Jiang Nuan looked at Bai Siyuan standing before her, dazed for a moment.
He was too close. His breath brushed the wisps of hair over her forehead, again and again.
The cold door pressed against her back, reminding her that the lounge door had been locked.
One of Bai Siyuan’s hands was braced against her waist, while the other still held her wrist, leaving her no room even to turn around.
This person… seemed somewhat different from the Bai Siyuan she knew.
Whether in the fragmented memories that had returned bit by bit or during the time after she lost her memory, when he took her back to the Bai family, he had always been gentle and considerate.
Even though she had felt that her brother’s kindness was hypocritical, at least the version of himself he showed the world had always been the gentle one who thought of everything for her.
But there was something in his eyes now that she had never seemed to see before—and yet it also felt strangely familiar.
She had seen that look in her fragments of memory. Although he had hidden it well most of the time, back then she had simply thought it was the concern of an older brother for his younger sister.
But she had seen that exact same thing in other people’s eyes, too.
In Lu Shiyan’s eyes, and in those of Ye Que, Shen Wu, Qinian, Qi Sui, and Jiang Ce.
The desire to draw close and touch her, then never let her go again.
Bai Siyuan had simply hidden it too deeply before. So deeply that only now could she finally see what lay beneath.
“Brother?” she called tentatively, her voice trembling slightly.
She did not want to interpret him that way.
During the hardest years, they had been the only people each other could hold on to.
That was precisely why, when he revealed a side of himself she had never truly seen, she was especially afraid.
She was not afraid of him.
She was afraid that the closeness they had once shared—something no one else could ever replace—would be pushed by this step into a place from which there would be no turning back.
Bai Siyuan’s Adam’s apple moved. “Mm.”
His reply was low, and his eyes never left her face.
The tone of that single syllable did not sound like a response to his sister’s call.
“Let me go first.” Jiang Nuan forced her voice to remain calm.
Bai Siyuan looked at her and instead tightened his hold around her waist.
Through the thin fabric of her clothes, she could clearly feel the heat of his palm. It was unnaturally hot.
“A Nuan,” he murmured. “Do you really think I’m only your brother?”
Jiang Nuan’s fingers curled tightly into her palms.
She wanted to say of course.
But before the words could leave her mouth, the final line in that black, leather-bound notebook surfaced in her mind.
[She should belong to me alone.]
At the time, she had only felt bitter, thinking that he had suffered too much all those years and had therefore written down his dependence on his family in such heavy terms.
But now that she thought about it, those were not words a brother would use for his sister.
Jiang Nuan suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
“Brother.” She drew a deep breath and tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. “You’ve been trapped in this restricted zone for too long. Your emotions are unstable. We should—”
“I don’t want you to call me that.”
“…”
Jiang Nuan’s mind went blank with a buzz.
Good heavens. Had the restricted zone driven Bai Siyuan insane?
Bai Siyuan said nothing more.
The hand holding her wrist loosened. He raised it and brushed his fingers against the side of her neck.
Then he stopped there, slowly rubbing back and forth.
It was the spot where that collar had once rested.
A fine shiver spread across the back of Jiang Nuan’s neck.
She suddenly remembered that not long after she had brought Bai Siyuan back from the White Whale to the Zero Squad’s base, he had briefly glanced toward the neckline of her clothes while they were talking outside the training grounds.
At the time, she had thought she had adjusted her clothes quickly enough.
Now that she thought about it, he had probably seen everything long ago.
That explained why he had later pressured the Investigation Department so urgently, using the Bai family’s alliance with the Federation to separate her from the members of the Zero Squad and take her back to the Bai family.
So that was how it was.
Bai Siyuan really had been worried about her.
His fingers remained at her neck. At first, he had merely pressed them against her skin with restraint, but suddenly, the pressure grew heavier.
The moonlight outside the window wavered.
Jiang Nuan immediately sensed that something was wrong.
Bai Siyuan still wore that same pale, gentle expression.
