Ironclad, died and resurrected, I've decided to go to the mic!

Xing watched as March 7th rushed out of Qiye's room.

There was something strange on his face; he didn't even pick up his camera bag when he dropped it while running.

She crouched down, picked up the camera bag, dusted it off, and then looked up at Qi Ye's door.

The door was ajar.

Xing hung her camera bag on a hook in the hallway and pushed open the door.

Qi Ye lay naked on the bed

There are words on his chest

"Lord Silver Wolf was here."

Xing stood by the bed, arms crossed, and stared at the woman for a long while before clicking her tongue.

Goodness.

This guy on March 7th usually seems pretty serious, but I never expected him to be so playful in private.

Playing with someone is one thing, but writing their name on their body is another. What kind of strange possessiveness is this?

Writing another person's name on your body, isn't that NTR?

When she ran out covering her face, she still had "..." on her lips, so she must have had a lot of fun.

But to just play and then leave without cleaning up is incredibly unprofessional.

She shook her head, sighed, and turned to walk towards the door.

He took a couple of steps, then turned back, reached out and wiped away the remaining clump.

I held it up to my eyes to examine it closely, rubbed it, and then smelled it.

"He looks quite healthy."

After she finished her analysis, she looked down at Qi Ye's face, which was sleeping soundly and completely unguarded.

Then he turned around, pushed open the door and left, and when he came back, he had a wet towel in his hand.

She wiped him down from head to toe.

Finally, I opened the small wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a clean set of pajamas.

She reached out and pulled Qiye out of bed.

First, put on the top of your pajamas, then put on the bottoms.

After dressing him, I put him back on the pillow, covered him with the blanket, and took two steps back to examine him closely.

He was clean and tidy from head to toe, with nothing unusual about him except for his slightly messy hair.

She nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave the room.

She hadn't been gone long when footsteps echoed down the corridor again.

March 7th walked in quickly, the water droplets on her face just wiped away, and the towel was still clutched in her hand.

She had washed her face three times, but the tips of her ears were still red, and her heart was beating as fast as if she had just run 800 meters.

She pondered repeatedly in her mind how to explain it.

The door wasn't locked; she pushed it open.

Then she stood by the bed, as if she had been put on pause.

The entire room was cleaned and organized.

Qi Ye was still lying peacefully in bed, dressed neatly in her pajamas, with a rosy complexion.

There was even a faint smile on her lips, as if she were having a sweet dream.

March 7th's mind is racing!

Who was it? Who else on the train would pass by his room in the middle of the night and clean it up so thoroughly?

Dan Heng? Impossible, Dan Heng never enters Qi Ye's room.

Pam? No, I saw her before!

Himeko-nee?

The image of Himeko walking in with a smile, seeing everything, and then silently cleaning up for Suzuya flashed through her mind.

Her face completely exploded.

She turned and rushed out of the room, nearly pinching her own fingers as she closed the door.

……

Qiye finally woke up.

He first felt his consciousness slowly returning to his body.

Then I could still taste the bitterness of coffee in my mouth.

But what puzzled him most was another feeling.

He felt a strange chill in his lower body, as if he had experienced some physiological changes in his sleep.

His first reaction was: I had a wet dream.

This thought made him sit up abruptly, throw off the covers, and look down.

There was nothing there; everything was normal, with no abnormal traces whatsoever.

He breathed a sigh of relief, slumped back onto the pillow, stared at the ceiling for a long while, and muttered:

"Thank goodness. I didn't embarrass myself."

But when he looked down to examine it, he discovered a new problem.

"Who gave me this to wear?"

He muttered to himself,

"I was able to dress myself while I was unconscious?"

No, I clearly remember collapsing while wearing my coat. Who came into my room?

He looked around, and everything was so clean it didn't look like the room he had lived in.

He touched the back of his head, then touched his face.

Then he felt a dry sensation on his cheeks, like they had been wiped with a towel.

Someone wiped his face.

He looked down at his chest again, as if he had just taken a shower.

He then looked at his lower abdomen, which was equally clean, and even smelled of residual shower gel.

He was silent for a while.

Then he pulled the blanket up to his chin, looking like he didn't want to pursue the matter.

"Never mind. Nothing's missing anyway."

"Just being alive is enough. A man who's died fifty times has seen it all."

[Seeking free gifts, I hope everyone can show their support by looking at this guy!]