The moonlight seeped faintly through the open window, casting a pale glow over the silk sheets and the pair lying atop them.
Sheng Moxian's finger slowly traced lazy, almost possessive circles on Hei Long's chest, her touch feather-light but constant, as if trying to brand her presence into his skin.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, her tone a whisper meant for no one but him.
Hei Long let out a quiet exhale, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle, amused smirk.
"Nothing much," he said, eyes half-lidded:
"Just a gut feeling that something good happened somewhere. You know how the heavens like to toss fortune my way."
He chuckled lightly to himself… but then, almost instantly, the warmth faded from his expression.
His smile dropped, replaced by a flat, unreadable stare as he tilted his head toward her:
"…Now, why are you still here?"
Sheng Moxian didn't flinch.
In fact, she giggled—a high, silvery sound that somehow sounded off.
