The ink-like night cascaded down, saturating the city. A silent, deathly pale streak first cut across the distant horizon, like a careless crack left by God, before a dull thunder, like a colossal stone roller, rumbled heavily across the clouds, portending an uneasy stir.
Lan Yucheng stood by the window, watching the large raindrops begin to patter against the glass, leaving winding trails of water.
Her fingertips lightly traced the cold windowpane, a nearly imperceptible curve gracing the corner of her lips.
One of the system’s core analyses of Su Yiyi—’a strong protective instinct towards others’ vulnerability’—now became the most precise weapon in her hand.
Before the first lightning bolt ripped through the sky, accompanied by a thunderclap that threatened to shatter eardrums, Lan Yucheng had already calculated the timing with uncanny accuracy.
Like a startled rabbit, she swiftly and ‘frantically’ retreated to the innermost corner of the bed, wrapping herself tightly in the thin blanket, revealing only a slightly trembling shoulder.
The moment the next flash of lightning illuminated the room, she perfectly timed a suppressed, tearful gasp, curling her body even tighter, her performance utterly flawless.
Indeed, Su Yiyi, who had been leaning against the headboard reading, dropped the book almost the instant the thunder boomed.
The rustle of pages was drowned out by the louder rain and thunder, but the concern and anxiety on her face were unmistakably clear.
“Yucheng!” Su Yiyi’s voice held an undeniable tenderness as she immediately moved closer, without a moment’s hesitation, reaching out to pull the ‘trembling’ body fully into her embrace.
“Don’t be afraid, it’s alright, it’s just thunder. I’m here…” Su Yiyi’s soothing voice was soft yet firm, her body heat enveloping Lan Yucheng’s slightly cool form.
One arm circled her shoulder, while the other gently, with an undeniable force, covered Lan Yucheng’s ear closest to the source of the thunder.
The world was instantly half-isolated.
The deafening thunder became muffled and distant, replaced by Su Yiyi’s close, warm breath caressing her temple, and the powerful, rapid thumping of Su Yiyi’s heart against her chest—thump, thump, thump…
It was like a war drum, beating against Lan Yucheng’s eardrums, and also against the carefully frozen defenses of her heart.
Lan Yucheng took the opportunity to bury her face deeply into Su Yiyi’s neck. The skin there was delicate, exuding the clean fragrance of a recent bath and a uniquely reassuring warmth that belonged solely to Su Yiyi.
Her nose almost touched the line of the collarbone beneath the slightly open neckline of the other’s pajamas, a soft yet vibrant sensation transmitting through the thin fabric.
Su Yiyi’s embrace was so tight, imbued with a posture of complete devotion, as if she wished to transfer all her strength and sense of security to the ‘fragile’ soul in her arms.
In that instant, all calculations, all coldness, seemed truly evaporated by this sudden warmth and shelter.
Lan Yucheng’s taut body unconsciously relaxed, even instinctively burrowing deeper into that warm source, like a young beast genuinely seeking refuge, greedily absorbing this sense of security that threatened to melt her.
Outside, the raging storm became a blurred background sound; this small world contained only the two of them, their breaths mingling, their body temperatures fusing.
A strange, dizzying sense of dependence seized her, even planting an absurd and dangerous thought: ‘What if this rain never stopped? What if time froze at this very moment?’
But this thought, like a meteor, was torn apart by an even stronger storm of consciousness the moment it streaked across her mind.
In a brief lull in the thunder, Su Yiyi’s doting care seemed so… peaceful, so natural. Yet another figure, burning with an all-consuming madness, abruptly crashed into her mind—Xiao Xue.
If it were Qing Xinxue, she would probably never fear thunder—it would be more like a rhapsody played just for her.
Her eyes would gleam when the first lightning bolt tore through the sky, and she would unhesitatingly pull Lan Yucheng’s hand, laughing as they rushed into the pouring rain.
The rainwater would quickly soak their clothes, outlining the vibrant contours of her young body, yet she would simply tilt her face skyward, letting the raindrops strike her, as if it were a baptism gifted by heaven and earth.
When the thunder rumbled, she would suddenly draw near, and in the instant lightning turned the world to daylight, softly kiss Lan Yucheng’s lips.
That kiss would carry the freshness of rain and a hint of reckless tenderness, as if to forever seal that moment under the witness of the heavens.
Rainwater would trickle down their pressed cheeks, making it impossible to distinguish whose warmth it was.
Amidst the curtain of rain, all sounds blurred, only their heartbeats clearly audible. That sensation of cold wetness intertwined with warmth, that closeness in the downpour, as if isolated from the world with only each other, became a memory unique to them.
And now, this warm embrace indoors was like a soft blanket by a winter fireplace—stable, comforting, allowing one to safely indulge.
Both temperatures were real, yet they belonged to starkly different seasons.
A sharp wave of self-loathing and vigilance suddenly surged within her. ‘How could I crave this false warmth? How could I almost drown in this trap I myself wove?’
To punish this momentary ‘betrayal,’ and to pull her spiraling emotions back ‘on track,’ Lan Yucheng secretly dug her fingernails hard into the inside of her thigh beneath the blanket.
The sharp pain instantly pierced through the warm mist, bringing her back to full awareness.
She began to display a more ‘authentic’ reaction in Su Yiyi’s arms—no longer mere fearful trembling, but a barely perceptible, subtle resistance.
Her body no longer clung as loosely; instead, a faint stiffness emerged. Her face, buried in Su Yiyi’s neck, no longer rested in complete dependence.
Instead, it occasionally turned gently, her soft lips brushing, seemingly inadvertently, against the sensitive, delicate skin on Su Yiyi’s neck.
Each accidental brush was like a stone cast into a placid lake, stirring ripples deep within Su Yiyi’s heart.
Su Yiyi’s body visibly tensed for a moment, and the strength of her arms embracing Lan Yucheng subtly shifted. It was no longer purely protective, but infused with an indescribable tension and… a certain hidden flutter.
Her breathing seemed to falter, the air brushing Lan Yucheng’s hair carrying a hint of heat.
Lan Yucheng clearly perceived all of this. Su Yiyi’s slightest reactions became the weights validating her own control.
‘Look,’ she thought, ‘not only can I draw out protection with ‘vulnerability,’ but I can also easily disrupt her composure with this ambiguous touch, skirting the edges of desire.’
Outside, the thunder and rain still raged, but on this small bed, a more secret, more perilous storm was silently unfolding.
Beneath the warm embrace lay cold calculation.
Lan Yucheng simultaneously drew security from Su Yiyi, reminded herself to stay clear-headed with fantasies of fierce love and self-inflicted pain, and, at the same time, cast more enticing bait into this gentle quicksand with her elusive touches.
This complex and twisted entanglement was far more heart-stopping than the lightning and thunder outside the window.