Was Zhu Zhuqing the One Who Took the Initiative?

He took a deep breath. His tense shoulders unconsciously relaxed, and the bitter smile at the corners of his lips gradually turned into a helpless one.

"Should I carry you over?"

Yang Jian asked softly. Since she was already awake, he had to ask for her opinion.

"No."

Zhu Zhuqing gently shook her head, her voice even softer than before, as though afraid of disturbing the morning's peace.

"I've slept enough, so... put me down first."

By the time she reached the last few words, her voice was barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.

After all, she was still a girl. Even though she trusted Yang Jian completely, she could not maintain her usual coolness in such an intimate, almost ambiguous situation.

She turned her head slightly aside, not daring to meet Yang Jian's gaze. Yet a faint blush had already quietly crept onto her crystal-clear earlobes.

That crimson color spread from her earlobes, gradually dyeing her ears red before trailing down her fair neck and vanishing beneath the collar of her black leather outfit.

She bit her lower lip tightly, her eyelashes trembling slightly, looking embarrassed enough to want to flee but with nowhere to run.

Hearing this, Yang Jian withdrew the left arm supporting Zhu Zhuqing's legs and steadily set her down.

However, as he pulled back his left arm, his right arm, which had been supporting Zhu Zhuqing's neck, inevitably slid downward and landed on her graceful waist.

Even through the layer of black leather, Yang Jian could still clearly feel the warmth against his palm, as well as the softness and resilience hidden beneath the outfit.

Her waist was so slender that it seemed like it could be held in one hand, yet it contained the firmness and strength unique to a soul master. Like green bamboo swaying in the wind, it looked delicate but was truly resilient.

The contact lasted only an instant—Yang Jian's fingertips had barely brushed her waist before he pulled his hand back as if shocked.

Yet in that split second, that strange sensation had already been deeply engraved in his memory, impossible to dispel no matter what he did.

"Hungry?"

Yang Jian cleared his throat, deliberately making his voice sound calmer.

He turned around and walked toward the tent entrance as he spoke.

"I'll go prepare breakfast first."

After saying that, he lifted the tent flap and slipped out as if fleeing, without waiting for Zhu Zhuqing's response.

Morning light washed over him, carrying the scent of grass and dew.

Yang Jian stood outside the tent and took a deep breath of the morning air. Only then did he feel his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

He looked back at the tent behind him. Remembering what had just happened, he could not help shaking his head, though a helpless curve unconsciously appeared on his lips.

Inside the tent, the composure Zhu Zhuqing had forced herself to maintain finally collapsed the instant Yang Jian left.

Her legs went weak, and she sank to her knees. Her hands braced against the ground as her chest rose and fell violently.

Her cool, beautiful face flushed visibly. The red spread from her cheeks to her forehead, from her forehead to her neck, and even her collarbones beneath her collar were stained with a faint crimson hue.

She lowered her head and stared at her slightly trembling fingers, her mind in complete chaos.

In truth, she had awakened even earlier than Yang Jian.

Days of pursuit had left her with a habit that was hard to change—she would wake as soon as dawn broke. No matter how exhausted her body was, her consciousness would become alert the moment the first ray of light passed through her eyelids.

It was the instinct that had kept her alive during her escape, and the mark those nightmare-like days had left upon her.

When she opened her eyes and discovered herself curled up in Yang Jian's arms, her first reaction was not anger, but an indescribable shyness.

That shyness came without reason, yet it was so intense that she could barely breathe.

She could clearly feel Yang Jian's steady heartbeat, the warmth from his chest, and his arm tightly held in her embrace.

All of it made her heart race as though it were about to leap from her chest.

And that shyness reached its peak when she realized that she herself had been the one to crawl into Yang Jian's arms.

She vaguely remembered feeling a chill in her sleep last night.

The cold autumn night air seeped through the tent cloth, making her tremble uncontrollably as she curled up in the corner.

Half-asleep, she instinctively moved toward warmth. Only after touching something warm, solid, and carrying a faint clean scent did she finally fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

That something was Yang Jian.

This realization made Zhu Zhuqing so embarrassed that she nearly wanted to crawl into a crack in the ground.

She was the third young lady of the Zhu Family of the Star Luo Empire, yet she had actually crawled into the arms of an unfamiliar man in her sleep. If word got out, she would never be able to face anyone again.

She had originally planned to quietly leave while Yang Jian was still asleep, pretending none of this had ever happened.

But to her surprise, before she could even release the hand wrapped around Yang Jian's arm, Yang Jian slowly woke up.

At one moment, his steady breathing rhythm suddenly changed. She could feel his body stiffen slightly—he was awake.

With no other choice, she could only pretend to sleep, closing her eyes, slowing her breathing, and acting as if she were still deeply asleep.

Then, she "experienced" the entire process of Yang Jian carefully pulling his arm free—that nearly reverent caution, that gentleness as though he feared disturbing a butterfly, filled her heart with an indescribable warmth.

Then he picked her up, and she woke up at just the "right" moment.

She had not expected this, but it seemed... not bad?

The moment that thought surfaced in her mind without warning, Zhu Zhuqing startled herself.

She fiercely shook her head, her long hair carving an arc through the air, as if she wanted to fling that bold thought away.

But the thought seemed to have taken root, firmly embedding itself in her mind, impossible to drive away.

It took her more than ten full minutes to calm her heartbeat, and the flush on her face gradually faded as well.

Facing the inner wall of the tent, she repeatedly checked her expression, doing her best to restore her former cold demeanor.

Zhu Zhuqing took a deep breath, lifted the tent flap, and stepped outside.

Morning light fell over her, carrying the warmth and brightness unique to autumn.

Though it was still the same place as yesterday, it no longer seemed barren or wretched today. Perhaps it was because she was with Yang Jian?

Zhu Zhuqing looked toward Yang Jian, who was roasting meat beside the campfire. Even she did not notice the corners of her lips rising uncontrollably.

"Breakfast will be ready soon. Come over and eat."

Yang Jian's voice came from nearby. Zhu Zhuqing looked over and saw him crouching before the campfire, holding up a roasted rabbit already sizzling with grease.