So he raised his uninjured hand and stroked Chu Xuanzhen's face.
He rose onto his toes and leaned his head forward, his eyes shimmering as he pressed his lips against Chu Xuanzhen's cool ones.
This was the first time he had responded to Chu Xuanzhen as an ordinary person.
It was also the first time he had wanted to give the first person he had ever loved the purest possible answer.
He liked him.
Chu Xuanzhen's pupils contracted slightly, his breathing quickening. His mouth was filled with the taste of Shen Yangge's blood, familiar yet strangely intoxicating.
They kissed without restraint on the chaotic battlefield, holding each other with their most burning feelings.
As though no one could ever tear them apart.
Not the rules of this world, nor anyone in it.
Shen Yangge lowered his injured hand, drew away from Chu Xuanzhen's lips, and whispered into his ear, "Your Highness, my heart belongs to you."
"I want us to cherish each other as husband and husband."
I want to live in this world, to see you ascend the throne, to grow old with you.
"I like you."
Once he had spoken the words buried in the deepest recesses of his heart, Shen Yangge felt an immense weight lift from him. Perhaps he should have said them long ago.
Affection grew little by little; love meant staying by each other's side.
In his world, there would never be another Chu Xuanzhen. If he gave up the chance to confess his feelings because of death, he knew he would regret it.
He also knew that Chu Xuanzhen would suffer because of his death. Yet he had a vague feeling that, within this original novel, things that should never have appeared or happened were appearing and happening.
Perhaps he could fight for