Chapter 45: For Science

Words : 1233 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 45: For Science Slowly fluttering open, Sheng Moxian’s eyes were met by a soft glow filtering in through a nearby window. Her body ached slightly, but she was warm—wrapped in a thick, comfortable blanket atop a surprisingly clean bed. The scent of herbs lingered faintly in the air, calming her senses. "Where... am I?" Sheng Moxian murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. As her vision adjusted, her eyes slowly scanned the unfamiliar room. The wooden walls. The basin of water on the table. A flickering candle, half-melted. Then, finally, Sheng Moxian’s gaze fell to the side of the bed—and her breath caught: ’The Saint... Hei Long...?’ He sat slouched in a wooden chair, fast asleep, his arms folded lazily across his lap. His head leaned slightly forward, hair tousled, his long bangs shadowing his closed eyes. One leg remained tucked beneath him while the other stretched out toward the bed, where it seemed he’d nodded off watching over her. Sheng Moxian stared, unmoving: ’He watched over me...?’ Her cheeks reddened instantly. The memories rushed back—of collapsing, her body giving in. She had passed out right in his arms. And now, here Sheng Moxian was, in a warm bed... untouched, undisturbed. ...Or so she thought. Hei Long did grope her a little... "For science," he had muttered to himself at the time, half-convincing himself it was necessary. But actually! That was for science! Sheng Moxian lips curled into a soft, radiant smile, her heart fluttering as a giddy warmth spread through her chest: "So he really... helped me all the way here," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder: "He didn’t even take advantage of me..." Her fingers curled around the blanket near her chest as she gently bit her lower lip, a sparkle of affection gleaming in her eyes. F or a brief moment, she even imagined little hearts drifting in her gaze: ’He’s... really perfect.’ Sheng Moxian reached out slowly, as if to brush a strand of hair from his forehead... then paused, her hand hovering inches above him. Her expression softened. "...Thank you," Sheng Moxian whispered. And she meant it. Feeling something stir nearby, Hei Long slowly blinked his eyes open, pretending at first to be groggy from sleep. In truth, he’d been half-awake for a while now, having sensed her movements the moment she stirred under the covers. He’d kept his breathing even, letting her have the moment to herself. But when their eyes finally met—hers wide with shock and emotion—he knew the act was over. Sheng Moxian froze. For a brief, fragile heartbeat, the world held still. Her gaze locked with his, and Hei Long saw the storm of emotions brewing behind her hazel eyes: embarrassment, gratitude, nervousness—and something far softer, more dangerous. Then it hit her. Sheng Moxian’s cheeks flushed an intense crimson, color spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. Her fingers gripped the blanket like a lifeline. Her lips parted to speak, but what came out was nothing short of a catastrophe: "I—I—uh—this—I—um—I just—no—I mean—!!" The words tumbled out in chaos, each syllable colliding with the next as she tried and failed to compose herself. She looked like a deer caught in light. Then, all at once, Sheng Moxian’s brain gave up. With a small gasp and a full-body jolt, she toppled backward onto the bed, her eyes rolling up as she fainted dead away. Hei Long let out a long, heavy sigh, dragging a hand down his face: "...Seriously?" He sat up straighter, brushing his hair back with one hand as he glanced down at her unconscious form. A light snore escaped her lips, and her hand twitched once, still clutching the corner of the blanket. "So even when she’s the one who makes the move," Hei Long muttered to himself: "She still passes out... That’s a problem." He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, deep in thought. The wooden frame creaked beneath his weight. "She’s too delicate," Hei Long said with a frown: "Heart can’t even handle eye contact... What am I supposed to do? Wear a mask next time?" He rubbed his chin, tilting his head as if considering it: "Or maybe tone it down? Less charm, more monk-like detachment? Hah... not happening." Hei Long leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes scanning her face now soft in sleep. Despite himself, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips: "She really is something else..." For a long moment, he just watched her. The flickering candle cast soft shadows across her features. "I guess I’ll have to speed up this relationship," Hei Long said quietly, more to himself than to her: "The more I push boundaries, the more comfortable she’ll become with it." Hei Long stood up, stretched his limbs with a satisfied crack of his shoulders, and gently adjusted the blanket to cover her more fully. Just before turning to leave the room— "No!" "Huh?" Hei Long turned halfway— Sheng Moxian suddenly shot upright in the bed, eyes wide and wild. In the span of a breath, she flung the blanket aside and stumbled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud. Before Hei Long could say a word, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist from behind, catching him completely off guard. Her chest pressed firmly against his back, and he could feel her trembling—not from fear, but from something far more... Her breath was hot against his robes, and he heard her inhale deeply, almost reverently, as if trying to capture something fleeting. "I don’t want you to go..." Sheng Moxian murmured, voice low, shaky... possessive: "I don’t want to lose this smell..." Her nose nestled into the back of his shoulder, and she took another exaggerated breath, as if intoxicated. Her earlier embarrassment had completely vanished, consumed now by a strange, almost unhinged longing. Hei Long stood frozen. A blank expression painted his face as dots seemed to hover over his head like a phantom thought: "...?" Hei Long’s mind stalled. ’What... just happened?’ One minute she was fainting at eye contact, the next she was clinging to him like he was a life raft in a storm. Her grip was tight—frantic even. Like if she let go, he might disappear into the wind. ’This was... random,’ Hei Long thought to himself, eyes narrowing slightly. He shifted his weight, turning his head just enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye. Sheng Moxian looked like a completely different person from the shy girl who had blushed herself into unconsciousness not five minutes ago. Her eyes were hazy, lips parted, cheeks still flushed—but now from something else entirely. "...Are you alright?" Hei Long asked flatly. "I am now," Sheng Moxian whispered against his back. Another whiff... "You’re seriously sniffing me." Hei Long felt it even more now. Sheng Moxian nodded shamelessly. "...You’re not even going to deny it?" Hei Long found it quite funny. "Nope," Sheng Moxian said, tightening her hug: "You smell like heaven. Like battle, and blood, and danger—and something sweet I can’t place. It’s all... you." Hei Long blinked again, processing each word slowly like a poorly written scroll: ’Yep. She’s gone off the deep end.’ He gently patted her hand: "Alright, we fucking or not?" "Yes!" Sheng Moxian mumbled happily.

Chapter 45: For Science

Comments (0)