Liu Qianxiu released the mouse. His laptop screen was still bright, the file open in front of him packed tight with data and lines of text.
The room lights were on, clean and quiet. The floor-to-ceiling window to the balcony stood wide open. Liu Qianxiu pushed back his chair, walked to the door, and opened it.
The door faced the balcony. The moment it swung open, the airflow changed, and the room’s cool air rushed out, brushing Mu Wan’s face. It blew some of the heat from her cheeks away, and at the same time, it carried the alcohol on her breath into the open.
Mu Wan’s skin was pale. When she flushed, the red turned soft and pink, as blush dusted lightly over her whole face, like a peach just ripening. Beneath that peach-pink, her lips held a sheen of red, sweet and tempting.
“Liu Qianxiu,” she sang, tipping her face up. Her eyes curved, starlight bright inside them.
Liu Qianxiu’s gaze stayed calm. He looked down at her. The faint scent of liquor tangled with her fragrance, and even the breeze from the open window could not blow it away.
He spoke, voice low.
“Do you want some water?”
Her throat burned. Only when Liu Qianxiu said that did Mu Wan realize how dry she was. She licked her lower lip and nodded.
“Yes.”
Liu Qianxiu shifted aside, leaving space at the doorway. Mu Wan’s eyes went straight through the room, all the way to the balcony. She stepped inside, letting the cool air wash over her as she walked.
His room was similar to hers, except his was a king room and hers was a standard twin—same bathroom, TV, desk, and floor-to-ceiling window with a wide balcony. Because the bed was larger, a long counter-style vanity had been built between the bed and the bathroom.
The room itself was spare, clean, and quiet. Any trace of warmth a hotel room might offer seemed to vanish the moment Liu Qianxiu existed inside it. He looked calm, distant, ascetic. In reality, he had an unnerving kind of influence, as if everything he touched, every place he stood, even the people he met, were rinsed clear and left with something purer.
The kettle and cups were on the desk. The wooden desk stretched from the corner near the balcony all the way toward the bedside table. It looked different from the one in her room, likely something he had brought himself.
There was warm water in the kettle. Liu Qianxiu poured a glass. The clean glass was tall and slender, with a slightly thick base. As the water rose, Mu Wan listened to its soft sound, watched Liu Qianxiu in the light, and felt her body heat again.
She took a step closer.
“I can do it myself.”
The baijiu’s afterburn hit hard. Mu Wan had only stood there a moment, and her sense of balance slipped away. She swayed, let out a small sound, and reached for something to hold.
In a fall, people grab hard. Sometimes they pull the thing they grab down with them.
But what she grabbed did not move.
Not even a drop spilled from the glass.
Mu Wan had grabbed Liu Qianxiu’s shirt hem.
Her head lowered slightly. Her heartbeat hammered against her ears. Her earlobes burned. The linen texture under her fingers was a little stiff, but nothing was harder than the man beneath it.
Her warmth melted the cold air around them.
Mu Wan looked up at Liu Qianxiu once. He looked down at her, too. Her lashes trembled, as if the light had stabbed her eyes. She looked away, rose onto her toes, still holding his shirt hem, and leaned in to the rim of the glass.
Like a kitten.
Two small sips.
Her lips softened with water. So did her throat. Mu Wan felt unbearably hot, while the man beside her still seemed cool.
Her tongue moved slightly, and she lifted her eyes to him again.
The room fell into a deep quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric brushing fabric.
Mu Wan stared at Liu Qianxiu. Her lips parted. Her hand loosened from his shirt hem, then slid wider, until her arms wrapped around his narrow, solid waist.
“You’re so… cool,” she murmured.
Her eyes were blurred with haze. Her warm breath spilled against the side of Liu Qianxiu’s pale throat. Mu Wan smiled and leaned in, pressing her cheek there.
The instant their skin met, heat and cold collided, and Mu Wan shivered slightly in his arms. The cool, clean feel soothed her heat. She suddenly felt tired. Holding him, she let her weight tip backward.
She did not fall.
Liu Qianxiu stood like a statue, steady and unmoving.
Mu Wan lifted her eyes, brows pinching into a small complaint, her voice edged with a soft, drunken grievance.
“I want to lie down.”
Alcohol breathed out with every word.
Liu Qianxiu looked down at her, clearly drunk, and pressed his lips together. He set the glass aside. The heavy base of the cup hit the wooden desk with a dull sound.
Mu Wan lost her balance.
In the next breath, she was guided down.
Her back sank into the soft bed, and she felt the mattress dip with the weight of his hands near her head. Liu Qianxiu braced himself above her, hovering without actually pressing into her, but the moment he leaned down, Mu Wan was surrounded by his scent.
Her body heated again.
They were close. Close enough that Mu Wan could not stop looking at his mouth, her body felt like it was melting. Her lips trembled. Heat clogged her throat.
In his arms, she was all softness and sweetness, cheeks flushed pale pink, eyes shining as they fixed on him without blinking.
Liu Qianxiu held himself still, hands planted on either side of her, looking into her eyes.
It felt like a standoff.
After a long moment, the man above her spoke first. He let out a low sigh, calm as ever.
“You weren’t like this the last time you got drunk.”
Mu Wan’s pupils tightened.
Liu Qianxiu lifted her hand from his waist and set it down. Then he picked her up properly and placed her on the bed. Mu Wan lay flat on the soft mattress. Her heat began to cool, slowly.
Beside her, he said in a low voice, “Sleep for a while.”
He turned off the main light, then returned to the desk. He switched on the small desk lamp. The lamp’s light poured down and wrapped him in a single circle.
He pulled out the chair and sat, continuing the work he had not finished.
As the alcohol fermented inside her, the man in her vision blurred more and more.
Yet Mu Wan felt increasingly awake.
Her head began to ache, slow and heavy.
Alcohol made cowards brave. She had the courage now. She even had the seduction.
But he had refused.
Under the lamp, Liu Qianxiu looked focused, calm, coldly beautiful. His long fingers clicked the mouse, his gaze steady.
One lonely lamp. One book. One immortal.
Immortals did not have ordinary desires. He might someday move his heart, but not now—maybe not for her.
As the heat faded, Mu Wan began to feel cold. She curled slightly under the blanket.
Liu Qianxiu noticed. He lifted his head.
On the bed, Mu Wan’s eyes were shut. Under her black hair, her small face had turned pale again. Her red lips pressed tight. Under the blanket, her body had curled into a small ball.
Liu Qianxiu stood, walked to the door, and turned off the central air.
The cold gradually disappeared. From the open balcony, warm, humid air drifted in. The sky had turned overcast all afternoon. It felt like rain.
Disappointed and dulled, Mu Wan stayed curled up, her mind emptying, until she fell asleep for real.
Her breathing deepened. Outside, the wind moved through tree branches.
Liu Qianxiu’s gaze left the laptop screen and landed on the sleeping woman. She slept, but not peacefully, hands outside the blanket, clutching it, brows faintly drawn.
He watched her for a moment. The wind grew stronger, carrying the wet scent of rain. He looked toward the balcony.
He rose quietly. The room’s silence did not break.
On the balcony, fine raindrops blew in with the wind.
It had started raining.
Liu Qianxiu closed the glass doors and returned inside. He glanced once at the bed. Mu Wan showed no sign of waking.
He looked away and left the room.
Não sei o que sentir com esse capítulo. Mas sei que sentir uma dor no coração
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