Chapter 40: Roses

With the light switched off, Mo Yu lay down on the bed. To her left was Li Jun, curled up, and to her right was Qing Xuan, holding her close. In her heart, she carried thoughts of her family, far away.

The anxiety and fear of the entire day had left her mind and body utterly exhausted, and she quickly drifted into sleep.

Qing Xuan held Mo Yu around the waist, only loosening his grip when her breathing became slow and steady. He tiptoed out of bed, moving to the door, stepping carefully over the piled barricades, and peered through the peephole. Only after confirming that the zombies wouldn’t break in anytime soon did he feel a measure of relief and return to the bedside.

Qing Xuan gazed quietly at Mo Yu’s sleeping face, his eyes gentle yet filled with a fierce possessiveness. He placed a light kiss on her cheek. Watching her small, impatient reaction, he shook his head with a smile and walked to the window.

The rain had lessened, but the drops still beat a quick rhythm against the ground. Qing Xuan stretched his arms out, as if welcoming the rain’s arrival.

After a while, he sat down on the soft sofa by the window. The cushions were so plush that most of his small body sank into them. He looked at his thin arms and legs, laughing at himself, before falling into deep thought.

Meeting Mo Yu felt like destiny’s arrangement—he was meant to protect her, to fall in love with her.

He remembered the first time he transformed into human form: a man in his twenties. Though the world was unfamiliar, his intelligence was never childlike. In fact, he was certain that his intellect surpassed most people on this planet.

Yet he had never once doubted Mo Yu’s decisions or her abilities. She gave him a sense of security, a kind of magic that soothed him, yet also left him constantly anxious—afraid she might abandon him, afraid she might fall in love with another man.

He admitted it: after living in this world for some time, many of his wounded or aggrieved expressions were feigned. Even the time he was surrounded by zombies was just an attempt to shift Mo Yu’s attention away from that man called Cheng Qidong and back to himself. Who could have predicted that real danger would arrive?

Watching her recklessly throw herself toward him, he had been worried, angry, and elated all at once. But deep inside, he felt a profound sense of guilt.

Why did he always need her to protect him? Why did he keep causing her trouble?

Why?

Eventually, even his body rebelled against him. Shrinking himself was a great strain and, after shedding his skin, he could no longer return to such a small form—a protest from his own being.

But this was the only way he could get more of Mo Yu’s attention.

Foolish, self-destructive.

And yet he never tired of it.

He’d even considered drowning himself in the middle of the bath, but how could a snake drown? Even he found that hard to believe, but she had believed it. She worried herself sick over him, nearly drowned for his sake.

He saw it all, remembered it all, and was deeply moved, even happy.

But was he truly happy inside?

No.

Her affection for him was only friendship, a sisterly care—concern and protection. In the fluctuations of her emotions, he could not sense even a trace of romantic love.

He could receive all her care, but could not deceive himself into thinking she loved him.

Could a person fall in love with a snake?

Sometimes, even he thought it impossible.

But what could he do? Watch her find a man she truly desired, watch them become intimate, perhaps even rejoice when they had a child together?

Impossible! He would probably go mad and kill that man before such things could happen.

So he no longer wanted to be a child. He wanted to be the man she could trust, the man she could rely on. He wanted her to fall in love with him, willingly, and to bear the fruit of their love.

It was madness, he knew. The discovery that a snake could fall for the one who had bonded with him at birth was madness enough; now he wanted even more.

He wanted not only to be mad himself, but to make her mad as well—to love him, to love a snake!

At four in the morning, the sun was already rising. Though veiled by dark clouds, golden threads of light shone through, like ropes of hope, pulling souls from the abyss.

The zombies’ roars outside the door did not wake the two on the bed, a testament to how frightened and exhausted they were.

Qing Xuan walked to Mo Yu’s side of the bed. Seeing no sign of her waking, he removed the restricting children’s clothes from his body and returned to his original adult form.

If he wanted change, he needed first to make her trust and rely on him.

When he was small, he held her waist; now, grown, he still held her waist. The first time, he nestled in her arms; this time, she nestled in his.

This indescribable sense of fulfillment—how truly joyful it was!

Holding Mo Yu’s soft, warm body, Qing Xuan finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Even in his dreams, he was smiling.