Cen Zhixu hooked her arms around Pei Yuan’s neck, standing on tiptoe with most of her weight hanging on her.
Like a branch snapped off at random, dripping with morning dew, a gentle sway sent a ripple of watery shivers blooming in the embrace.
Cen Zhixu’s toes were unsteady, and with every sway, she drew a little closer.
Her waist was soft, curving inward into a gentle arc. When Pei Yuan stroked and touched it, pressing her finger bones inward, they could sink right in.
One grasp and it was full; one clasp and it was complete.
Ah.
Pei Yuan was silent for a moment.
She stood still, letting Cen Zhixu half-hang on her, her nostrils surrounded by that trace of unfamiliar pheromone that was so faint it was almost about to dissipate.
The closer Cen Zhixu leaned, the more piercing that Alpha scent, which did not belong to her, became.
Faint and bland, hidden in the folds of the clothing, it inexplicably annoyed the heart.
Pei Yuan pressed her lips together and then smiled, the arc of her lips proper and exact, without a single flaw: “The Commander jokes. I have no intention of interfering with your actions.”
“I was just curious for a moment.”
“Just asking casually.”
Pei Yuan said with a smile: “No matter who Chief Cen meets or what she does, I have no right to question it, nor any room to comment.”
She raised her hand, her knuckles resting lightly on Cen Zhixu’s shoulder, pushing her half a step away.
The movement was very light, and the etiquette was complete.
Yet precisely with this half step, Pei Yuan lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on Cen Zhixu’s slightly messy hair ends and the few folds at her collar.
Her nostrils twitched very lightly.
How smelly.
That wisp of unfamiliar pheromone lingered on Cen Zhixu, baring its fangs and brandishing its claws, entangling endlessly with the cold and faint white irises.
Obnoxious and arrogant.
Like someone pouring an entire bottle of cheap perfume over a letter, blurring the handwriting.
It didn’t match her at all.
Not at all.
Pei Yuan could not clearly explain where the irritability in her heart came from; the more she smelled it, the more annoyed she got, the more she thought about it, the more annoyed she got. In short, she was extremely unhappy.
If she were outside the city, she could easily find some fun, such as randomly picking a lucky bandit den to blow up, infiltrating the black market to pry away two boxes of smuggled goods, and making a minor contribution to wasteland governance.
At worst, she could also haul away that stack of risqué bedtime reading that the mole hid under the arms box, happily watching the mole howl in grief.
Unfortunately, she was still trapped in the damn White Tower City. The moment she stepped outside, there was a ghost thing called the Eye of Order staring 360 degrees without dead angles at her every move.
Pei Yuan turned her head away, no longer looking at her.
The rejection was very obvious.
Cen Zhixu looked her over twice, withdrew her arm, and took a step back.
The weight hooking her neck disappeared, along with the unfamiliar Alpha pheromone and that wisp of clinging white iris, all pulled away together.
Pei Yuan did not feel much more relaxed because of this. The back of her neck still retained a trace of itchiness left by her fingertips that refused to clear away, and her heart felt hollow.
Cen Zhixu bent down to pick up the slipped uniform, looked at the place Pei Yuan had just been squatting, and asked casually: “What did you hide?”
Pei Yuan froze instantly.
Oh no.
To retaliate against the misery of reading the contract, she had specially bought a small gift to irritate Cen Zhixu, which was now brazenly displayed in the living room, waiting for someone to come home.
Pei Yuan rushed over in a flash, shoved everything back into the packaging box indiscriminately, and hid the box behind her back.
“Haha, nothing,” Pei Yuan gave a dry laugh, “Just bought some little gadgets randomly, I will put them back in my room right now.”
Cen Zhixu lifted her eyelashes to look over, her expression calm, her eye tails trailing a trace of languidness: “Really?”
“I thought it was a gift for me.”
Her ending tone was soft, “I thought you bought it specially to bring back and make me happy.”
The tips of Pei Yuan’s ears turned red, and she continued to play the fool: “Ah? What gift or no gift, what is the Commander talking about? Your subordinate doesn’t understand.”
