Chapter 309 Fleeing in Panic

Chapter 309: Fleeing in Panic

The cool sensation still lingered at the corner of his lips, and his heartbeat was so loud it threatened to pound right through his eardrums.

His hands got even more frantic and fumbling, but his unruly hair seemed dead set on screwing with him, tangling tighter and tighter into a hopeless knot.

Cui Ji slowly sat up as well. His movements remained steady, but upon closer inspection, one could notice the faint tremor in his fingertips and a faint flush creeping up the tips of his ears.

He watched Cheng Ge, who looked ready to rip his own hair out, and after a moment of silence, reached out his hand.

"Don't move." His voice came out lower and rougher than usual.

Cheng Ge froze instantly, feeling that hand, calloused from years of martial training, carefully brush against the sensitive skin behind his ear.

Unlike his own clumsy fumbling, Cui Ji's fingers were nimble and patient.

They worked through the tangled strands gently and patiently, slowly picking the braid apart.

Cheng Ge kept his head hung low, stubborn as a mule, his face burning hot and his heart slamming out of control in his chest, his mind completely blank.

He didn't dare look up at Cui Ji, just felt his breath so close, and the weird shiver that shot through him every time those fingertips grazed his skin.

He felt like he couldn't breathe. If this kept up, he was positive he'd suffocate to death.

He gave up trying to make sense of this sudden closeness, gave up trying to untangle his frantic thoughts.

Suddenly pulling out the dagger he always kept hidden in his sleeve, a flash of cold steel—swish—and without a second thought, he sliced clean through the tangled mess of hair!

A few cut strands drifted down, landing soft on the dry grass.

Not daring to look at Cui Ji's face, Cheng Ge clutched the dagger like a pack of wild beasts were on his tail, scrambled to his feet, and bolted without looking back.

He ran so fast, his head all over the place, that he tripped over his own feet. He went sprawling across the thick grass, covered in grass bits and dirt.

But he didn't dare stop for even a second. He scrambled up fast and kept running.

Cui Ji was just about to get up and go after him when that figure came sprinting right back, even faster than before.

Cheng Ge charged back to where they'd been lying, didn't even glance at anything, and scooped up the pile of snacks and random stuff they'd just bought.

Hugging them tight to his chest, and then—whoosh—he was off again, not looking back, his figure vanishing fast behind the rolling grassy hills.

Cui Ji stayed half-risen, watching that panicked back retreat, then looked down at the cut strands still tangled with the ends of his own hair.

His expression went blank for a second, then a soft, low laugh slipped out.

He reached up, pulled out his own dagger, and neatly sliced through the two strands of black hair twisted together.

Then his eyes swept carefully through the grass. He picked up the few strands lying on the blades, gathering them all into his palm.

Only after all that did he slowly get to his feet, his gaze turning toward where Cheng Ge had disappeared.

The grass swayed, and the rustle of wind through the blades filled his ears, as if whispering about the unsettled ripples from moments ago.

His deep eyes held a weighty emotion, which eventually settled into a calm, patient stillness.

Then he, too, started walking, unhurried, in the direction Cheng Ge had gone.

In the distance, Cheng Ge clutched his armful of stuff, heart thundering, face still burning.

Only the wind sweeping across the wilderness and his own ragged breathing kept him company.

………

Cheng Ge, clutching that pile of snacks and random junk, ran all the way back to camp in a panic.

He practically dove into his tent on all fours, nearly slamming head-on into Ling Feng, who was just about to step out.

Ling Feng caught his balance, and seeing him all disheveled—hair full of grass, face bright red—got a feeling something was off.

"Why's the young master back alone? Did you happen to see my master?"

The second Cheng Ge heard him ask about Cui Ji, his mind went totally blank.

His tongue felt like it was tied in knots, his eyes darting everywhere, not daring to meet Ling Feng's gaze.

"He... he's still... still back there..."

Only then did it hit him—in his panic, he'd... probably... maybe... left Cui Ji alone on that grassy slope!

"Back there? Where?" Ling Feng looked at him, puzzled by his scattered, rambling state.

Cheng Ge tried hard to remember, raised a hand and pointed vaguely in some direction, his voice shaking a little.

"Just... just over there... there's a grassy slope... he should... still be there... go... go pick him up..."

With that, before Ling Feng could ask anything else, he ducked his head like a shrimp that'd been scalded.

Squeezed past him in a blur and bolted straight to the back of the tent.

Ling Feng watched him flee, then looked at the direction he'd pointed, totally baffled.

Cheng Ge's head was a total mess right then, with no energy to explain anything to Ling Feng.

He kept his head down, made a beeline for the bed, and without a word, kicked off his shoes, ripped off his outer robe, and rolled onto it.

He yanked the blanket over his head, covering himself up completely, like a scared turtle pulling into its shell.

In the dark, his senses went into overdrive, like he could hear the pounding of his own heart, still not settled.

His mind uncontrollably began replaying that scene on the grassy slope.

Cui Ji's face drawing close, that focused, deep gaze, and the cool, soft sensation at the corner of his lips...

His head buzzed, one thought spinning wildly: Damn it! Why did Cui Ji kiss him?!

Was this even right? They were both men—upright, seven-foot men—how could they... how could they kiss?!

Just thinking about it, Cheng Ge felt the heat on his face, which had barely begun to subside, flare up again in an instant.

His toes curled in shame under the blanket, wishing he could dig a hole three rooms deep.

He tried to comfort himself, to find an excuse: "Just now... he just barely touched me... it was very light...

Was it an accidental brush? Yes, it must have been an accident, a mistake!"

He desperately tried to steer the event toward the realm of accident, but no matter how he replayed it, Cui Ji's solemn approach, carrying an indescribable meaning, was too clear to be denied.

That was definitely not an accident! No matter how he thought about it, it was wrong! In the end, he couldn't even convince himself.

And earlier, when he saw him off, Cui Ji seemed to have kissed his forehead too...

"Ah—!" Cheng Ge let out a muffled groan of frustration under the covers, yanking at his hair, making the already tangled strands even more of a bird's nest.

He couldn't figure it out, so he said screw it: Stop thinking! Just nuke it all!

With that, he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, and before long, he slept like a log, without a care in the world.

Leaving only Ling Feng outside the tent, totally clueless, and Cui Ji, who was strolling back unhurriedly from the grassy slope.