A month of bickering and noisy coexistence passed. Li Xi had gone from initial discomfort to calm acceptance, while Yun, after only a few days of symbolic restraint, had fully revealed his true colors.
The green snake perched on the Ancient Tree had somehow become well-acquainted with Yun. Whenever Yun was bored, he would tease it relentlessly, and the snake, wary of Li Xi’s lingering authority, dared not resist. One insect and one snake actually got along quite “harmoniously.”
One early morning.
Li Xi sat with a mess of hair and sleepy eyes, clutching his quilt and staring blankly at the snake on his lap. He looked exceptionally dazed and cute.
“You’re awake?” Yun had just finished washing up and stepped out of the bathroom.
Li Xi slowly turned his head to look at the neatly dressed child, then unceremoniously pinched the tip of the snake’s tail and held it up in front of the boy’s face. His voice was soft with sleep: “…Snake?”
Yun pulled a sweet, innocent smile, his purple eyes darting around as he grinned. “Well… it was too hot last night, so I used it to cool down.”
Li Xi: “…”
Who was the one so scared they lost their mind last time?
Yun let out a long, melodious whistle and leaned against the edge of the bed to tease the snake. “You’re cool to the touch, but you won’t let me hug you to sleep. I could only turn to him.”
He made it sound as if Li Xi had deeply wronged him. Li Xi remained unmoved.
“Right, Little Green Snake?” Yun tapped the snake’s head with his fingertip, seemingly complaining. “Isn’t your Master very cool to the touch?”
The green snake let out a timely hiss.
Yun froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. “See! He agrees with me!”
“…” Li Xi still held the snake, subtly applying pressure with his fingertips. Feeling the warning from its tail, the green snake instantly collapsed, hanging its head obediently and even turning back to affectionately rub its head against the hand that held its fate.
The weather had become much hotter than a month ago. Li Xi’s body temperature was naturally low, so he didn’t feel the heat even in the height of summer. The indoor temperature control system only operated in winter, and he didn’t have the authorization to control it.
After playing with the snake for a while, Yun suddenly looked up at Li Xi, his eyes curving into crescents as he tried to strike a deal: “If you let me hug you to sleep, the snake will never appear on the bed again. How about it?”
Li He was cool and smelled of milk; it was very comfortable. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to hug him!
Hearing this, Li Xi threw the snake toward the child with the mischievous grin without hesitation, refusing without a second thought: “Snake… yours.”
The implication was: Keep the snake.
Understanding the meaning, Yun feigned a heartbroken sigh and replied dejectedly, “Fine then.”
Li Xi hadn’t yet adjusted to the child’s presence enough to allow him such intimate proximity during sleep. Their peaceful cohabitation was already the result of a long period of psychological preparation on his part.
Seeing that it was almost time for school, Yun put on his black-and-white uniform and slung on his backpack. As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back, trying to tempt him one last time: “If you agree, I’ll take you out to play this afternoon!”
Li Xi looked at the child calmly, unmoved. He grabbed his pillow, planning to go back to sleep.
Not tempting enough?
Yun added, “Then I’ll take you for fruit tea! It’s sweet and sour, very delicious! All the cubs love it!”
Li Xi was halfway to lying down but slowly sat back up, wavering between his principles and food. Yun watched this, his lips curling upward uncontrollably, thinking he’d be able to hug the boy tonight!
However, the next two words ruthlessly pulled him out of his fantasies.
“Not drinking.” Having said that, Li Xi covered his head and fell back down completely.
“Huh?” Yun stared at the tightly wrapped cub, puzzled. The temptation of food failed? Is he getting harder to coax?
He wanted to try other temptations, but time wouldn’t allow it. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late.
After Yun left for school, Li Xi’s sleepiness vanished. His mind was filled with thoughts of that sweet and sour fruit tea. He had never tasted it before…
Li Xi sat up abruptly, staring at Yun’s pillow for a full three minutes. He gave it a vengeful kick before getting out of bed to wash up as if nothing had happened.
Tempting me…
Near noon, Li Xi was lying in the tree catching up on sleep. Ever since he used his mental power to bewitch that high-ranking male Zerg at the banquet, his state hadn’t been great, and Tuanzi hadn’t woken up again.