But the sliver of lucidity he had managed to reclaim was fading. It was as if the restraint within him were being devoured bit by bit by the shadows that filled the restricted zone.
“Brother?”
She called out again.
This time, she was practically begging him.
Come back a little. Don’t go any farther.
Bai Siyuan did not respond.
He stared at the side of her neck, his gaze darkening into blackness.
It was as if, through the mark that had long since disappeared, he could see something he could not bear to accept.
A scene in which someone else’s name existed.
A scene in which someone else had left marks on her body—marks he had been unable to erase at once.
The lounge was so quiet that they could hear each other breathing.
Half the moon outside was hidden behind clouds, making it even dimmer.
“We should be the closest people in the world to each other, A Nuan.”
His tone was gentle.
But the moment he finished speaking, his lips came down hard against the side of her neck.
His arm locked tightly around Jiang Nuan’s waist, leaving her nowhere to retreat.
Her mind went blank for an instant.
The warm pressure against her skin was so forceful that her back struck the door with a muffled thud.
This wasn’t Bai Siyuan… not the man who would crouch down to put slippers on her feet, or meticulously record her preferences one by one in that black notebook.
The man who would sneak into the side courtyard late at night with red-bean pastries for her, who would listen to her talk about stories from the Old World—he wasn’t like this.
She pressed her hand against his chest. Beneath her palm, his heartbeat was wild and hurried.
“Brother!”
Her cheeks flared hot in an instant.
How could he…
And he showed no sign of stopping. Instead, he pressed closer.
“Bai Siyuan!” Her voice trembled as she shoved hard against his chest.
Bai Siyuan suddenly went rigid, as if her cry had finally pulled him back from the chaos in his mind.
Slowly, he raised his head. His gaze fell on the red corners of her eyes and the side of her neck, and his lashes trembled.
But the arm around Jiang Nuan’s waist did not loosen.
It was as if he knew that the moment he let go, she would turn and walk out through that door, never to return.
He rested his forehead against her shoulder. Beneath his ragged breathing came a hoarse, trembling voice.
“A Nuan, I… I’m sorry.”
Jiang Nuan said nothing. The back of her head pressed against the door as she stared at the ceiling lamp overhead.
The bitterness in her heart had nearly risen into her throat.
Perhaps she should have realized it long ago.
Or perhaps she had always known, only choosing to deceive herself—forcing Bai Siyuan’s feelings, which should never have existed between siblings, into an explanation of the dependence born from having only each other.
Jiang Nuan’s thoughts were in turmoil, but she did not dare question him now.
At least for the moment, although Bai Siyuan’s state was clearly abnormal, he was still willing to stop and listen to her.
Whatever happened, she needed to find a way out first, then reunite with Qi Sui and Qinian.
“Brother,” she said. “Could you… let go of me first? We can sit down and talk.”
“You’ll leave me.”
“I’m locked inside this room right now.” She tried to keep her tone light. “Where exactly do you think I could go?”
Bai Siyuan fell silent for a moment.
Then, very slowly, he loosened his hold.
But he only released her enough for her to turn slightly.
Jiang Nuan lifted her head and looked at him.
The light made his face look even paler. There were still dried bloodstains on his shirt, though it was impossible to tell whether they were his or belonged to someone—or something—else.
Jiang Nuan stared at the blood, and a faint unease suddenly stirred in her heart.
Most of the things she had encountered in the restricted zone leaked a murky, blackish fluid that reeked of decay.
But the blood on Bai Siyuan’s shirtfront was far too red—too much like the blood of a living person. And he didn’t appear to have any wounds.
Jiang Nuan’s heart gave a jolt. She was just about to take a closer look when—
The last sliver of moonlight outside the window was swallowed by the clouds.
Pop.
The light in the room flickered twice, then went out completely.
In the final instant before darkness descended, Jiang Nuan saw Bai Siyuan raise his eyes again.
The brief clarity that had returned to his gaze seemed to go out with the light, sinking back into the darkness.
