Shu Mingye nearly tripped over his own foot. They had held hands before. Sure. But this was the first time she reached out first. His mind, once again, rolled off the table and burst into flames.
Her hand was so small. Still cold. Still her.
What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Should he ask? Should he pretend it was nothing? Should he hold it tighter or play it cool? He didn't want to overthink, but his brain was already doing backflips while his heart pounded, demanding answers.
And her?
She just walked beside him, expression calm, like she had not just casually stabbed him with emotional confusion and walked away with his heart in her pocket.
Shu Mingye's thoughts were in chaos. On the outside though, he was quiet. Mostly. Except for his face, which seemed to be working through an entire season of emotions in the span of a few seconds.
Linyue glanced at him. His brows twitched, his lips pressed into a line, then curved, then flattened again. He looked like he was arguing with himself in ten different languages now. Really, what was wrong with him?
Without meaning to, she let out a soft laugh.
It was small, barely a sound, but Shu Mingye heard it as if the world had gone silent just for that moment. He turned his head slowly, almost as if he did not trust his own ears. His eyes landed on her face. Was she… laughing?
Yes. Her lips curved slightly, her eyes sparkled, and those dimples.
His heart skipped. Then it sprinted. Then it tried to escape his chest entirely.
She looked too cute.
Before his mind could stop him, he shifted his hand, weaving her fingers with his one by one until their hands were fully clasped. Tight and warm. And to his surprise, she didn't pull away. She even squeezed back, her cold fingers pressing gently into his palm.
His mind short-circuited again. She squeezed back. She actually squeezed back. This was no longer holding hands. This was war. A silent battle where the enemy smiled sweetly and had no idea she was slowly killing him. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
Was it possible for a Demon King to die of happiness? Would the historians write about it? "Here lies the mighty Shu Mingye, feared across the realms, slain by one hand squeeze." He forced his face to stay calm, but inside he was rolling on the floor, setting off fireworks, and composing poetry about her fingers.
He stared at her, barely able to breathe. His voice came out low and a little hoarse. "What makes you so happy?"
Linyue looked up at him, eyes still calm, lips twitching with amusement. "Your expression is funny."
Shu Mingye almost choked on air. So that was it. He was here, walking hand in hand, going through a full emotional crisis, wondering if she was finally falling for him… and she was laughing at his face.
He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to whatever dignity he had left. "Do I look that funny?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Linyue nodded without hesitation. "Yes. But you're also still good looking."
Shu Mingye froze.
Wait. Was that… was that a compliment? Was she mocking him? Was she being honest? Or both?
She said he was good looking.
He stared at her, lips parted, the words echoing in his head. Slowly, an utterly foolish smile spread across his face. There it was again. That dumb smile. The one that appeared every time she caught him off guard. If someone saw him now, they would never believe this was the terrifying King of Shulin. With a foolish smile on his face and ears turning pink, he looked more like a love-struck teenager who had just been told his awful haircut actually looked good.
Linyue glanced at him. His face was shifting between blank, dreamy, and slightly panicked, as if he could not decide which one to keep. Honestly, it was entertaining. Was this really the same Demon King everyone feared? It was hard to imagine. Yet looking at him like this—warm, silly, and a little helpless—something light stirred in her chest. Something fluttery. Something unfamiliar. Was it happiness?
Probably. And she didn't hate it. It felt like a good change. Because for the first time in a long while, the world didn't seem so dull anymore.
She smiled, soft and genuine. The smile that made Shu Mingye's heart skip, stumble, and start pounding all over again.
Shu Mingye felt the smile hit him like an ambush. No warning. No time to prepare. One moment he was walking, the next he was questioning whether his knees still worked.
She smiled at him. At him. He forced his breathing to stay calm, but his brain was already collapsing on itself. Somewhere inside, a tiny version of him was running in circles, screaming, while another was scribbling poetry about her dimples. He tried to act normal and failed completely. His hand tightened around hers, as if holding on hard enough would keep her from walking away and taking that smile with her.
"Careful," she said, glancing at their joined hands. "You'll cut off my circulation."
He quickly loosened his grip, muttering something that might have been an apology. But inside, he was still rolling on the floor and setting off celebratory fireworks.
This was dangerous.
Very, very dangerous.
Thankfully, they finally arrived at the training ground. It looked perfectly normal again. Clean, orderly, not a single hint of the disaster it had endured last time. Best not to think about that.
The rest of their group was already there. As soon as Song Meiyu spotted them walking in, hands still joined and faint smiles still on their faces, she gasped loudly and pointed at them as if she had just seen a miracle.
"Yes," she cried. "There is progress. She will be cured. She will not be emotionally stunted forever." Her voice echoed through the training ground.
Linyue blinked slowly. The only reaction on her face was a slight twitch in her brow.
Song Meiyu narrowed her eyes at her. "But," she added with great seriousness, "it would be perfect if you finally removed that jade dust powder from your face, Sister Linyue. Why are you still pretending to be ugly?"
Linyue said nothing. She just stared back at Song Meiyu, completely expressionless. Which probably only made Song Meiyu more certain her so-called cure still had a long way to go.
Shen Zhenyu stood nearby, quiet as always, but his eyes didn't miss a thing. Especially not Shu Mingye. The so-called terrifying King of Shulin was standing there, hand still clasped with Linyue's, smiling in plain sight. He didn't even try to hide it anymore. His gaze followed her every step, as if she might vanish the moment he blinked.
Shen Zhenyu didn't say anything, but inside, he was cautious. Yes, Shu Mingye looked like he wouldn't harm her now. Maybe even cared about her. But people like him—cold, dangerous, unpredictable—didn't change that easily. What if one day he changed his mind? What if one day Linyue looked at him with that soft smile again, and instead of holding her hand, he let it go?
His fingers curled slightly at the thought. He didn't like it. He didn't know exactly what he would do if it happened, if Shu Mingye turned away and Linyue got hurt. But one thing was certain, he would always be watching.
Completely ignoring the brooding bodyguard energy standing nearby, Shu Mingye leaned closer to Linyue and murmured, "It doesn't matter how you look. It must be troublesome to wear that powder all the time."
Linyue turned her face toward him, her usual deadpan expression firmly in place. "You were the one who said make it uglier."
Shu Mingye chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Well, I changed my mind."
He had. At first, he thought uglier meant safer—for his sanity, for his peace, for his self-control. But now, he was curious. What did she really look like under all that jade dust powder?
The Linyue he first met had spoken with full confidence about her beauty, even while wearing an exaggeratedly ugly face. That confidence had stayed, but her appearance remained hidden. Was she truly beautiful? Was she not? In the end, it did not matter. He just wanted to see her. Whoever she was behind that disguise.
As the two stood there, whispering like the world around them didn't exist, Shen Zhenyu let out a long sigh and said flatly, "Let's begin."
Because if he had to watch Shu Mingye smile like that for one more second, he might just cough up blood on the spot.