Xi Yao's mind went blank.
Qi Yan's words still echoed in her ears, carrying the damp morning air, as if even the wind dared not interrupt his murmur:
"If you try to run, we'll see if you can even stand afterward."
She instinctively shrank back an inch, but the bed frame pressed against her—nowhere left to retreat.
"Don't go crazy again. I just praised you yesterday for acting a little human—"
Qi Yan didn't answer. He simply looked down at her, one hand resting on her shoulder—light as a feather, yet heavy enough to pin her in place.
He lowered his head, his breath brushing her ear.
"Didn't you say you weren't afraid of me anymore?"
"I never said—"
Before she could finish, his hand cradled the back of her neck, and in an instant, the divine mark on her forehead flared to life, burning hot.
"Then don't hide."
She barely parted her lips to speak when they were sealed by warmth.
This kiss held no savagery, no force—just an unexpected… gentleness. The divine mark's feverish pulse mellowed into something soothing, as if he feared startling her, as if coaxing a skittish creature.
Xi Yao froze.
She hadn't expected him to kiss her like this.
Hadn't expected him to be so soft.
She almost forgot to struggle.
Qi Yan's palm settled at her waist, his touch deliberate, as if relearning her presence inch by inch.
When she didn't resist, he deepened the kiss, slow and thorough, until their breaths tangled and her eyes reddened. Only then did he finally pull away.
"You—" Her voice came out hoarse. She swallowed. "Are you… sick in the head?"
Qi Yan didn't take offense. Instead, he smiled.
"Yes. Sick with you."
"At least your madness is self-consistent." She braced against the bed to sit up straight, smoothing her disheveled hair. "Is this your new way of keeping me prisoner?"
"Are you afraid of me now?"
She scoffed. "Afraid of you? I'm afraid of last night's insanity, afraid of your unreasonable temper, and most of all—afraid you'll kiss me and then vanish."
"I won't run."
Qi Yan held her gaze, his voice steady.
"I want to stay. To go mad with you."
Xi Yao fell silent.
His words didn't sound like sweet nothings—they felt like… a vow.
"I don't trust you." She looked away. "One moment you tell me to leave, the next you kiss me, then you come back reeking of blood—how am I supposed to believe you?"
Qi Yan sat across from her, quiet for a long moment before speaking.
"It doesn't matter if you don't trust me. Trust yourself."
"What does that mean?"
"Trust whether your heart is beating faster right now."
"..."
Xi Yao had no retort.
Qi Yan's gaze lingered on the flush creeping up her ears, his smile faint. "Trust whether your eyes look a little unsteady."
She lowered her head, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Trust whether, for that one moment… you didn't hate my kiss."
Her head snapped up. "Don't push your luck!"
"I'm not." His voice was earnest. "I just want you to know—you're not entirely against me."
Xi Yao bit her lip, then suddenly smacked his arm.
"I thought you stopped being crazy! Why are you back to being insufferable?"
Qi Yan didn't dodge, letting her hit him.
He caught her wrist and pressed her palm to his chest. "Hit me all you want. Just don't cry."
"Who's crying?"
"Your eyes are red."
"Because you kissed me until I couldn't breathe!" She yanked her hand back.
Qi Yan remained unbothered, murmuring, "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But give me a reason."
"A reason?"
"Mn."
Her heart skipped. She didn't know how to answer.
Qi Yan waited. When no reply came, he leaned in, his voice a low rasp:
"Is it because even you don't know why you can't walk away?"
She shoved him back. "Stop twisting my words!"
But Qi Yan only laughed, reclining against the bed as he studied her. "Then tell me—why didn't you leave last night?"
"I—"
"You were afraid I'd die, weren't you?"
"I was afraid you'd haunt me as a ghost!"
"Then what about this morning? Why did you watch me all night?"
"I didn't!"
"You did."
"You—!" She was too furious to speak.
Qi Yan suddenly stood, scooping her into his arms.
"What are you doing?!" She thrashed.
"Taking you out."
"Aren't you supposed to be crazy? Where are we going?"
"Didn't you say I reek of blood?" His tone was flat. "We'll bask in the sun. Ward off evil spirits."
"Are you a corpse now?"
"I'm a madman."
He carried her outside, his steps firm, leaving no room for protest.
The door swung open, morning light spilling across the courtyard—warm and serene.
Xi Yao's struggles stilled as she froze, staring.
The courtyard was dotted with flowers, and a white plum tree had bloomed overnight, its branches dusted with sunlight.
She fell silent, simply watching.
Qi Yan set her down, his voice quiet:
"I don't know what you like. I don't know how to please you. But you love the sun, so I won't let you hide forever."
She pressed her lips together, refusing to answer.
Qi Yan turned to leave, his pace unhurried.
Xi Yao watched his retreating figure, suddenly unable to decipher him.
He wasn't just forcing her into submission anymore.
He was starting to… yield.
Maybe he truly was insane—but not the kind of madness that made him a monster.
She sat on the steps, cradling a cup of tea, her thoughts in turmoil.
In the distance, the sound of water—likely him washing up.
A breeze stirred, and a single plum blossom drifted into her hair.
She didn't brush it away.
As if she'd forgotten to run.
---
By afternoon, Qi Yan returned, clad in fresh robes.
He stopped before her, his tone calm:
"Tonight, I won't keep you. You can go."
Xi Yao looked up slowly.
"What?"
"You're free to leave," he said. "But don't make me chase you again. If that happens… I might not stay gentle."
His gaze was too intense, his entire demeanor terrifyingly composed.
Xi Yao said nothing.
Qi Yan turned and walked away, his back devoid of hesitation.
He left too decisively—as if he'd truly let go.
She remained rooted in place, her feet as if nailed to the ground, unable to take a single step.
She stared down at her palm, still faintly red where he'd gripped her, her chest… strangely tight.
His footsteps faded into the distance.
The wind tugged at her skirts, sunlight stretching her shadow long across the ground.
Yet her shadow still leaned slightly toward where he'd gone.
Finally, she whispered:
"Will you… come back?"
No answer came from afar.
Only the white plum tree swayed softly in the breeze.