Lu Shiyan held her and turned toward the other side of the living room.
The apartment was frighteningly quiet. The only sounds were the soft thuds of his shoes against the wooden floor and the erratic beating of two hearts.
He walked straight to the enormous floor-to-ceiling window and set her down on the sofa beside it.
The sofa was soft, its leather surface cold.
The chill traveled up from the skin of her legs, making her shiver involuntarily.
Jiang Nuan instinctively tried to pull down the hem of her shirt, then remembered that she couldn’t do that right now.
Behind her stretched the entire nightscape of Whale Harbor City.
Millions of lights streamed through the cold glass, trapping her inside an endless web woven from illumination.
She could even imagine that anyone looking out from the windows of any building across the way would be able to see this sofa.
And the person on it—unable to sit upright, awkwardly pitching forward.
The illusion of being exposed beneath the vast open sky sent a numbness crawling across her scalp.
The light was dim. Everything indoors had been reduced to indistinct, dangerous outlines.
Lu Shiyan bent over her.
He seemed to see through all her fears.
Not only her fear of what lay beyond the window, but also her fear of him.
“Are you afraid?”
His voice was low, touched with a trace of amusement.
Jiang Nuan bit her lip and said nothing.
Afraid?
Of course.
But it wasn’t only fear.
“This is one-way.”
As if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Lu Shiyan softened his voice.
“This city is nothing more than your audience.”
A shiver spread up Jiang Nuan’s back.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. The heat rushed into her cheeks.
Beyond the window, behind every one of those countless glowing panes, were pairs of silent eyes.
They were the city itself—the abnormal energy that made up this world, an extension of Lu Shiyan’s power.
The cold glass, the man before her… Everything had begun to feel unreal, like a strange and dazzling dream.
Was it dangerous?
Of course.
But in a dream, danger was only another kind of experience.
“You…” Jiang Nuan’s voice trembled slightly. At last, she found the ability to speak again. “You really are a madman.”
“Perhaps.”
Lu Shiyan did not deny it.
He watched her for two seconds, then bent down and kissed her.
Unable to hold him, she could only clutch at the leather of the sofa.
She tilted her head back and accepted his kiss.
Lu Shiyan was a madman.
And she herself seemed to be on the verge of madness.
No class had ever taught her how to remain rational in a situation like this.
His hands did not remain idle.
One hand clasped the back of her neck, while the other slowly came to rest on the white shirt she wore—a shirt that belonged to him.
His kiss moved downward, traveling from her lips along her jaw.
Outside, the neon lights flowed across the glass like a grand, silent fireworks display.
Jiang Nuan tilted her head back and saw the patches of light reflected from the window swaying gently across the ceiling.
“Every day I’ve spent here…” His lips brushed her cheek. “I’ve been confirming one thing.”
“Confirming what?” she heard herself ask.
So even the all-powerful Zero Squad Captain had things he needed to confirm—things he was uncertain of?
“Confirming that I’m still alive,” he said.
Jiang Nuan’s heart sank as she thought of the three chairs that had never once been pulled out.
Under his arrangements, the others could still lie low together, becoming proof of one another’s existence during their missions.
But as their sole commander, he had been forced to play the role of Governor Lu alone, isolated at the peak of power, without a single person beside him with whom he could share the weight of these four hundred days.
Jiang Nuan’s voice was a little hoarse. “You’ve been in this world… too long.”
The breath against her cheek stilled.
Silence lingered for a moment.
“Mm.”
“After enough time passes, sometimes I can’t tell anymore.”
He paused.
“Whether I’m also just another part of this world.”
It was the first time Jiang Nuan had heard uncertainty in Lu Shiyan’s voice.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
She wanted to tell him, You’re real. Of course you are.
But the words felt too light.
“But you’re different, Jiang Nuan.”
He spoke before she could.
Lifting his head slightly, he looked into her eyes.
The city’s countless lights were reflected in them, but brighter than all those lights was something she had never seen on Lu Shiyan’s face before.
A desire that was almost dangerous.
“Your breathing, your heartbeat—they’re alive. They’re real.”
His voice sounded like both a command and an invitation.
“Now, help me confirm it.”
Jiang Nuan looked at him.
She looked at the lights reflected in his eyes—and at her own reflection there.
Then she leaned forward slightly.
Her forehead came to rest gently against his.
It was the only response she could give him now.
I’m here. You’re real.
