The male lead, that elder brother who refuses to eat (59)

"Son, are you back?"

Si Jiu tried to poke the system, but there was no response. It seemed it had not returned yet.

She rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought.

The breeze from the balcony drifted through the room, brushing against her brow and eyes like a pair of gentle hands.

"Qi Yan?"

The "wind" became turbulent, swirling through her long hair and sweeping across her cheeks. Si Jiu narrowed her eyes, trying to grasp at something, but found nothing between her fingers save for a bitter chill.

Extreme gusts of wind swirled around her fingertips, as if responding to her, or perhaps trying to convey countless unspoken words and longings. It felt like a succession of desperate, aggrieved embraces.

Yet, she felt freezing cold.

"Qi Yan... you damn..."

For a "person" she could neither see, hear, nor touch, what was she supposed to do? What had gone wrong in Qi Yan's plane? And how had he managed to find his way to this world?

Son, if you don't come back soon, your old man is going to die.

Because it was truly, unbearably cold.

No sooner had these thoughts crossed her mind than the previously violent "wind" fell deathly silent, and she was suddenly freed.

"Qi..."

***

The sound of the door opening echoed from the foyer, followed by footsteps.

"Your Highness, I've retur—"

Charles's words came to an abrupt halt. His Highness was slumped in the sofa, the corners of his eyes flushed red.

His throat tightened, and a surge of uncontrollable emotion welled up within him, making his voice grow hoarse.

"Your Highness, what is wrong?"

Si Jiu shivered, her teeth chattering as she replied, "Cold..."

Only then did Charles notice how pale she was, her lips tinged with a faint, bruised blue.

"I'll get you a blanket," he said, rushing forward.

"...Come here."

Charles paused mid-step.

His reason told him that going to her now was a bad idea, but his body moved toward her with startling honesty.

The moment he reached her side, she threw herself into his arms.

The icy wind that had been prowling over her body finally retreated, though it lingered reluctantly around her earlobes and the nape of her neck, refusing to let go.

Si Jiu was annoyed to death, her tone petulant and imperious: "Do you even know how to hold someone? If not, bring Ah Yu over instead."

Charles, still stiff and flustered from being embraced so suddenly, felt a flare of irritation at her words. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed his other hand against the back of her head, pulling her into his chest with a forceful, intimate posture.

He closed his eyes and let out a long, silent breath. "Your Highness, do not provoke me."

Si Jiu felt a spark of amusement.

***

Truly, they were the same person. Look at that—the phrase was so familiar.

If that brat Qi Yan hadn't been clinging to her so tightly that he nearly froze her to death, she wouldn't have intended to provoke this persona, Charles, either.

Of course, her definition of "provocation" and Charles's definition were not the same thing at all.

What she considered a matter of pure necessity was, to Charles, likely a raging storm.

He gritted his teeth. "Do not provoke me..."

"I'm just borrowing your warmth," Si Jiu said, stealthily sliding her two ice-cold hands inside the back of his waist. She sighed in relief at the heat she encountered.

Unbeknownst to her, her face was buried against his chest.

That sigh nearly cost Charles half his life.

"I think you are truly wicked!"

The words were squeezed out, one by one, through gritted teeth.

"Mm... many people say that," she replied indifferently. "So, does that make you hate me?"

"You could be even more wicked."

He suddenly raised her chin and leaned down to kiss her. "My apologies."

Your Highness, I no longer wish to hold back.