Cen Zhixu chuckled softly, stopped pressing further, and walked upstairs carrying the uniform.
Pei Yuan also smiled awkwardly, returning to her room to shove the small gift box deep into a drawer.
When she came out again, Cen Zhixu’s figure was no longer visible in the living room, and even the iris fragrance had dissipated.
Pei Yuan stood in place and looked up.
That door on the second floor had already closed, and a very faint line of warm light leaked from the crack of the door.
She paused for a moment, an indescribable strangeness rising in her heart: was it disappointment, or relief?
Pei Yuan did not know.
However, she really wanted to blow something up right now, any unobservant bandit stronghold, with a loud bang and soaring flames.
To blow away all this inexplicable and unvented irritation in her heart together.
She sat down casually on the sofa with her legs crossed, pondering whether to use the large projector to play a horror movie to scare people, but her gaze was drawn to the other side of the living room.
The living room had an entire wall of extremely tall floor-to-ceiling windows, and the glass was transparent, reflecting the city’s night view.
Streets intersected and light trails crossed, looking lively and prosperous. Unfortunately, the artificial light was too strong, making it impossible to see the stars in the night sky.
Pei Yuan was just appraising the scenery outside the window when some movement suddenly came from upstairs after a while.
She stood up subconsciously and looked up.
At the corridor railing on the second floor, the room door was opened a crack, and the warm yellow light spilled out like a small piece of melted honey.
Cen Zhixu was winding a soft towel, wiping her wet, long hair. She stepped into the honey, meeting the gaze of Pei Yuan downstairs precisely.
She had just finished taking a bath, and her skin was steamed by the hot water into a layer of light pink, from her earlobes and the side of her neck to her exposed arms, she looked warm all over.
Cen Zhixu curved her eyebrows and smiled at her.
Softly and gently.
Pei Yuan blushed a little for no reason, wanting to look away, but always dragged by her small thoughts, she shifted her gaze back to Cen Zhixu.
She was wearing a white silk nightgown, the silk surface rippling like water, flowing across her shoulder bones, waistline, and the sides of her legs.
The hem of the skirt hung down to her calves, exposing a slender, white ankle, her toes stepping on soft velvet, moist and pretty.
Cen Zhixu leaned over the railing, looking at her like a moon fished out of water.
“Looking for stars?”
She said.
Pei Yuan stiffened and answered subconsciously: “Yes, it is just that the city lights are too bright, so nothing can be seen.”
Cen Zhixu leaned against the railing, tiptoeing slightly, and glanced out the window as well.
The silk skirt swayed and swayed along with it.
Like rippling moonlight.
“I heard that out in the wasteland, if you are unfortunate enough to encounter a sandstorm, the electronic compass fails, and the radar is no longer reliable, you can only use some ancient methods.”
She supported the wooden handrail and walked down the stairs step by step. Her fingertips brushed past, radiating a thin layer of pearlescent light.
“For example, looking at moss or looking at shadows.”
“Or else.”
Cen Zhixu walked to the bottom of the stairs, looking out the window together with Pei Yuan, looking at the pitch-black night sky swallowed up by artificial light.
“Wait for a night without a moon, and look up to find the brightest star.”
She turned her head to look at Pei Yuan, “Is that right?”
Pei Yuan’s throat tightened slightly.
The awkwardness in her heart had not yet dissipated; on the one hand, she stubbornly thought Cen Zhixu looked really good, while on the other hand, she couldn’t help but recall that troublesome unfamiliar pheromone.
The fluttering emotion and sourness intertwined, tangling until even Pei Yuan herself couldn’t tell which was more dominant.
Pei Yuan was silent for a moment, and gave a low mhm: “There aren’t so many lights on the wasteland; the stars are very bright.”
“Is that so?”
Cen Zhixu sat on the sofa, pulling both legs up and sinking into the softness.
She pointed to the space beside her, “Pei Yuan, tell me a bit more about yourself. Tell me something about outside the city, or on the wasteland.”
“What does the Commander want to hear?”
“Anything is fine.”
Pei Yuan hesitated, but still walked over, sitting beside Cen Zhixu with a small gap in between.
