The moment they met Lu Chengyue, Wen Shuyao was startled by his imposing presence. She grabbed Xu Wanning’s arm, wanting to scream but somehow managing to hold it in.
Song Yunqing instinctively took a step back.
She wanted to run.
Only Xu Wanning kept staring at him.
And staring.
And staring.
She couldn’t bear to look away, afraid that if she did, the man before her would disappear again.
Lu Zhiyu stuffed the bag she was carrying into Lu Chengyue’s hands.
“Mom asked me to bring this to you.”
She pointed at the three girls beside her.
“These are my roommates: Xu Wanning, Song Yunqing, and Wen Shuyao. I’ve wanted you all to meet before, but we never found the time.”
Then she pointed at Lu Chengyue.
“This is my brother, Lu Chengyue.”
Following the most intense gaze in the room, Lu Chengyue looked toward Xu Wanning.
She caught the sharpness in his eyes.
That was his instinct.
He always assessed first before lowering his guard.
Xu Wanning simply stood there smiling at him.
The smile was small, barely lifting the corners of her lips.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly.
She looked shy and embarrassed, delicate and timid.
For a brief moment, Lu Chengyue lost focus.
He had to admit it.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Without question.
Stepping aside from the doorway, he said, “Come in and have a seat.”
His voice was even lower than before.
The deep resonance struck directly against Xu Wanning’s heart.
Lu Zhiyu pulled everyone inside and casually dragged over a folding chair.
“Bro, were you up all night?”
“Mm.”
His deep voice carried traces of exhaustion.
Xu Wanning, Wen Shuyao, and Song Yunqing obediently sat down on the row of folding chairs, listening to the siblings’ brief conversation.
The equipment room wasn’t large.
The air carried a mixture of rubber and sweat.
It wasn’t unpleasant.
But there was an undeniably masculine presence in the room that felt almost aggressively overwhelming.
Lu Chengyue took out disposable cups and poured each of them a cup of warm water.
Afterward, he picked up an oxygen mask he had been organizing earlier.
His fingers were long and well-defined.
The calluses along the base of his thumb were clearly visible.
“How did you get here?” he asked without looking up.
“Taxi.”
Lu Zhiyu spotted an opened package of biscuits on the table and immediately grabbed it to share with the others.
“What did Mom and Dad send you?”
“No idea. I wanted to look, but Mom wouldn’t let me.”
She pouted dramatically.
Xu Wanning sat with her knees together and her toes slightly turned inward, looking exceptionally well-behaved.
But her hands told a different story.
Her left hand cradled the paper cup.
The index finger of her right hand slowly traced circles around the rim.
Again.
And again.
The movement was so slow that anyone watching would assume it was unconscious.
For the third time, Lu Chengyue’s gaze casually swept over her fingers.
Each glance lasted only an instant.
So brief that no one else noticed.
Only Xu Wanning knew.
In her previous life, Lu Chengyue had always been fascinated by her hands.
No.
Not fascinated.
Obsessed.
She set down her cup and stood up.
Pretending to be curious, she looked toward a helmet on a shelf bearing Lu Chengyue’s name.
Turning around, she met his eyes.
“Can I take a look?”
His pupils contracted slightly.
“Sure.”
Xu Wanning rose onto her tiptoes.
At 172 centimeters tall, she still couldn’t quite reach.
As she stretched upward, the hem of her sweater lifted slightly, exposing a sliver of her waist.
Pale.
Dazzlingly pale.
Her fingertips brushed the edge of the helmet.
But it was wedged tightly onto the shelf.
Unable to grab it, she repeatedly curled and extended her fingers.
Behind her came the scrape of a chair moving.
The corners of Xu Wanning’s lips couldn’t help lifting.
Lu Chengyue walked over without saying a word.
His arm extended past her shoulder as he reached for the helmet.
The movement almost enclosed her within his embrace.
Yet his control was perfect.
