Chapter 95: Embraced in Sleep

At that moment, the neighboring room's door opened gently, and Zhao Ling'er's figure appeared silently at the doorway.

Evidently she had just finished bathing, a faint blush on her face, her hair still damp with steam, her expression full of concern, she spoke softly: "Qingxuan brother? What's wrong? Why are you locked out?"

Before she could finish speaking, she caught sight of Li Qingxuan's slightly embarrassed expression, immediately fell silent, only stepping aside to let him in.

Li Qingxuan, however, did not move; his gaze swept past her shoulder and landed on Shuang'er curled up on the bed.

The little girl slept soundly, wrapped tightly in the blankets, only half her small face showing, her breathing even as that of a sated young beast.

He swallowed, his voice lowered to a whisper: "Are you sure letting me in? Shuang'er is still right here."

Zhao Ling'er's cheeks flushed instantly, her hands gripping the hem of her clothes: "She sleeps so deeply, nothing could wake her, and besides, we'll both be yours sooner or later—just a matter of sooner or later."

She held the door, standing to one side, her hanging hair shielding her eyes, making her expression unreadable; only her hurried breath revealed the turmoil within.

Li Qingxuan stood outside the door, the hallway's overhead light casting his tall silhouette onto the door panel, the shadow nearly filling the gap.

The wind outside seemed to grow tighter, wailing as it swept over the fortress's sturdy outer wall, producing a grating sound that made one's scalp tingle, accentuating the stillness inside and outside the door.

"Ling'er," Li Qingxuan's voice low, tinged with a barely perceptible hoarseness, he raised his hand, his knuckles hovering above the door panel without immediately lowering it, "Shuang'er is here; it's not appropriate."

Those few words seemed to carry a weight of a thousand jun, lying heavily between them.

In the crack of the door, Zhao Ling'er's slender shoulders twitched slightly, the fingers gripping her garment's hem whitening from the strain.

She drew a deep breath, as if gathering all her courage, finally lifting her head slowly, peering through her disheveled hair.

Her eyes were watery, brimming with shyness and panic, yet faintly revealing a hint of stubbornness and anticipation.

"I know..." her voice light as a feather, almost swept away by the wind outside, "but... but..."

She bit her lower lip, the words catching in her throat, unable to speak, only her gaze, stubbornly fixed on Li Qingxuan's face, conveying a silent plea and persistence.

"She sleeps deeply," Zhao Ling'er repeated, her voice a little louder, as if convincing herself as well as him, "truly... no amount of commotion could wake her."

Her gaze flicked over the small, steadily rising and falling outline on the bed, then quickly withdrew, locking back onto Li Qingxuan with a resolve of all-or-nothing.

"Just... just a moment?" her tone rose slightly at the end, a hesitant probe, like a kitten extending a paw yet fearing to be burned.

In the hallway, only the bright light illuminated the two of them, reflecting Li Qingxuan's silent profile, Zhao Ling'er gently reaching out to take hold of Li Qingxuan.

Li Qingxuan lowered his eyes to the hand gripping his, then lifted his gaze to meet Zhao Ling'er's, their eyes locking as the air seemed to solidify, time stretching in that silent stare into a viscous length.

Outside the window, the wind wailed, the endless backdrop of the apocalypse; inside the door, the girl's rapid heartbeat and her silent entreaty.

The hand held by Zhao Ling'er finally lowered slowly, letting her pull him inside; he said nothing, only his deep gaze, like a stone dropped into a still lake, sending out ripples of silence, reflecting Zhao Ling'er's eyes filled with complex emotion.

Zhao Ling'er held her breath, feeling her heartbeat thundering loudly in the silence.

Watching the stubborn Zhao Ling'er and her legs trembling from nervousness, Li Qingxuan finally let out a soft sigh.

Li Qingxuan's steps were so light they were almost inaudible, his soles leaving only a faint scrape on the cold floor.

Inside the room, the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp suffused everything, the air filled with the faint floral scent of Zhao Ling'er's shampoo, mingled with the fresh aroma exhaled by Shuang'er in her sleep.

He paused at the bedside, his gaze first sweeping over Shuang'er curled on the bed—the little girl wrapped in thick blankets, only a strand of black hair visible, her breathing long and even, as if she had fallen into a carefree dream.

Zhao Ling'er remained frozen in place, her hands tightly wringing the hem of her clothes, the joints whitening from the force; the stubbornness she had shown a moment ago, at the instant the door closed, turned into silent tension.

Her shoulders trembled slightly, her legs weak enough to barely stand, yet her gaze stubbornly followed him, her moist eyes brimming with shyness and anticipation, like a startled fawn that refuses to retreat.

He stepped closer, not touching her yet, and whispered low: "Ling'er, I'll just sit here for a moment." His voice was hushed, like a murmur, lest he disturb Shuang'er's sleep.

The wailing of wind and snow outside was muffled by the thick walls, leaving only a vague hiss, making the room's stillness feel even more viscous.

Zhao Ling'er, as if scalded by that call, shuddered lightly, finally releasing her clenched grip on her clothing and moving half a step forward.

She raised her hand, fingertips tinged with hesitation, slowly reaching for his sleeve, but just before contact, as if scalded, she jerked back, only lightly pinching a corner of his garment.

"Qingxuan brother..." she called him, her voice as thin as a mosquito, tinged with imperceptible bashfulness, "I... I just..." the words caught in her throat, turning into a hurried gasp.

Li Qingxuan gently grasped her wrist, the slender touch cool and slightly trembling, he said nothing more, merely leading her to the bedside and gesturing for her to sit.

Zhao Ling'er obediently sat beside the bed, her gaze locked on his face, the flush on her cheeks blooming like rouge in the lamp light.

He crouched to be level with her, the depths of his eyes reflecting dancing light and also her uneasy reflection.

"Let's just sit like this for a while, okay?" his fingertips lightly brushed her scattered hairs, the motion so gentle it seemed afraid to disturb a pool of spring water.

Zhao Ling'er nodded, her tense body finally relaxing a little, she leaned her head lightly against his shoulder, drawing in the lingering freshness of his post-bath scent.

In the room, only Shuang'er's even breathing flowed softly, like a gentle lullaby.

The warmth of the hearth seeped faintly through the wall, dispelling the hallway's slight chill.

Li Qingxuan's gaze passed over Zhao Ling'er's head, resting on Shuang'er's peaceful sleeping face, then returned to the lowered eyelashes of the girl in his arms.

Her trembling gradually subsided, her breathing becoming long and slow, as if she had found a temporary haven.

Time drifted slowly in the silence, the wind and snow beyond the mist seeming to fade, leaving only the bedside lamp's halo gently enveloping the three, freezing this corner of the apocalyptic fortress into a silent warm picture.

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