In silence, they held each other for a while.
Che Quan gradually settled his emotions, his gaze turning cool and indifferent again.
"You can let go now," Che Quan reminded Jiang Cong quietly, enunciating every word. "I don't need comforting."
Something so trivial hardly warranted much emotion from him.
Jiang Cong fell silent for a moment, then gave a gentle hum of agreement, but did not release Che Quan.
He asked Che Quan softly, "Do you want to know what happened afterward?"
Che Quan remained still. He paused at the question, then realized Jiang Cong meant what had happened after he had sternly rejected Dess in the memory.
Perhaps that held the truth behind his slumber.
Che Quan considered it, then replied listlessly, "I have no appetite."
Even Jiang Cong's blood, usually so delicious and tempting, seemed unable to stir much interest in him now.
If learning about the past meant drinking blood to read memories, he probably had neither the energy nor the inclination right now.
"That's all right. You don't have to do anything."
Jiang Cong's voice was low, brimming with a tenderness that seemed ready to spill over and envelop Che Quan.
Che Quan said nothing, inexplicably feeling as though some damaged part of him had been soothed.
Yet there was plainly nothing damaged anywhere on his body, and he had never been a coward who needed soothing.
Che Quan pressed his lips together, his fangs slowly retracting a little.
He gave a low hum of assent.
Then Jiang Cong raised a hand and gently covered Che Quan's eyes. Drowsiness swept over Che Quan at once. Without giving it much thought, he yielded to that weariness and slipped into memories that unfolded like a dream.
He was still an observer.
He could only float in midair as