What should she say? Those glorious deeds of bombing the arsenal, blowing up transport vehicles, collapsing half an outpost, and prying, burning, smashing, stealing, and robbing definitely couldn’t be told.
Pondering, Pei Yuan picked some harmless things to talk about: sandstorms, towns, beer, and headless ghost stories by the bonfire.
Cen Zhixu listened very attentively, without interrupting her or offering perfunctory politeness. Every word Pei Yuan spoke was properly and earnestly tucked away.
Watched so gently by her, Pei Yuan suddenly felt that White Tower City wasn’t completely devoid of stars after all.
Isn’t there one right here?
Pei Yuan softened in her heart, and then immediately found it a bit funny:
This person Cen Zhixu was truly a master of manipulating human hearts; it would be too much of a waste not to become an interrogator.
Under this terrifying gentle offensive, even the stiffest mouth would cry, with reddened eye rims, and honestly write an eight-thousand-word confession.
Before she knew it, Pei Yuan completely relaxed, and her tone carried a bit more enthusiasm than before:
“There was also one winter when I was sleeping near the ruins and heard movement outside in the middle of the night, thinking trouble had come.”
“I rushed out in a hurry and saw a thin, bone-thin little wild dog squatting at the cave entrance, staring at the half-flatbread in my hand and refusing to leave.”
Cen Zhixu curved her eyelashes: “And then?”
“And then I shared half the flatbread with her,” Pei Yuan spread her hands, “She didn’t run away after eating, and guarded the cave entrance all night.”
“When I went out the next morning, she followed me for two streets and couldn’t be shaken off. Later, I gave her to a child in the city.”
“Sounds quite cute.”
Cen Zhixu chuckled softly.
“Speaking of which,” she said leisurely, “I have always wanted to raise a puppy, too.”
Pei Yuan was startled.
“Didn’t raise one when I was young,” Cen Zhixu said, “Later there were too many things to do, and the people coming and going around me were mixed, so I gradually dismissed that thought.”
“If it is just for a momentary fancy, it would be too irresponsible, so I haven’t raised one all along.”
“However, I have seriously considered that if one day I really want to raise a puppy, I must be responsible for her.”
Cen Zhixu leaned sideways against the sofa cushion, the ends of her hair slightly curled, tilting her head to look at her like a lazy ragdoll cat nestled on a soft cushion waiting for a servant to blow-dry its fur.
“I will only raise one.”
She said.
“One is enough, I won’t raise another.”
The tips of Pei Yuan’s ears turned hot immediately, and she fiercely cursed herself in her heart: Useless!
She wasn’t stupid.
Of course she understood what Cen Zhixu meant by those words.
The so-called raising a puppy was probably still teasing her, but beyond the teasing, it hid a clear reminder: she wouldn’t have any other little girlfriend.
At least, not for the moment.
Pei Yuan wanted to pretend she didn’t understand, but she really couldn’t fake it well. Her arms hung stiffly on both sides of her body, words stuck in her throat, unable to come out for a moment.
Cen Zhixu lowered her gaze to look at Pei Yuan’s hand resting on the edge of the sofa, and suddenly touched her.
Pei Yuan’s shoulders and back stiffened slightly.
The next instant, Cen Zhixu had already clasped her knuckles and flipped her hand over.
Palm facing up, laid bare into Cen Zhixu’s hand.
Cen Zhixu’s fingertips were warm, wrapped in the soft heat of having just taken a bath, and probed in like a small fish, drawing a circle in the palm of Pei Yuan’s hand.
One circle.
And another.
Lightly, with an itch.
“Last chance.” Cen Zhixu said softly, squeezing Pei Yuan’s finger bones.
She brushed against Pei Yuan’s shoulder, her fingertips sliding inch by inch down her spine, wrapping around her waist, and then leaning in to rest her chin in the crook of her shoulder.
Their breaths grew close, heat spreading along the side of her neck, lips brushing lightly against Pei Yuan’s earlobe, lingering and separating: “Pei Yuan, do you really not want to cover up the scent of someone else?”