Not a single part of him touched her.
Close enough.
Just close enough.
Close enough that she could feel his breath brushing the top of her head.
Warm.
Faintly scented with mint.
Close enough that she could smell traces of laundry detergent lingering on his training shirt, mixed with his own natural scent.
The combination sent tingles down the back of her neck.
It felt overwhelmingly invasive.
Overwhelmingly masculine.
Xu Wanning neither retreated nor leaned closer.
She simply tilted her head back slightly and looked at him.
From below, her eyelashes appeared even longer.
Her eyes looked innocent.
She had practiced this angle countless times in front of a mirror.
This seemingly casual glance over her shoulder had been carefully perfected.
Every detail carried its own charm.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Very softly.
Lu Chengyue didn’t answer.
He simply looked down at her.
Sleepiness lingered in his eyes, like a thin layer of mist.
Something stirred beneath that mist, struggling to emerge.
After a moment, he stepped back.
Handing her the helmet, he returned to his chair.
He picked up the oxygen mask again.
But instead of continuing his inspection, he merely held it in his hand.
“There are more snacks in the drawer,” he said.
His voice sounded slightly hoarser than before.
“Help yourselves.”
Lu Zhiyu answered with a quick “Okay” and got up to rummage through the drawer.
Wen Shuyao and Song Yunqing stared at their phones.
In reality, neither had any idea what was on their screens.
They were intimidated.
Zhiyu’s brother was terrifying.
The room gradually fell silent.
Xu Wanning sat back down.
This time, she sat slightly sideways, crossing one leg over the other.
The tip of her shoe pointed toward Lu Chengyue.
Wen Shuyao tugged on her sleeve.
“Wanning, aren’t you scared of Zhiyu’s brother?”
Xu Wanning laughed softly.
“Not at all. Doesn’t he make you feel incredibly safe?”
Song Yunqing’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You mean that seriously?”
The boys they usually met were lean and slender at most.
Even the athletic ones only had light muscle.
But Lu Chengyue’s arms were thicker than their legs.
The sleeves of his uniform bulged with solid muscle.
The sense of pressure he gave off was overwhelming.
His clenched fist looked bigger than their faces.
One punch from him probably meant seeing their great-grandmother in the afterlife.
Xu Wanning nodded gently.
“Of course. He’s a hero who protects people. Why would I be afraid of him?”
Wen Shuyao and Song Yunqing immediately felt guilty.
That was true.
Lu Chengyue was a firefighting hero.
He should make people feel safe, not frightened.
Throughout the conversation, Lu Chengyue kept his head lowered.
He never once looked at them.
The oxygen mask in his hand was turned over three times.
Not once had he actually inspected it.
But he was listening.
Listening to Xu Wanning call him a hero.
Listening to her say he wasn’t scary.
Listening to her laughter.
Listening to the occasional creak of her chair.
Listening to every tiny sound created by her movements.
He had been awake for twenty-four hours straight.
His concentration should have been scattered.
He should have been exhausted.
Yet his hearing felt unusually sharp.
Sharp enough that it seemed he could hear her breathing.
Xu Wanning deliberately let out a tiny yawn, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
Lu Zhiyu turned toward her.
“Tired?”
Xu Wanning wiped away the tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye.
“A little.”
Wen Shuyao snorted.
“That’s because you stayed up until two in the morning binge-watching dramas.”
Xu Wanning froze briefly.
Right.
This body wasn’t the one that had spent forty-eight straight hours slaughtering zombies without sleep.
This was her body from three years ago—the one that secretly stayed up late watching TV dramas.
She smiled but didn’t explain.
She wasn’t tired at all.
She had said it deliberately.
Lu Chengyue had been awake all night.
By saying she was tired, she could create a subtle sense of kinship between them.
The same exhaustion.
The same weariness.
And with that, the distance between them would naturally shrink.
After all—
what was empathy, if not a form of seduction?