Hot flashes

Zhou Heng felt like he was suffocating.

It wasn't just the physical oppression of being tightly bound in a burning embrace, but also a kind of inescapable panic and shame that seeped from the very bones.

He was like a small animal caught by the scruff of its neck, unable to move, frozen in vain, every inch of his skin screaming silently.

Time became viscous and drawn out. Every tiny movement challenged his nerves, which were on the verge of collapse.

He even began to feel absurdly fortunate that at least he was still wearing his undergarment, and that there were at least two layers of fabric between those damned things—even if the fabric was as thin as paper and conveyed almost all the details that made him want to disappear on the spot.

It felt like hundreds of bees were buzzing around in my head. One moment it was, "What the hell is going on?", the next it was, "How long has it been? Xiao Jue is too amazing."

He even tried to sneak forward a tiny bit, even just an inch, just to slightly widen that fatal distance.

However, the moment he made the slightest movement, the arms around his waist tightened silently, pressing him back into place without any room for doubt, even more tightly than before.

Zhou Heng was so frightened that he froze instantly, forgetting even to breathe.

Behind him, Xiao Jue's breathing remained steady and long, and he even let out a very faint breath, as if he were sleeping soundly.

Zhou Heng's heart, which had been in his throat, trembled and slowly settled back down.

He dared not move again, resignedly remaining in that awkward and agonizing position, his eyes fixed on the blurry shadows above the tent, trying to numb himself in this way.

However, the sensations in my body became increasingly clear.

As the morning light shone through the gaps in the tent flaps, it gradually became brighter, and the outlines of the objects inside the tent became clearer.

This brought no comfort; instead, it made Zhou Heng even more exposed.

Just when he felt he couldn't hold on any longer and was considering whether to pretend to be possessed by a nightmare and suddenly sit up to "wake up" in order to break the deadlock—

Behind him, Xiao Jue's breathing rhythm finally changed very slightly.

The long, drawn-out breath paused for a moment, then slowly deepened, as if gradually waking from a deep sleep.

The arms wrapped around Zhou Heng's waist seemed to loosen their grip slightly as his consciousness returned.

coming!

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine, and his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.

He immediately closed his eyes tightly, summoning all his acting skills—if they could be called acting skills—and trying to make his breathing sound even and long, relaxing his body, pretending that he was still immersed in a dream.

He could sense the movement of the person behind him.

Xiao Jue seemed to move his head slightly, probably to check the light inside the tent.

Then, the arm that was draped around his waist slowly, with a hint of languor and hesitation from just waking up, began to pull away.

Her fingertips brushed against the thin undergarment at Zhou Heng's waist, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

Zhou Heng gritted his teeth and tried his best to endure it.

He completely pulled his arm back. Behind him came the rustling sound of clothes rubbing against the bedding; Xiao Jue had sat up.

Zhou Heng held his breath, pricked up his ears, and his muscles were still slightly sore and trembling from the long period of stiffness.

He felt Xiao Jue's gaze fall on him and linger for a moment.

The gaze was so tangible that it made the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. He tried his best to maintain his "sleeping" posture, not daring to even twitch his eyelids.

A few breaths later, he looked away.

Then came the soft sound of Xiao Jue getting out of bed, the almost inaudible sound of bare feet stepping on the carpet, followed by the sound of his outer robe being picked up and rustling as it was put on.

Only when the footsteps faded away from the inner room and reached the outer room did Zhou Heng dare to exhale, extremely slowly and cautiously, a breath of stale air that had been held in for too long and had almost made him faint.

He still didn't dare to open his eyes immediately, and waited for a while in the same lying position. After confirming that he could hear the sound of water outside and Xiao Jue's clear words in a low voice instructing his guards to prepare the horses, he suddenly opened his eyes and gasped for breath like a fish out of water.

My whole body was soaked in cold sweat, and my undershirt clung stickily to my skin. The areas on my waist and back where I had been touched or pressed against still retained a distinct, lingering sensation.

He sat up in a fluster, looked down at himself, and quickly pulled the blanket over himself, his face burning hot.

His mind was a complete mess. Every detail of what had just happened was replaying in his mind, assaulting his fragile senses.

He shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about it.

He quickly got up, put on his outer robe, hastily rolled up his bedding and hugged it to his chest, then staggered out of the inner room.

Outside, Xiao Jue was already dressed and his wristbands were being tightened by his personal guards.

The morning light fell on his profile, revealing him as the cold, dignified, and unapproachable Marquis of Zhenbei, as if everything that had just happened on the bed was merely a bizarre dream of Zhou Heng.

Hearing the noise, Xiao Jue turned his head and glanced indifferently at Zhou Heng's pale face and messy hair.

"Awake?" His tone was normal, even more casual than usual during meetings. "Did you sleep well?"

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine and quickly lowered his head to avoid his gaze. His voice was dry and hoarse: "It's...it's alright. Thank you for your concern, Lord Marquis...I'm a restless sleeper. Please forgive me if I have disturbed you."

"It's alright." Xiao Jue turned around and let his guards drape a cloak over him. "I slept soundly."

He fastened the sash of his cloak and walked toward the tent entrance. As he passed Zhou Heng, he paused slightly, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Zhou Heng's still-reddened ears and tightly pursed lips.