The starry sky unfurled above the city like a cup of deep blue sweet wine, shimmering with a crisp, snow-kissed glow.

A passenger plane glowed with neon halos, trailing a faint luminous streak across the heavens—its origin and destination unknown.

Luo Qingchuan held Chen Yanyu’s tender hand, soaring with her through misty, smoke-like clouds.

Her fingers were soft and slender, seemingly boneless; a faintly cool yet warm tremor lingered in his palm.

“Where… are we going?”

Silver strands brushed her snow-white neck. Luo Qingchuan noticed Chen Yanyu’s petite ears flushed translucent pink, golden eyes darting away shyly.

The sacred dragon horns had vanished. A crimson bloodstain marked her forehead—Luo Qingchuan’s blood—adding a sharp elegance to her otherwise innocent, breathtaking beauty.

“To my place,” Luo Qingchuan said.

Chen Yanyu’s creamy-white knit sweater rose slightly. Surprise rippled in her eyes as she bit her lip. “Y-Your place?!”

“Yes.”

Realizing his phrasing, he smiled gently. “Don’t worry. My family’s elsewhere. It’s just my hideout—empty.”

Instead, Chen Yanyu bit her lip until crimson bloomed, eyes widening innocently. “No one? A hideout? You… you want me to spend the night?!”

“Mm? What’s wrong?” Luo Qingchuan asked bluntly. “We have to rest somewhere tonight.”

Even her exquisitely delicate neck flushed with shyness.

She lowered her gaze to the city lights below, voice barely a whisper: “In the dramas I watch… when the leads ‘spend the night’… they…"

“And?”

“H-Hold each other…”

Watching her blushing profile, he couldn’t help but ask, “Where?”

“…" Tears welled in her eyes. “O-On the bed…"

He finally understood. This girl was pure to a fault.

Yet—

Strangely tempting.

Luo Qingchuan smiled teasingly. “Then what?”

“Waa… I don’t know, I really don’t!” She shook her head, cheeks burning, casting him a pitiful glance. “Can I… not stay?”

“No.”

His tone softened but stayed firm. “It’s dangerous out there. You must come with me tonight.”

“You… you big…"

“Hmm?”

“Big meanie…"

She squeezed his hand tightly in retaliation.

Luo Qingchuan winced, face paling. “Easy! Miss Chen—I’m injured!”

“Then stop teasing me,” she murmured, voice thick with plaintive sweetness.

A single tear traced her cheek. Her heart hammered—flustered, shy, yet tinged with quiet curiosity.

In one day, she’d lost count of how many times this boy made her cry.

Hand in hand, they drifted through moonlit clouds. Chen Yanyu’s fairy-like grace grew ever more delicately luminous.

Amidst her snow-white hair, her gentle, blushing innocence struck Luo Qingchuan as a third kind of breathtaking beauty.

His heart softened beyond expectation. “Just one night,” he murmured. “To hide.”

“R-Really?” she whispered.

“Evilbane and the police are here. Tomorrow I’ve got the school aptitude test—I don’t want statements, supervision, all that.”

“So we lay low.”

“But you saved people… got hurt… and they’d arrest you?” Chen Yanyu stared, bewildered.

“No choice. I’m a demonic cultivator. To them, I’m unstable. People love labels.”

“Why?”

“Understanding someone takes effort,” Luo Qingchuan said slowly, each word weighted. “Time. Risk of betrayal. So everyone stays distant… afraid.”

Chen Yanyu’s lips trembled, recalling her own misjudgment. “Doesn’t that hurt you?”

“We learn to accept things,” he smiled faintly. “Like how you were confined in the Dragon Palace for over a decade.”

That only made her eyes well up again.

“That was unavoidable for me… but you’re *good*…" Her voice quivered.

Luo Qingchuan simply smiled, unruffled.

Chen Yanyu watched him, heart fluttering wildly.

Slowly, he guided her down toward a secluded villa on the city’s edge.

Bathed in liquid night, the building slept like a black cat in a quiet alley.

He released her hand. Shadows coiled around his fingers, wiping dried blood away. Fingerprint unlocked the door.

Chen Yanyu stood frozen beside him, nerves tight.

*Because… it’s late. He’s bringing me home.*

Warm amber light flooded the room as he stepped inside.

He turned. Chen Yanyu stood silhouetted in the glow—hands clutching her skirt, hesitant, vulnerable.

Just like outside the bar.

A wave of tenderness washed over him.

So—

Bathed in golden light, Luo Qingchuan gently extended his hand once more into the night.

“Come.”

Chen Yanyu hesitated, then lowered her head and slipped her small hand into his warm, steady one.

Silently, she stepped inside.

Warmth traveled from her palm up her slender arm, seeping gently into her heart.

She gazed at his back. Her golden eyes brightened like sunlit honey. A soft, adoring smile bloomed.

Luo Qingchuan flipped on every light.

He led her to a glass door and pushed it open.

Chen Yanyu’s smile froze. She stiffened like a startled rabbit. “Why bring me here?”

“To bathe,” he said casually, glancing at her slender frame—the thin knit sweater stained with a blooming crimson rose pattern, making her look heartbreakingly delicate.

“Take it off. I’ll wash it for you.”

She yanked her hand back, shrinking into the corner, flustered. “N-No! I can do it myself! Really!”

Luo Qingchuan pressed his lips, then let out a quiet chuckle—*too late*.

“Luo Qingchuan! Don’t treat me like a fool!” Her voice wobbled with wounded pride. “I may be new to the human world… but I’m not *that* clueless!”

He cleared his throat. “I meant the washing machine. For your sweater. And—there’s another bathroom upstairs. I’ll use that. Separate.”

Her butterfly-like lashes trembled. Head bowed, she asked in a soft, sweet murmur:

“…Did you say that on purpose… to make me misunderstand?”

…