69 Defros (2/2)

How beautiful, but, could they really seal this moment of tranquility and preserve it through time and space?

Meng Fuyao only felt a sudden ache somewhere. She shivered. Yuan Zhaoxu had let her go, his eyes producing an even more beautiful reflection on the ripples.

Meng Fuyao's face was slightly flushed as she turned away, her eyes subconsciously sweeping her gaze toward Yuan Zhaoxu's wet body. His robe was half undone, and water beads could be seen rolling down his bare chest, whose muscles were even more eye-catching than the brightest of pearls. The soft moonlight accentuated his collarbones, which extended into his collar, feeding one's desire to explore the glory within.

Meng Fuyao stared blankly, suddenly feeling her nose heating up. She lowered her head and saw that the water surface was red. 'Oh no, oh god, oh no, a nosebleed? How am I to face him...'

Before she could process her thoughts, she tasted something sweet, and the next thing she knew, she had spat something out from her mouth.

She raised her head and was greeted by a sudden downpour of cold, blood rain. The moon was dyed a bright red as the rain streamed down their faces. Meng Fuyao could see the shock in Yuan Zhaoxu's eyes, and in it, she could also bizarrely see herself collapsing.

'Oh.. nosebleed... not lust...' An irrelevant thought popped in her head before she collapsed.

A light beam leaped within her narrowing vision as the fragrance of food blended in with the warmth of the light.

When Meng Fuyao opened her eyes again, she saw the domed roof of a cave. There was a fire and by it sat Yuan Zhaoxu, almost awkwardly drying his clothes.

'Clothes... clothes!'

Meng Fuyao jolted up and looked down at herself. 'Phew...' She had her undergarments on.

She grabbed the blanket, which was Yuan Zhaoxu's outer robe. She caressed it, vaguely recalling the events that had happened and blushing uncontrollably.

Meng Fuyao scanned her surroundings and caught sight of Lord Yuan Bao drawing circles in a corner. He was dry, and Meng Fuyao guessed that he hadn't been in Yuan Zhaoxu's robe when the latter went into the water. Why was he acting so gloomily, then?

Yuan Zhaoxu turned around, his eyelashes and pupil appearing darker under the firelight. He looked at her and spoke after some time, ”Zong Yue did not tell me about Emotion Lock.”

Meng Fuyao drew the corner of her mouth back and leaned back a little from the lack of strength. ”Now you understand?”

”Wrong.” Yuan Zhaoxu shook his head. ”There is a way of undoing any poison. It is the heart that is the hardest to unlock. Stop finding excuses, Fuyao.”

After a short silence, Meng Fuyao responded, ”Alright, I'm wrong, but I think I'm rightly wrong.”

Yuan Zhaoxu had actually understood her words. He fixed his eyes on her and reached out to stroke her hair. ”You stubborn little thing...”

Meng Fuyao waited for him to erupt. 'Hit me. Hit me then. I'm unhappy too.'

Yuan Zhaoxu supported her up, her wet and already tousled hair stuck on her back, before sitting behind her and tidying it carefully with his slender fingers. He let them dry by the fire while saying, ”Your hair is wet, and you're unable to protect yourself from the poison at this point. Be careful not to fall ill.”

Meng Fuyao rubbed her hands together, not speaking a word. She took in the man's charming scent as he nimbly sorted out her stray hair strands. His movements tickled her, sending waves of electricity throughout her body. She felt as though she had been brought high up to the clouds, but a bead of tear gradually formed in her eyes.

She would rather be thrown out, scolded or beaten than to experience such irresistible warmth.

Yuan Zhaoxu remained silent throughout the process, appearing to be in deep thought as he started braiding her hair.

Meng Fuyao couldn't help but let out a smile. ”Don't tell me you can even braid a girl's hair?”

Not answering, he focused on his task while seemingly recalling something. ”Unable to comb her hair the night before, the girl has messy strands draping over her shoulders as she rested her head on the lap of a sir, who tenderly looks down at her...”

His low yet graceful voice hovered around her ears as waves of warmth swept over her. She shuddered, just as a strand of hair had accidentally been pulled out, and she hurriedly smiled to conceal it.

”Ouch.”

Yuan Zhaoxu paused for a slight while before releasing her braid. ”I think I still can't do it.”

Meng Fuyao reached her hand to touch it, feeling a half-rolled bun. As she burst into laughter and was about to mock him, she heard him say, ”You stubborn little thing... I'll wait.”