Chapter 95 A petty thief breaks into an empty house? How dare he! He actually dares to trespass on the general's private residence...

Clutching the recovered button, Ren stormed back to his room. The first thing he did after closing the door was to forcefully shave off the shirt that had embarrassed him. The open shirt was tossed aside as he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a clean garment to change into. Thinking about the scene just now, his face still burned with embarrassment.

To prevent a recurrence, he rummaged through his belongings and found a bag of needles and thread that hadn't been used in a long time. His long hair fell over his forehead, and he lowered his head slightly. His bandaged hands were more dexterous than he'd expected; he threaded the needle with ease, patiently securing the top few buttons one by one. The needle and thread moved back and forth through the fabric, the fine stitches resembling ants lining the floor. Only after several tugs and no budging did he finally finish, satisfied.

But the restlessness in his heart did not dissipate; instead, it intensified, like tiny insects gnawing at his mind. The image of Shen Mi's stunned expression just moments before kept replaying in his mind—surprise, panic, yet within that panic, there was a faint hint of excitement.

It was precisely because he sensed that hidden emotion that he couldn't help but fly into a rage.

He slammed the sewing box shut, the sudden slamming of the lid sounding like fireworks exploding in the quiet room.

Ren suddenly stood up and paced back and forth in the room, his long hair swaying gently behind him as if trying to dispel his anxiety. But every step felt like stepping into a trap; the more he tried to shake it off, the clearer that face and those eyes became, clinging tightly to his mind, impossible to shake off.

“…Damn it.” Ren cursed under her breath, pressing her fingertips hard against her brow. It was supposed to be just an ordinary meal, but from the moment she sat down at the table, everything started to feel off.

First came that inexplicable memory. That night's experience should have been just an insignificant scene in his memory, perhaps long ago reduced to fragmented and blurry pieces under the influence of the demonic body. Yet, it remained vividly etched in his mind: the shock on her face when he transferred his energy, the fleeting glint in her eyes, even the dimples that appeared and disappeared near the corners of her mouth… every detail was too vivid, too clear to be a memory, more like an innate mark.

Blade's breath hitched, and his heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly.

Why do I remember so clearly? Why is my memory of her the only one so clear?

Ren raised his hand to cover his eyes, his fingertips revealing slightly burning eye sockets.

That shouldn't be the case.

Blame, resentment, enmity, and hatred—these are what have sustained him to this day, the majority of his memories, the foundation upon which he stands. Every past event is shrouded in blood and hatred, even his dreams are bleak. Yet, within that desolation, a unique hue has somehow crept in.

That splash of color was small, yet extremely stubborn. Like a new bud forcibly peeking out from a crack, it was full of vitality, but it pierced his heart with pain.

Ren abruptly lowered his hand, his fingertips turning white from the excessive force. He stared at the deathly darkness before him, his eyes surging not with hatred, but with another, more unsettling emotion.

He loathed that feeling.

I loathe that, in addition to my hatred, I can still hallucinate returning to the past.

I loathe my own delusions. It's clearly impossible, so why do I still think about it? Why?

His breathing became increasingly rapid, and he suddenly stood up, as if trying to tear the turmoil in his heart with the movement. He paced back and forth in the room, but no matter what he did, he couldn't shake off those eyes. The panic and light of that moment were etched more clearly into his mind.

"Enough..." Blade said in a low, hoarse voice, sounding like a command, yet also like a plea.

But memory wouldn't listen to him. Like a stubborn hook, it pulled him into a colorful world, imprinting her memories deep in his heart.

This shouldn't belong to him... so why should he have any expectations for it?

He turned around, his back pressed against the cold wall, pondering why this had happened, why this had happened...

————

At midnight, the entire house was asleep in silence. Suddenly, a figure appeared softly and stealthily stepped onto the wooden stairs leading to the second floor.

The wooden steps creaked almost imperceptibly underfoot, as if providing accompaniment to the stealthy movement. The man deliberately slowed his movements, his breathing extremely shallow, afraid of disturbing anything. Dim moonlight streamed in through the window cracks, illuminating half of his profile, outlining its hard, cold lines, and highlighting the vibrant red at the corner of his eye.

He moved slowly upwards, his presence gradually blending into the night. Reaching the corner, he paused for a moment, as if checking if any sounds were coming from the other end of the corridor. After a brief silence, he continued walking.

He took a step and then stopped, as if he were listening carefully to something.

He only continued walking after receiving a safe signal, until he stopped in front of a door.

Shen Mi lay on the bed, burying herself completely under the covers. She dimmed the brightness of her phone and was watching the latest release, "Cosmic Midnight Horror." Perhaps because she was watching a horror movie, Shen Mi was extremely tense and sensitive to her surroundings. When she heard faint footsteps coming from the doorway, she immediately turned off her phone, pulled back the covers, and confirmed her suspicions.

Once he was sure there was someone at the door, Chen Mi carefully lifted the blanket, stepped barefoot onto the floor, pressed his ear against the door, and listened intently to the sounds coming from outside.

Who's still out so late?

When she heard the creak of a wooden door being pushed open, Chen Mi's heart tightened. She remembered clearly that Jing Yuan and the others' bedrooms were downstairs. Who would run upstairs so late? Even if they needed to use the restroom at night, there was no need to come all the way to the second floor. Didn't each room have its own bathroom?

What could be outside that door—?

Several news articles she'd seen flashed through her mind: these thieves always operated at midnight, specifically targeting long-abandoned mansions to steal valuables. If that was the case, then everything made sense. Jing Yuan resided year-round in the General's Mansion in Changle City. This old house was only occasionally cleaned by the steward, making it an ideal target in the eyes of outsiders. The petty thief had probably chosen this "vacant" place, but hadn't expected the owner to suddenly return tonight. Having failed to steal anything on the first floor, he had no choice but to sneak up to the second floor.

