Chapter 66: The Excited Fog

His smile was truly charming...

His sapphire-blue eyes gazed at her; under that gaze, her whole body trembled involuntarily, her heart raced wildly, and she felt as if she were about to burn up entirely.

"You haven't contacted me these past few days..." She looked into his eyes, completely intoxicated, "Was my answer that night a mistake... Forgive me, I didn't want to hurt you, so I dared not approach you again..."

Chris seemed to understand her words; he gently extended both hands toward her, lightly placed them on her shoulders, and looked down into her eyes, as if to say, "I don't blame you at all..."

She was intoxicated by that gaze, just as she had been intoxicated by the sea countless times before.

Without her noticing, the invisible slime from "Chris's" hands on her shoulders was eagerly rushing to burrow into her body...

She tilted her head slightly, gazing at this sapphire in her dream, gazing at this illusory dream, gazing at this paradise she used to escape reality; he was so radiant, so brilliant, more dazzling than the sun, capable of illuminating all darkness...

He was the most beautiful miracle in the world, the sole bright moon in the night sky; he was the paradise, he was the Peach Blossom Spring, he was the dream itself...

Her eyes were hazy as she gazed at him; his graceful yet perilous silhouette resembled the most perfect painting of nature on the vast earth; she murmured to herself:

"... Just like this, as long as you remain radiant and brilliant forever, just like now... You shouldn't approach me—no, it's my fault, I shouldn't approach you... I shouldn't have known the real you, I shouldn't have gotten close to your life... Why did you suddenly step out of the illusory halo and come to my side—all this is my fault..."

Chris lowered his head slightly, slowly moving closer to her, as if he wanted to kiss her.

"... I want to get close to you, just like a moth flying into a flame... I can't help but want to approach you; if there's even a sliver of a chance to touch the dream, why not try... But if you step out of the dream, where can my dream rest then? Where can I find the paradise again... When I want to hide, where can I hide? When I want to find a place to rest temporarily, where else can I go..."

"Forgive me... Chris... Why do you say you love me? I don't need a lover, a real lover... I just want a place to hide..."

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

The fog above the city grew denser; milky-white clouds and mist oozed out in clumps from the area centered on Yang Yi, slowly spreading over Gaoshan, over the skyscrapers, dispersing into thick layers of gauze, and drifting lazily to shroud the entire Fog City.

An endless ocean, a sapphire-blue ocean, appeared in Yang Yi's mind.

She remembered the evening she moved to Haibei City; she went alone to the seaside, breathing in the air carrying the scent of the sea and salt, the cool wind striking her face, her skin feeling as though caressed by something cold and soft.

She walked barefoot toward the waves, going deeper and deeper; she wanted to walk straight into the ocean.

In the illusory dreams of her childhood, the ocean tasted of oranges—this was entirely a child's absurd delusion; the only connection between oranges and the ocean was a piece of orange-flavored candy given to her by her neighbor's older brother; on the wrapper of that sweet candy was drawn a blue ocean—thus, amidst the bitter times of childhood, there arose this sweet fantasy: the ocean must be sweet, and it must taste of oranges.

That day, she finally arrived at the ocean; although in the following ten-plus years she had corrected the mistaken notion that "the ocean is sweet," the subjective impression of her childhood still made the ocean taste sweet in her heart.

"... Chris..." She gazed hazily and licked the corner of his lips, "You're so sweet... You also taste of oranges..." she said.

Chris smiled; it was a somewhat proud smile, yet also carrying a touch of shyness. He kissed her more deeply, holding her tightly in his arms, leaving not a single gap between them.

Countless slimes, as if alive, silently seeped into her body, yet she remained oblivious.

Beneath her skin, a strange force writhed, pushing up undulating shapes on the surface of her skin.

She was immersed in this bewildering sensation, just as she had been immersed in the illusory dreams of the past.

Several times, she met him in midnight dreams; it was an absurd, chaotic dream filled with passion and hormones.

For instance, one night, after finishing the few novels she was following and reading two erotic fanfictions from Huaduo Network, just before midnight, her brain, which had been constantly busy and had no time to ponder its own existence, finally returned to reality amidst the chaos.

It was such a lucid loneliness; she stood by the window, blowing in the cold, desolate sea breeze, realizing that within this vast universe, she was like a rootless duckweed, like a dandelion seed, forever floating in midair, without anchor, without support, without meaning.

The rental window stood wide open; the rusted iron window frame bore the marks of time; outside the window faced the coastline; at night, the ocean appeared deep, vast, and lonely.

She forced herself to sleep, forced her brain to empty, refusing to generate any thoughts about herself.

Perhaps it was those few fanfiction short stories before sleep; she dreamed of Chris; it was truly a shameful dream, one she dared to savor alone only in the solitude of midnight dreams, daring to let her wandering thoughts roam freely—in the daytime, even thinking of it was a crime, an offense against morality, a violation of the law, deserving of being soaked in a pig cage, deserving of imprisonment.

Yet at this very moment, Chris was more charming, more proactive, and more seductive than in the most absurd dreams.

His bulging muscles, his rapid breathing, his powerful hands held her tightly, as if trying to mold her into his own body.

His breath carried a vivid citrus scent, fresh and sweet; this scent infected her, making her involuntarily excited; her blood surged through her veins like a tsunami, like a flash flood.

The fog grew denser and denser, becoming so thick it turned viscous; the entire city district was shrouded in this heavy fog; gradually, even under the lights, no human figures could be seen.

Yang Yi kept her eyes tightly shut, a bewildered smile on her face, as if she had entered the most wonderful illusory dream, immersed within it, unable to extricate herself.

Around her, there seemed to swirl a human-shaped mass of fog, yet this fog was grotesquely deformed, constantly changing shape; at times, human faces emerged from within it; at other times, mutated organs appeared; occasionally, alien creatures never seen on Earth manifested, shifting endlessly like a kaleidoscope.

And Yang Yi was surrounded within this mass of fog.

From a distance, this fog looked like a giant heart, expanding and contracting, as if—excited?!