In his drowsy state, a clear, familiar voice reached his ears.
“Li He—!”
Li Xi removed the leaf covering his eyes and tilted his head toward the source. The child was standing under the tree, calling to him with full energy. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes sparkled as he shook a brown paper bag in his hand. “I brought fruit tea and lunch!”
Yun had lived here for a month and still hadn’t seen Li He’s parents. The degree to which Li He was ignored was comparable to a female Zerg; his daily diet consisted of nothing but nutrient solutions.
Li Xi stared at the light blue liquid in the cup and slowly sat up, looking at the joyful child with a puzzled gaze. Yun squinted in the sunlight. After a month of living together, he could guess Li Xi’s thoughts quite well.
He raised a hand to block the piercing sun and said with a grin, “The afternoon classes aren’t important, so I sneaked out.”
The afternoon was for extracurricular activities. After teaching some basic combat techniques, the professors would let them train freely and only take attendance right before dismissal. He’d just have to rush back.
Li Xi translated this sentence into a simple meaning in his mind and calmly exposed Yun’s bad behavior: “Skipping class?”
Yun’s smile stiffened. “Who told you this is skipping class?”
Li Xi said flatly, “You did.”
Yun wouldn’t admit to something he hadn’t done, so he subconsciously retorted, “When did I say—”
He stopped mid-sentence as he suddenly remembered: a few days ago, while on a call with a friend, he had vaguely mentioned that skipping class was bad and that he would definitely never do it… He had spoken so softly; how was he still heard! Yun regretted not going further away to take the call.
Li Xi looked down. The child seemed to have remembered; his expression changed several times in a short span from confusion to realization. Li Xi wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but the kid’s face seemed a bit red.
Finally, under Li Xi’s gaze, Yun spun around in place, then looked up with a stern face to threaten him: “Are you going to eat or not!”
Li Xi decided to stop teasing him. “Eating.”
Ever since Yun arrived, Li Xi had many more choices for his meals, with almost no repeats. Moreover, the food Yun brought always suited his taste perfectly. It was delicious.
After dinner that evening, Yun was hunched over the low coffee table, focused on his homework. On the sofa was a cub covered in a small blanket, with a book on some unknown subject resting on his face.
—Sleeping.
Yun let Li Xi use his book as a light shield. The rustling sound of writing filled the quiet first floor. Before long, a sudden thud interrupted Yun.
He looked over to see Li Xi sitting up in a daze, his messy hair no longer covering his eyes, which were revealed by accident. Li Xi first rubbed one eye, looked around in confusion, and then bent over to pick up the book as if no one else were there.
Spread it open, cover the face, lie down—continue sleeping. The sequence of movements was as smooth as flowing water.
Yun: “…”
When Yun finished his homework, Li Xi was still asleep. He took the book off and gently shook him. Li Xi’s head was still foggy as he was led upstairs. While brushing their teeth, Yun had a sudden whim and put a milk-white headband on Li Xi, revealing the eyes half-hidden by his hair. Li Xi was too tired to care.
“Do eyes fade?” The sudden voice nearby startled the vacant-eyed Li Xi, who struggled to pull himself out of his drowsiness.
“Hmm?”
Yun pointed to the mirror and recalled, “Why do I remember your pupils being pitch black?”
Li Xi’s eyes focused. Hearing this, he stared at himself in the mirror. After a long while, he noticed the anomaly. Just as Yun said, the edges of his pupils were not as dark as the center; under the overhead light, they shimmered with a faint, translucent gray.
The hair on Li Xi’s forehead had grown quite long, covering his eyes, and combined with the fact that he rarely looked in the mirror, he hadn’t noticed this change.
While Li Xi was deep in thought, an enlarged face suddenly appeared before him. Another centimeter and they would have touched. Before he could react, Yun withdrew first, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “They look a bit light gray. It’s actually quite pretty.”
Yun put an arm around Li Xi and pulled out his optical computer, his voice tinged with excitement. “Come, come, take a photo with me. I forgot to take one when they were pure black; I can’t forget this time. Don’t look at me, look at the lens.”
