The whole world disappeared in that timeless moment.
The shrill blare of horns, the driver's foul curses, the rising screams and shocked exclamations, the cameras pointing at him— everything faded to the background, and all that remained was the small hands holding his own and the warmth emanated from them.
Ba-thump, ba-thump.
From the depths of his chilling numbness, something seemed to crack open, allowing him to feel his heartbeat once more.
Strong, rapid, and unmistakably alive.
"Who… who are you…?" Shen Nianzu struggled to ask through his chattering teeth. He had not felt anything earlier, and it wasn't until this tiny warmth seeped into his skin through his palms that he came to realize how cold he had been. Bone chillingly cold. So cold he could feel the tears and blood solidifying on his skin, as if encasing him in a layer of ice. So cold he could feel each breath scraping against his throat, his windpipe frozen with every shallow inhale.