Shen Mi took a deep breath, his hand unconsciously rolling up a sleeve that wasn't actually there, and he quickly devised a plan in his mind.

She noticed as she went upstairs that the keys to every bedroom were in the locks. She planned to wait for the person to sneak in and search, then rush up, lock the doors from the inside, and steal the keys.

Immediately afterward, they would shout for help, and Jing Yuan and the others would surely arrive in a flash. In this way, they could not only trap the thieves in the room, but also remain unharmed. If they succeeded, they could also subtly demonstrate their resourcefulness and courage in front of them. This was truly killing two birds with one stone, achieving multiple benefits.

Is this the benefit of staying up late? Then I must give you a good compliment.

Shen Mi tiptoed and pushed open the door. As soon as he opened it a crack, he glimpsed the "little thief" slipping into the room opposite.

Great opportunity!

She held her breath and quietly jogged over, her fingers about to grip the doorknob, when the door suddenly yanked open from the inside.

Oh no! The petty thief has launched a surprise attack!

Shen Mi's heart tightened. She knew she couldn't let him escape. Without hesitation, she pounced and pinned the man down. The man was clutching a pillow, and her first thought was—it must be a prop used to conceal the stolen goods!

"Where do you think you're going, you little thief!" she shouted softly, her imposing manner pressing the man firmly to the ground. Seeing that he didn't struggle or resist, she was secretly delighted—could it be that she had knocked him unconscious with her tackle?

But the next second, a panicked and urgent voice came from under the pillow: "Chen Mi? What... what are you doing on top of me?"

The familiar voice startled her, and she yanked away the pillow that was obstructing her face. In the dim moonlight, Danheng's embarrassed and ashamed face was clearly revealed.

"Dan...Dan Heng?"

Their eyes met. One looked utterly astonished, the other's ears turned red.

Danheng was pinned to the ground by her, his brows furrowed with embarrassment and helplessness, while Chen Mi sat steadily on his waist, holding the pillow she had snatched from Danheng.

The room was eerily quiet, with only a few beams of moonlight slanting in through the window, making the scene seem almost frozen in ambiguity.

Dan Heng froze on the spot, staring blankly at Chen Mi, his breathing noticeably erratic. His usually cold and composed demeanor shattered completely, a hint of panic appearing between his brows, as if he had instantly lost all composure.

Shen Mi's lips moved, but he couldn't find a suitable explanation. His voice was so low it sounded like it was stuck in his throat: "I...I thought it was a petty thief trying to steal something."

Dan Heng was wearing only a thin silk nightgown, the fabric clinging to his skin with a faint, cool sheen. Moonlight slanted down onto his neck, outlining a snow-white and sharp curve. His once steady breathing was now completely out of rhythm, his chest heaving rapidly like mountains pushed up by the night, so distinct that it was impossible to look away.

Shen Mi stared blankly, involuntarily licking her dry lips. The next moment, she felt a familiar warm, moist sensation on her nose. Startled, she immediately covered her nose and jumped away from him in a panic, as if she had been electrocuted.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she whispered repeatedly in a flustered voice, her trembling with embarrassment.

Dan Heng also stood up, his movements as decisive as ever, yet unusually stiff. He raised his hand to touch his burning cheek, turned his eyes slightly away, and said in a low voice, "Between you and me, there's no need for apologies, besides... I don't mind."

The last sentence was spoken very softly, almost as faint as the wind blowing through a windowpane. Shen Mi could only hear it vaguely, and subconsciously thought that Dan Heng was saying something else important.

"What?" She looked up, pinched her nose, and secretly glanced at him before looking down again, afraid that her nose would bleed again.

Dan Heng shook his head, his eyes softening, and said softly, "It's nothing. Is your nose still not better? Let go of my hand, let me take a look."

Shen Mi hesitated for a moment before carefully letting go of her hand.

Dan Heng gently led her to the window of the room, bent down and leaned closer, his slender fingers lifting her chin with a gentle and focused gesture. Moonlight shone on his profile, casting a faint, cold light. His gaze fell on her nose, and seeing that her face was clean and without a trace of blood, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The two were so close that the air seemed to freeze. Shen Mi felt a little nervous, and her cheeks involuntarily flushed slightly.

Dan Heng reached out and gently touched her nose with his fingertips, the movement delicate and warm: "It looks like you're all better now."

"Mmm." Shen Mi nodded gently.

"It's so late, aren't you asleep yet?" Dan Heng asked in a low voice, his eyes filled with concern.

"I stayed up late watching TV..." Shen Mi replied somewhat awkwardly, then looked up and asked him, "What about you?"

Dan Heng remained silent, only slightly tilting his head.

Shen Mi followed the gaze to the pillow that had fallen to the ground, walked over and picked it up, and asked cautiously, "Why did you come upstairs? Can't you sleep?"

Dan Heng leaned against the window, the moonlight shining on his slightly disheveled hair. He slowly turned to look at her, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes: "No... nothing special, it's just... I seem to have trouble falling asleep in an environment filled with old friends and memories."

As he spoke, he looked up at Shen Mi, testing her attitude.

Hearing this, Chen Mi was startled. Dan Heng was having another nightmare, dreaming about his previous life.

Shen Mi dusted off the pillow. She walked towards Dan Heng, smiled, and said softly, "Well... shall we look at the moon together? Chat for a while? I can't sleep either."

Dan Heng turned his face to the side, his lips trembling slightly. He lowered his eyes, and when he looked up again, his eyes were bright and sparkling in the moonlight.

"good."

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Author's Note: La la la, I'm here!!! [doge][doge][doge][doge][doge]