Yun originally wanted to help Li Xi pose to make the photo look better, but Li Xi was already showing signs of wanting to leave. Ignoring everything else, he hurriedly pressed the capture button.
Click. The photo was captured. A second late, the person in the photo was a bit blurry, but at least those beautiful eyes were caught. Yun tucked away his optical computer with satisfaction.
Li Xi shut the bathroom door behind him, tossed the headband onto the nightstand, and sat on the bed with downcast eyes, thinking about the change in his eyes. He was still in a daze when Yun finished his bath.
Yun waved a hand in front of him. Li Xi snapped back to reality a beat late. Yun pointed to the bed, saying something silently. Li Xi looked down and realized he had somehow occupied the child’s side of the bed. He moved over, and just as he lay down on his side, he heard a mumble from beside him: “Don’t daze off all the time. It makes you look not very smart, and it’s not good for your brain.”
Although no names were mentioned, there were only two of them here; he couldn’t be talking to that little green snake, could he? Li Xi turned over to ask, but before he could say anything, the overhead light was abruptly cut off, plunging the room into silent darkness.
“Little snake, if you sleep too late, you’ll become a little silly snake.”
Li Xi: “…”
The next morning, Li Xi lay on the bed for a long time after opening his eyes before he found any strength. He struggled to get up and dragged his soft, weak body downstairs. The back of his head throbbed painfully, and every step felt like walking on cotton.
Standing on the stairs, he seemed to see the boy who should have been at school sitting on the sofa playing with his optical computer. In a moment of dizziness, Li Xi’s foot missed a step, and he tumbled straight down the stairs. His last thought was a sense of relief that there were only a few steps left—the fall wouldn’t be too severe.
Yun had already devoted half of his attention to the sounds upstairs the moment the footsteps started. While playing his game, he counted the sounds of the descent; there were fewer than usual. He looked up in confusion just as the boy lost his footing and fell.
Without time to think, Yun’s body reacted on instinct. The bone wings on his back “snapped” open. He tossed aside his optical computer and leaped into the air, his wings flapping as he flew toward Li Xi, faster than in his usual training.
“Ugh—”
Thud—
Under the force of inertia, Yun and the boy rolled several times, only stopping when they hit an obstacle. Fortunately, he had the day off today; otherwise, Li He’s fall would have surely resulted in a hospital visit.
After the fall and roll, Li Xi, wrapped in the bone wings, felt his consciousness drifting. He moved blearily, his limbs returning to that state of weakness from the morning. Yun retracted his wings and accidentally touched Li Xi’s neck, only to find it was burning hot. “Do you have a fever?”
Hearing this, Li Xi shook his head. It wasn’t a fever; something was wrong with his mental sea. But his throat was so swollen and uncomfortable that he couldn’t speak a single word.
Seeing this, Yun unlocked his optical computer and, remaining relatively calm, opened the dial pad and entered the emergency number.
In the thin summer clothing, Yun felt a body temperature as hot as a raging fire, as if he were holding a blazing sun in his arms. The scorching heat made Yun shudder. Could a fever really be this hot?
Halfway through the call, Yun suddenly remembered something. His voice trembled with uncertainty. “You’re not entering your awakening period, are you?”
a male cub’s awakening was always treated as a major family event. During the period before and after the awakening, male cubs would be strictly protected and isolated from all danger, with Zerg guarding them around the clock in shifts. He had almost forgotten that Li He hadn’t gone through this crucial event yet!
No wonder his Female Father had told him not to panic no matter what strange things happened. But how could he not panic?! What if he died due to some slight oversight!
And what made him even more panicked was that the emergency line was busy!
Li Xi barely regained a bit of consciousness and struggled to hang up the call. He then tapped a string of numbers and dialed. All they got was a busy signal.
Yun grew more anxious: “No one’s answering. Who are you calling?”
Li Xi: “…”
That unreliable male Zerg, he said in his mind.
Li Xi switched to a different set of numbers, calling his Female Father in the far reaches of space. The moment the call connected, his forced consciousness could no longer hold out and was submerged by the rising tide.