Let's leave Chapter 43 like this for now, otherwise I'm afraid it won't pass censorship.

As soon as Zhang Qiling closed the door, a warm feeling wafted from behind him. Hei Xiazi's hand gently landed on his waist, his fingertips brushing against the subtle embroidery on the fabric—it was a hoodie he had ordered in Hangzhou, but Hei Xiazi had secretly asked the embroiderer to add a very faint cloud pattern, which was now being repeatedly caressed by his fingertips.

"There are no lights in the room, aren't you afraid of bumping into something?" Hei Xiazi's voice was close to his ear, still warm from the yellow wine he had just drunk, making Zhang Qiling's ear tips burn. Before he could reply, he reached out to touch the flint on the table. The moment his fingertips touched the cold stone, Zhang Qiling gently grabbed his wrist.

The room was illuminated only by moonlight filtering through the cracks in the window, Zhang Qiling's silhouette obscured by the dim light, only his eyes shining brightly. "No need. You're here," he said softly, yet with an undeniable certainty. His other arm was already around Hei Xiazi's waist, pulling him closer to the door. The wooden door creaked softly, and Hei Xiazi, his back pressed against the cold wood, chuckled: "Mute Zhang, are you copying my trick from the Xisha Islands last time?"

Zhang Qiling didn't speak, only tilted his head slightly. Hei Xiazi understood, and when he lowered his head to kiss him, he deliberately slowed down his movements—he remembered that Zhang Qiling didn't like touches that were too hasty. His lips first lightly brushed against the other's, like testing the water temperature, until he felt the person in his arms relax their shoulders, and then he slowly deepened the kiss. His hand moved up along Zhang Qiling's waist, and just as he touched the scar under his clothes that hadn't fully healed, Zhang Qiling grabbed his wrist.

Those were the cuts inflicted during the attack in the hidden compartment of the old house during the day. Although medicine had been applied, the edges of the bandages could still be felt with the fingertips. "Does it still hurt?" Hei Xiazi's kiss paused at the corner of his lips, his voice softening slightly. Zhang Qiling shook his head, but didn't let go of his hand. Instead, he used the force to turn around and pin Hei Xiazi against the door.

A familiar sensation suddenly came from his fingertips—Zhang Qiling's "Hairpin Finger" was pressed against the pulse point on his wrist, the pressure steady enough to immobilize him without making him numb. Hei Xiazi raised an eyebrow, deliberately moving closer to him, his breath brushing against Zhang Qiling's neck: "What, is the mute going to 'enforce the law'?"

Zhang Qiling's thumb gently brushed against the skin beside his pulse point, where there was a tiny mole, a mark from the poisonous insect bite he'd suffered in the Qinling Ancient Tomb, now burning hot under his fingertip. "You struck first." His voice was lower than usual, with a barely perceptible hoarseness, and his other hand was already gripping the back of Hei Xiazi's neck as he lowered his head to kiss him.

This kiss lacked the tenderness of the previous one, carrying a forceful intensity that brooked no refusal. Black Bear's back pressed against the door, he could clearly feel the warmth of Zhang Qiling's palm seeping through the fabric, causing the pressure of his "Fa Qiu" fingers to loosen, becoming a gentle encirclement. He responded with a smile, his tongue brushing against the other's lower lip, and taking advantage of Zhang Qiling's momentary distraction, he gently nudged the back of his knee with his knee, trying to regain control.

Just as her fingertips touched Zhang Qiling's clothes, a soft "click" sound came from outside the window—as if someone had stepped on a dead branch in the corner of the yard.

Zhang Qiling's movements froze instantly, his "Finger of the Tomb Raider" technique tightening abruptly, not towards Hei Xiazi, but by pulling him closer behind him. Hei Xiazi was about to reach for the gun at his waist when Zhang Qiling stopped his hand. The two stood against the wall, moonlight filtering through the window cracks, illuminating Zhang Qiling's tense profile. His ears twitched slightly, listening intently to the sounds outside.

"Is it from the direction of the western culvert?" Hei Xiazi asked in a low voice—Jie Yuchen had mentioned that evening that there were signs of recent construction at the westernmost culvert entrance, and the noise was coming from that direction. Zhang Qiling didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly, his other hand already reaching for the bronze knife behind the door.

Before they could act, another soft sound came from outside the window—this time, the sound of soft fluff brushing against the window paper, followed by a very faint "meow." Black Bear breathed a sigh of relief, reached out and lifted a corner of the curtain. In the moonlight, a black cat was perched on the windowsill, clutching half a stolen dried fish in its paws. Seeing someone watching it, it immediately leaped over the eaves and disappeared into the night.

