Chapter 96: Shocked Zhao Shuang'er

Li Qingxuan's eyelids began to flutter, heavy fatigue like a tide washed over, slowly loosening his taut nerves.

He leaned against the headboard, his body involuntarily leaning back, shoulders pressing against the cold wall, trying to use that bit of coolness to dispel drowsiness.

Zhao Ling'er noticed his change, gently shifted her body, lifting her head from his shoulder, her watery eyes shimmering with concern in the dim lamplight: "Qingxuan brother, are you tired?" Her voice was kept extremely low, fearing to disturb Shuang'er's deep sleep.

Li Qingxuan forced his eyes open, his blurred gaze landing on her face; the shy blush hadn't fully faded, yet it added a touch of tender worry.

He shook his head, a weary smile flickering at his lips: "It's fine, just… a bit tired."

The air in the room seemed to stagnate; the fireplace's residual warmth seeped through the walls, mingling with Shuang'er's even breath, weaving a warm, snug net.

The bedside lamp's halo danced on Ling'er's lashes, casting fine shadows; she hesitated, then placed her hand over the back of his hand resting on his knee, her fingertips icy and slightly trembling: "How about… you rest a moment against me?"

Her voice was like a feather lightly brushing the ear, tentative and soft: "Shuang'er is sleeping soundly; she won't wake."

Li Qingxuan didn't refuse, letting her guide his arm as he lightly rested his head on her slender shoulder; the girl's body heat seeped through the thin fabric, carrying a faint post-bath fragrance and a hint of barely perceptible tension.

He closed his eyes, her hair's faint scent lingering in his breath; her suppressed breathing sounded like a murmuring stream at his ear.

Zhao Ling'er's stiff body gradually relaxed; she lowered her gaze to the tranquil profile of the person in her arms, firelight casting soft shadows across his contours.

His breathing became even and deep, his chest rising and falling slightly; each exhale brushed her neck, sparking a faint tingling.

She couldn't resist lightly stroking the stray strands of hair falling across his forehead with her fingertips, the motion so gentle as if fearing to shatter thin ice.

In her dream, Shuang'er smacked her lips, turned over, burying her little face deep into the pillow; only a strand of black hair peeked from beneath the blanket, she lay as still as a speck of dust at the storm's eye.

Time flowed silently in the warmth; Li Qingxuan's consciousness drifted between fatigue and wakefulness; he could feel Ling'er's heartbeat, steadily striking his eardrum through the cloth—its rhythm initially erratic, then gradually calming, finally merging with the room's stillness.

The fireplace ashes darkened completely; the bedside lamp cast a soft glow from the corner, like a lone star keeping watch. Ling'er's voice sounded again, barely audible over the darkness: "Lie down and sleep awhile, Qingxuan brother!"

She clung to him, her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, as if guarding a fragile warmth; his response was only a muffled sigh, his head sinking deep into the crook of her neck.

Shuang'er's breathing, the wind's whimper outside the window, their intertwined body heat—all sounds and sensations wove into a chaotic warm current, utterly drowning his last vestiges of wakefulness.

Zhao Ling'er helped Li Qingxuan lie down gently, then nestled her body into his embrace; in the darkness, her mouth curled into a faint, almost imperceptible arc, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the outline of his shoulder blades.

Beyond the mist, wind and snow still raged, but in this small space, only the three of them breathed together in the dark, sinking into dreamless peace.

Next morning.

Zhao Shuang'er, half-asleep, curled up, her little hand groping under the blanket for a warm source; her head habitually nudged toward the familiar direction scented with her sister.

What she met wasn't her sister's soft, warm waist, but a broad chest radiating an unfamiliar warmth.

She blinked open her sleepy eyes, long lashes still dotted with droplets of drowsiness; her vision first met a blur of fabric texture, then slowly rose—there was Qingxuan brother's sharply defined jawline, his Adam's apple twitching faintly in his sleep.

Shuang'er froze, then fully woke; she bolted upright, seeing her sister Zhao Ling'er curled against Qingxuan's other side, cheek resting in the crook of his arm, sleeping deeply, breath even, only her brows slightly furrowed as if dreaming of something.

And she herself, like a little baby, had wrapped her arms around Qingxuan from the side, pressing tightly against his chest.

"Sis…" Shuang'er murmured instinctively, her voice thick with morning hoarseness and deep confusion; then, as if realizing something, her eyes widened, and her small hand lightly touched Ling'er's arm.

Zhao Ling'er almost instantly startled, her body giving a slight tremor; the moment she opened her eyes, her hazy gaze met Shuang'er's wide eyes filled with disbelief.

Last night's events surged back like a tide; her cheeks flushed instantly, even her ears tinged crimson; she flailed to sit up, only to find Li Qingxuan's arm still loosely encircling her waist, his other hand resting behind Shuang'er's back, holding the two of them gently in his embrace.

Her movement stirred Li Qingxuan; his thick lashes fluttered lightly as he slowly opened his eyes, those deep eyes still holding a trace of sleep and a hint of laziness.

Morning light filtered through the window, casting a grayish haze across the room, outlining his sharply defined profile.

He first instinctively tightened his arms, feeling the soft warmth in his embrace and another small, fragrant body pressed against him, then he truly awoke.

His gaze swept over the shy Ling'er in his arms, who dared not meet his eyes, then fell on Shuang'er, who lifted her little face, eyes full of curiosity as she looked at him.

Li Qingxuan's Adam's apple rolled once; his gaze instantly cleared, tinged with a barely noticeable embarrassment.

"Cough… awake?" His voice, low and husky from just waking, softened as it fell on Shuang'er's face: "Want to sleep a bit more?"

Shuang'er shook her head; her big eyes kept darting between her sister and Li Qingxuan, her mouth slightly open as if she had countless questions to ask.

Zhao Ling'er finally wrenched free of his arm, bolted upright, hastily tidying her sleep‑rumpled hair and collar, avoiding his gaze and Shuang'er's, she only whispered: "Shuang'er, hurry up, time to wash up." Then she pulled Shuang'er out.

After stepping out, Shuang'er tugged at her sister's arm and asked: "Sis, did you guys do anything last night?"

Zhao Ling'er's face flushed instantly; she twisted her sister's arm and snapped: "You little brat, what are you thinking? Nothing happened that fast."

"How then did Qingxuan brother end up sleeping in our room? And why are the three of us sharing one bed?" the sister eyed her with a mischievous, "let's get to the bottom of this" look.

The sister said nothing more, simply dragging her toward the bathroom.

Li Qingxuan also sat up, moving his shoulders, which had stiffened from his sleeping posture.

The room still retained last night's fireplace warmth; outside, a spring‑morning chill seeped silently through the window, dispelling the last trace of warmth.

He glanced out the window; thick fog still shrouded everything, beneath the dim sky the mist‑filled interior was dead silent, as if unchanged since eternity.

He threw off the blankets, stepped barefoot onto the slightly cool floor; the chill shot straight up his soles, fully waking him; he walked to the window and looked at the dawn countdown on the control panel.

"The daylight hours are growing longer—could the polar night be coming?" he murmured, his tone returning to its usual calm, as if last night's warmth and intimacy had been merely a fleeting dream.

Just then, the door was lightly knocked; Li Feifei's voice came through the panel, carrying the morning's languid tone: "Qingxuan, Ling'er, awake? Breakfast is ready."

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