Under their brief loss of control, those feelings—strange yet familiar, impossible to suppress—burst forth, and they wanted to touch each other more.
Yu Sui's breathing grew uneven, but she lowered her eyes and gazed steadily at the person before her.
She reached out, threaded her fingers through the man's hair, and leaned close to whisper in Mei Chengyu's ear. "Senior Martial Brother, I meant what I said."
Mei Chengyu understood her instantly. Their temples brushed, and he gave a low, amused laugh.
There were only two people to whom Yu Sui had made a definite promise.
The first was Zhongli Que. The second was Mei Chengyu.
Mei Chengyu considered himself highly talented. He learned quickly, and cultivation had never seemed to trouble him. Still, he set goals for himself and took them seriously.
Whatever he wanted, he always got. Whether it was winning his master's affection and indulgence or deciding to recover his memories, he could do it.
When he couldn't suppress his urge to destroy and wanted to break something, he could even find a dangerous entity in Taiyi's treasured ancient texts and release it.
But Mei Chengyu had never wanted anything so very, very, very badly.
Not until Yu Sui said those words. Then he learned what it meant to be unable to wait. Whenever he occasionally rested with his eyes closed, he would find himself thinking of that moment—the tone and expression with which she spoke, and the way his heart had pounded when he heard her promise.
It was a fascinating sensation, so novel that it left him utterly captivated.
Mei Chengyu knew himself well. Once he got many things, he lost interest in them. Take cultivation, for instance, or the academy's trials and challenges. What he wanted was the thrill of conquering them and the