"So it's just a cat that steals food." Hei Xiazi turned around with a smile, but Zhang Qiling pulled him into his arms. His back pressed against the warm chest, and he could feel the other's heartbeat, which had not yet completely calmed down. The Tomb Raider's finger gently traced his Adam's apple, with a slight tickle.

"Don't move." Zhang Qiling's voice was exceptionally clear in the night. His fingertips traced down his collar, and just as they touched his collarbone, Hei Xiazi grabbed his wrist.

"Is this mute trying to settle a personal score?" Black Glasses turned around, his nose brushing against Zhang Qiling's chin. "When the Tomb Raider's Finger was pressed against my pulse point just now, why didn't you go easy on me?" He deliberately rubbed his hand against Zhang Qiling's palm, feeling the slight heat from the other's fingertips, which even made his breathing falter.

Zhang Qiling didn't answer, but lowered her head and kissed him. This kiss was a little urgent, her teeth gently biting his lower lip, while her other hand had already touched Hei Xiazi's belt—a leather belt with his usual dagger hanging on it, which was now gently hooked by Zhang Qiling's fingertips, the metal buckle making a soft "click" sound that was particularly clear in the quiet room.

Hei Xiazi's hand moved up Zhang Qiling's back, touching the stray hairs on the back of his neck, his fingertips gently rubbing them. He knew the melancholy in Zhang Qiling's heart—the debts of the Nine Gates weighed on him like a stone, and the hidden drains in the old house concealed unknown dangers. Only this touch could temporarily lower his guard. So when Zhang Qiling's tomb raiding fingers lightly traced his waistline, he simply chuckled and leaned closer to the other's embrace.

The oil lamp hadn't been lit yet, and moonlight filtered through the window paper, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Zhang Qiling's fingertips, calloused, unconsciously softened their touch as they traced the old wound on Hei Xiazi's waist—a scar left years ago in Changbai Mountain, from protecting him from the zombies' attacks. Now, as his fingertips repeatedly caressed it, it brought out a warm, burning sensation.

"Do you submit or not?" Zhang Qiling's voice was close to his ear, slightly tipsy with alcohol in it. Hei Xiazi chuckled, reached out and grabbed his wrist, pressing the hand with the calloused finger of the tomb raider against his own heart: "You'll have to prove yourself if you can—dumb Zhang, stop using that finger-pressing trick, make me submit willingly."

As soon as he finished speaking, a very light breeze came from outside the window, this time carrying the sound of fabric rubbing together. Zhang Qiling's movements stopped abruptly, and Hei Xiazi immediately stopped smiling. The two exchanged a glance, both seeing wariness in each other's eyes. But Zhang Qiling didn't get up immediately. He simply pulled Hei Xiazi closer to the bed, letting him lean against the soft bedding, while he himself stood guard by the bedside, his fingers clenched in his palm, his gaze fixed on the tightly closed door.

"Don't worry," Hei Xiazi reached out and tugged at his sleeve, his fingertips brushing against the back of his hand, "If there's any noise, who are we afraid of?"

Zhang Qiling looked down at him. Moonlight fell on Hei Xiazi's face, revealing a smile in his eyes, but the usual nonchalance was gone, replaced by a resolute gentleness. He remained silent for a moment, then finally relaxed his tense shoulders and sat down beside Hei Xiazi. The tomb raider's fingers gently traced the back of Hei Xiazi's hand, but this time without the previous force, merely soothingly stroking the old scar on his wrist.

The dim light of the oil lamp flickered on the wall, elongating the two overlapping figures. Zhang Qiling's hand rested on Hei Xiazi's waist, and his Tomb Raider fingers pressed lightly on his acupoints through the fabric, causing half of his body to go numb.

"Dumb..." Hei Xiazi's voice was a little hoarse. He tried to turn over but was pressed down even tighter.

Zhang Qiling's knee pressed between his legs, his nose brushing against his ear. Warm breath swept across his neck, Hei Xiazi's Adam's apple bobbed, and he felt those hands move down his spine, gently circling at his tailbone.

Clothes lay scattered haphazardly beside the bed, and when Hei Xiazi tilted his head back, a tooth mark was visible on his Adam's apple. Zhang Qiling lowered his head and touched the mark with his lips, but his Fist of the Tomb Raider still held his wrist. Hei Xiazi groaned, his waist tensing uncontrollably, making a soft creaking sound against the sheets.

Moonlight streamed through the window cracks, illuminating the muscular lines of Zhang Qiling's back. As he leaned over, Hei Xiazi caught a faint scent of herbs, and a deep kiss silenced all sound. When Fa Qiu's fingers traced down his lower abdomen, Hei Xiazi finally couldn't help but curl his toes, leaving messy scratches on the edge of the bed.

The night was still long when the oil lamp went out with a crackling sound.