Chapter 66: The Excited Mist

His smile is truly enchanting…

His blue eyes gazed at her, and under that gaze, her entire body trembled uncontrollably, her heart pounded wildly, as if she herself were about to ignite.

“You haven’t contacted me these past few days…” She stared into his eyes, utterly intoxicated, “Was my answer that night a mistake… Forgive me, I didn’t want to hurt you, so I dared not come near you again…”

Chris seemed to understand her words; gently, he extended his arms, lightly resting his hands on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes as if to say, “I don’t blame you at all…”

She was lost in that gaze, just as she had been lost in the ocean countless times before.

Without her noticing, the invisible slime on Chris’s hands clinging to her shoulders was surging into her body…

She tilted her head slightly, gazing at this dreamlike sapphire, at this illusory dream, at this sanctuary she used to escape reality—he shone with such brilliance, so radiant, brighter than the sun, illuminating every shadow…

He was the most beautiful miracle on earth, the only moon in the night sky, he was paradise, he was Peach Blossom Spring, he was the dream itself…

Her eyes blurred as she gazed at him, his elegant, perilous silhouette like nature’s most perfect painting upon the vast earth; she murmured:

“...Just like this—stay forever radiant, just as you are now… You shouldn’t have come near me—no, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have come near you… I shouldn’t have known the real you, I shouldn’t have intruded into your life… Why did you suddenly step out of your illusory halo and come to me—this is all my fault…”

Chris lowered his head slightly, slowly drawing closer to her, as if about to kiss her.

“...I wanted to come near you, like a moth to flame… I couldn’t help but want to draw close—if there’s even a chance to touch the dream, why not try?… But if you step out of the dream, where will my dream reside? Where will I find paradise again… When I want to hide, where can I hide? When I need a place to rest, even temporarily, where can I go…”

“Forgive me… Chris… Why did you say you love me? I don’t need a lover, a real one… I only needed a place to escape to…”

Chris lowered his head and kissed her lips; she closed her eyes, her mind momentarily frozen.

The mist above the city grew denser; milky-white clouds poured out in thick clumps from the area centered on Yang Yi, slowly rising over the mountains, creeping over skyscrapers, spreading into heavy veils of gauze that drifted and enveloped the entire Wucheng.

In Yang Yi’s mind appeared an endless ocean, a blue ocean.

She remembered the evening she moved to Haibei City, when she came alone to the shore, breathing air heavy with the scent of salt and sea, the cool wind brushing her face as if touched by something cool and soft.

She walked barefoot toward the waves, stepping deeper and deeper, wanting to walk right into the ocean.

In her childhood fantasy, the ocean tasted like orange—pure childish delusion; the only link between oranges and the sea was the neighbor boy’s orange-flavored candy, whose wrapper bore a drawing of a blue ocean—and so, in the bitter years of childhood, this sweet illusion took root: the ocean must be sweet, and it must taste like orange.

That day, she finally reached the ocean; though over the following decades she corrected the mistaken notion that “the ocean is sweet,” the childhood impression still left the sea tasting sweet in her heart.

“...Chris...” Her blurred eyes licked his lip corner, “You’re so sweet… You taste like orange too...” she said.

Chris smiled—a slightly smug, slightly shy smile. He kissed her more deeply, pulling her tightly against him, leaving no space between them.

Countless slimes, alive and silent, seeped into her body, yet she remained oblivious.

Beneath her skin, a strange force writhed, swelling and undulating against her flesh.

She drowned in this hazy sensation, as if drowning in the illusions of the past.

Several times, she met him in midnight dreams—a mad, chaotic, passion-charged, hormone-drenched dream.

For instance, one night, after finishing several novels she was following, and reading two more lewd fanfics from Huaduo.com, her mind—constantly rushing, never pausing to reflect on her own existence—finally returned to reality in a haze just before midnight.

What profound clarity in loneliness: she stood by the window, breathing the cold, empty sea breeze, realizing she was, in this vast universe, a rootless waterweed, a dandelion seed, forever floating midair, with no anchor, no support, no meaning.

The window of her rented apartment stood wide open, the rusted iron frame marked by years; outside, the coast stretched directly opposite, the night sea appearing deep, vast, and solitary.

She forced herself to sleep, forced her mind to empty, refusing to let any thought of herself arise.

Perhaps because of those few fanfics before bed, she dreamed of Chris—a truly shameful dream, one she dared to savor only in the solitude of midnight, only to let her runaway thoughts roam freely—by day, even thinking of it was a crime, an affront to morality, a violation of law, deserving of being dunked in a pig cage, locked in a prison.

Yet now, Chris was more enchanting, more forward, more alluring than even her wildest dream.

His bulging muscles, his rapid breaths, his strong hands gripped her tightly, as if trying to crush her into his body.

His breath carried a vivid citrus scent—fresh, sweet—and it infected her, stirring her uncontrollably, her blood surging through her veins like a tsunami, like a mountain flood.

The mist grew denser still, thickening into viscosity; the entire district was shrouded in it, until even under the streetlights, no human shapes could be seen.

Yang Yi’s eyes were tightly shut, her face wearing a dazed smile, as if lost in the most exquisite illusion, utterly immersed, unable to break free.

Around her seemed to swirl a human-shaped mist, but this mist was grotesquely distorted, constantly shifting shape—sometimes revealing faces of people, sometimes mutated organs, occasionally even alien lifeforms never seen on Earth, swirling like a kaleidoscope.

And Yang Yi was surrounded by this mist.

From afar, the mist resembled a beating heart—expanding and contracting—as if—excited?!