Chapter 354 That’s It?

Chapter 354: That's It?

He raised a hand to touch his own neck, where Cui Ji's scorching breath and forceful touch still seemed to linger.

Thinking back now, that forcefulness was probably partly a front, right? After all, if he were really that full of energy, how could he just stop on a dime?

Cheng Ge turned over, burying his burning face into the pillow that still carried Cui Ji's scent, letting out a muffled sigh.

Well, it looked like this plan to get his mojo back would have to account for both of them. From now on, he'd have to brew enough tonic soup for two.

Just as he was lost in thought, the tent curtain was pushed aside, and Cui Ji walked in carrying a plate of steaming pastries.

His expression had already returned to normal, as if all that tension between them on the bed moments ago had never happened.

He set the pastries on the small table by the bed, his voice steady: "This is all that's left. Eat them while they're hot."

Cheng Ge stole a glance at him, took a pastry, and bit into it. The sweet, soft pastry melted on his tongue.

Cheng Ge nibbled at the pastry while sneaking glances at Cui Ji.

The other man sat calmly on the edge of the bed, casually picking up a book on military strategy to flip through.

His posture was so composed and relaxed, as if the person who had nearly crossed the line moments ago wasn't the same guy.

Cheng Ge's eyes darted. He swallowed the bite in his mouth, cleared his throat, and tried to sound casual: "Ahem... hey, Cui Ji."

"Hm?" Cui Ji's gaze didn't leave the page.

"Don't you think... it's gotten pretty chilly up here in the north at night?" Cheng Ge tried to sound like he was just making small talk about the weather.

Cui Ji turned a page, then reached out as naturally as anything and pulled him into his arms.

Cheng Ge: "..."

Caught off guard, Cheng Ge was pulled over, his back suddenly pressed against a warm chest, and the pastry in his hand nearly fell onto the blanket.

He froze in Cui Ji's embrace, his ears turning visibly red.

Cui Ji's arm loosely encircled him, his chin brushing lightly against the top of Cheng Ge's head.

Cheng Ge scratched the tip of his nose, took another bite of the pastry, and kept testing the waters in a muffled voice.

"Have you been feeling... cold in your feet lately in the middle of the night? Like, that chill that creeps up on you?"

Cui Ji set down the military manual, took hold of Cheng Ge's foot, and gently rubbed it between his palms.

Cheng Ge hadn't expected that move. The warmth and faint tickle against his sole made him flinch, and he hurriedly tried to pull his foot back, but Cui Ji's large hand closed around it.

Cui Ji's palm was calloused, the rough texture grazing across the delicate skin of Cheng Ge's instep.

Cheng Ge watched his downcast eyes. The candlelight cast faint shadows across his sharp features, revealing a loneliness he rarely showed.

His heart softened without him knowing why, and he couldn't help asking, "Cui Ji, have you ever thought about... having a child?"

Cui Ji's hands didn't stop moving. He lowered his gaze and countered, "Can you?"

Cheng Ge: "..."

He was at a loss for words, turning his face away to stare at the flickering candle flame.

"I mean, the normal way... marry a woman, have kids. After all, you're the last one in the Cui family's direct line."

Cui Ji let out a soft laugh—short and loaded with meaning—and said nothing more. The silence was answer enough.

Cheng Ge sniffled, his throat tightening.

His voice unconsciously dropped to something very soft, very slow, almost fading away: "Cui Ji, I might not... have much longer to live."

The moment those words left his mouth, even he was surprised by his own words.

Before, he truly hadn't cared—he'd even vaguely thought that maybe if he kicked the bucket here, he'd return to his original world.

But now, looking at Cui Ji's profile so close, feeling the warm pressure around his ankle, a strange, reluctant ache crept up like vines, quietly wrapping around his heart.

Cui Ji's movements abruptly halted, as if time had stopped in that instant.

The howling wind outside the tent became piercingly clear, pressing against Cheng Ge's eardrums.

"No."

Cui Ji's tone was as cold and hard as permafrost, carrying an unyielding, almost brutal certainty.

His grip on Cheng Ge's ankle unconsciously tightened, and he raised his eyes, his gaze heavy and fixed on Cheng Ge.

"The previous chapter got locked again, as expected. I don't even think it was that bad..."