.

He could clearly feel the cheek pressed against his collarbone; its temperature was rising steadily, reaching a point where Luo Yang found it almost hot.

He knew he should do something, yet he didn't move.

The golden tree within his Sea of Consciousness remained still throughout his daze. The golden light flowing between its leaves maintained a steady frequency, as if telling him there was no threat here.

It was merely a situation he had never dealt with before.

The living room was silent, save for the low hum of Bloodfall hovering nearby and Qiu Shubai’s breathing, which was slightly more hurried than usual and sounded muffled through the fabric of his shirt.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly within that muffled sound.

She wasn't trying to hurt him, he told himself clearly.

The little black cat hopped down from the sofa, walked silently past their feet, and hopped back up, never once glancing at them during the entire process.

The little guy seemed far more composed than he was.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Qiu Shubai lifted her head from his shoulder.

Her face came into his view. That nearly translucent, cold pallor from before had faded, replaced by a healthy luster and a faint flush on her cheeks.

The only thing abnormal was the trace of blood remaining at the corner of her mouth.

She raised her hand and wiped it away with her sleeve.

The movement was quick, leaving him almost no time to react, but Luo Yang saw it all.

He had completely recovered from his mental freeze by now, though his forehead still felt a bit warm.

He looked at her for a while, not in any rush to push her off him.

Finally, he let out a sigh.

“Who would have thought our Miss Chief was actually a vampire?”

He spoke without any trace of anger, his voice instead carrying a touch of bewildered helplessness.

“What, I treat you as a friend, and you treat me as emergency rations?”

The flush on Qiu Shubai’s face deepened even further.

She kept her eyes downcast, not daring to look up at him, and squeezed two words out of her throat.

“...I'm sorry.”

Her voice was incredibly soft. If they hadn't been pressed together, he certainly wouldn't have heard it.

Those two words seemed to exhaust the last of her resolve. After speaking, she slumped another half-inch toward him, as if the apology had drained her of all support.

Luo Yang caught her by the shoulder to keep her from actually collapsing.

The moment his hand touched her, he realized her body temperature was still high—so hot it made his fingertips feel slightly numb.

He braced himself and sat up straight. The spot on his left shoulder that had been bleeding no longer hurt. He looked down and saw that the wound was completely gone; only the hole in his shirt and the dark red stain on the surrounding fabric proved that it hadn't all been a strange dream.

The healing had been too fast, bypassing even the process of scabbing.

He shifted his gaze back to Qiu Shubai’s face, then naturally looked at her right eye.

The spider lily rotating in her pupil had slowed down significantly. The luster on the petals was clear, and the color had become vivid—a brilliant, dripping red, as if someone had adjusted the brightness and saturation in a photo editing software.

“So what exactly is going on? Did you accidentally sign yourself up for the Blood Angels recruitment office during your breakthrough?”

Qiu Shubai still didn't look up.

She moved a little away from him, the process slow, her knees making a slight scuffing sound against the floor. Finally, she sat beside him, her hands folded neatly over her knees.

Her posture seemed prim and proper at first glance, but the flush on her cheeks was impossible to hide. The ends of her hair rested against the exposed skin of her collarbone, swaying gently with her shallow breaths.

She remained silent for a moment, seemingly choosing her words or perhaps waiting for her burning face to cool down.

“It is likely... a side effect of the Crimson Abyss.”