The summer night wind, carrying the lingering heat of the day and the moisture from the evaporating grass and trees, blows lazily across the city.
The chirping of cicadas seemed sparse in the night, replaced by the vague sound of traffic coming from the distant road and the occasional croaking of frogs deep in the park.
The Municipal West Suburb Park is built on the mountainside. At the entrance there is a long, slightly old stone staircase that winds upwards to the mountaintop observation deck shaded by trees.
It was almost late at night and there were few visitors in the park. Only a few night joggers or couples taking a walk were swaying in the distance.
On both sides of the stone steps are dense camphor trees and privets. The leaves rustle in the night wind, cutting the light from the street lamps into pieces.
Mu Xinrong had just finished an exciting basketball game. His hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his full forehead in clumps.
He was wearing a loose sports vest and shorts, revealing his tanned, sleek arms and calves.
He had a wet jersey casually draped over his shoulder and a half-drunk bottle of mineral water in his hand. He was wiping the sweat off his face with a towel while walking briskly down the stone steps from the top of the mountain.
The heat after exercise steamed him up, giving his handsome and sunny face a blush and satisfaction unique to exercise.
He was humming a tuneless pop song, his eyes bright, like a large, energetic dog.
Everything is fine, full of youthful energy and simplicity.
He had just reached the middle of the stone steps, near a relatively bright street lamp, when he stopped.
At the bottom of the stone steps, against the light, a tall and straight figure was climbing up the stairs.
The man was wearing the same dark blue summer school uniform of the Municipal No. 1 Middle School as Mu Xinrong, but it looked very different.
The well-tailored school uniform shirt was buttoned meticulously to the top of the collar, and he wore a suit-style school uniform jacket of the same color on the outside. It was ironed without a single wrinkle, as if it had just been taken off the ironing board.
The dark blue trousers are straight, with sharp lines and excellent drape, making the legs look longer.
He was carrying a simple, high-quality black leather backpack with the straps adjusted just right.
The dim light from the street lamp slanted down from above his head, first illuminating his short black hair that was as dark as the deepest night.
The hair was trimmed neatly, each strand staying in its right place, giving off a healthy and cool luster under the light.
The light moved down along his full and smooth forehead, his tall and straight nose as sharp as a knife, and finally fell on his face.
It was a face you could never forget. Its skin was the cold white of someone who hadn't seen the sun for a long time. Under the dim streetlight, it looked like it was carved from the finest cold jade, so delicate that not a single pore could be seen.
The jawline was clear and hard, and his thin lips were naturally pursed without a trace of curve, revealing an indifference that kept people at a distance.
And the most frightening thing is those eyes.
Chao Youye raised her head slightly, her gaze calmly fixed on the stone steps in front of her, not looking at Mu Xinrong.
But the moment he raised his eyes, the light from the street lamp just happened to capture the color of those eyes.
It is not the common black or brown, but an extremely deep violet that seems to contain an entire mysterious nebula.
The purple color was extremely deep, almost ink-black, but when light penetrated it, it reflected an indescribable, cold and luxurious glow.
Like the last drop of dew condensed on the petals of a violet on a cold night in late winter, it is pure and transparent, yet carries a biting chill.
His eyes were calm and unfocused, as if they penetrated the people and objects before him and landed on some distant dimension where only rules existed.
There was no youthful energy, curiosity or fatigue, only an eternal, frozen silence.
His steps were steady and precise, and the distance of each step on the stone steps seemed to have been calculated with the utmost precision, without a single unnecessary movement.
The dim light falling on him not only did not bring any warmth, but instead made the cold and unapproachable aura around him even more striking.
Mu Xinrong stopped in his tracks and unconsciously clenched the mineral water bottle in his hand, making a slight "crunching" sound.
The smile and ease on his face froze in an instant.
A sharp, unprovoked pain suddenly seized his heart.
Mu Xinrong's breath caught in his throat, and countless fragmented, chaotic, and unpredictable images flashed before his eyes: a blinding white light obliterating everything, the structure of space wailing and breaking, a dark origin that froze his soul, and...
A self holding an arm tightly, with a pale face, filled with great fear and despair.
The fear was so real and so deep in his bones that it instantly gave him goosebumps all over his body!
However, in this overwhelming fear, some completely different, warm and bright fragments, like sharp glass shards, mixed with severe pain suddenly pierced his mind.
His low, pleasant voice, yet with a gentle magnetism he had never heard before, resounded deep within his soul, like a murmur among lovers: "Mu Xinrong... Don't be afraid, I'm here."
There is also a clearer one, "...I will use my rules to protect you from worries in this life."
There was an absolute, reassuring sense of commitment in that voice.
He seemed to see himself like a small animal seeking shelter, curled up in an embrace that exuded a cold breath but made him feel extremely safe.
Although the embrace was cold, it was extremely stable, as if it could isolate all the wind and rain in the world.
Mu Xinrong could even "feel" the possessive tenderness when the other person's slightly cool chin rested on the top of his head.
"Ugh..." A short groan of pain escaped uncontrollably from his throat.
Mu Xinrong suddenly raised his hands to cover his chest and temples. Cold sweat instantly seeped out of his forehead. His tall body was slightly hunched, as if he was enduring unimaginable pain.
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