The apartment fell into a strange silence after the bathroom incident.
Mo Chen sat calmly on the single armchair, now dressed in Lin Yue's oversized pajama set. The sleeves were slightly short on him, and the pants didn't quite reach his ankles — yet somehow, he still carried himself like an emperor disguised in casual clothing.
Lin Yue sat cross-legged on the sofa, laptop open on her knees, typing furiously.
The clicking of keys filled the room.
Mo Chen watched her for a long moment before speaking.
"I am hungry."
Her fingers froze mid-type.
"You're… what?"
"Hungry."
She slowly turned her head, staring at him as if he had just declared war.
"You want to eat? Now?"
"Yes."
She blinked twice.
"You do realize it's almost midnight?"
"You also require sustenance," he replied calmly. "Do you believe I alone experience hunger?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"I have work. Tomorrow is submission day. I don't have time to play chef for an ancient vampire king."
"I am not a vampire," he corrected automatically.
"Whatever you are."
He tilted his head slightly.
"If I do not eat, you will not focus."
She pointed dramatically at the laptop.
"You have hands. You have eyes. You can cook."
He looked toward the kitchen.
"…That area is unfamiliar."
"You've seen battles for a thousand years but can't use a stove?"
"I do not understand how flame emerges from metal."
She covered her face.
"Unbelievable."
With an exaggerated sigh, she stood up and marched toward the kitchen.
"Fine. What do you eat?"
He paused.
"…Blood."
She froze.
He watched her reaction calmly.
Three seconds passed.
Then she grabbed a kitchen towel and threw it at him.
"Not funny!"
He almost smiled.
She opened the refrigerator.
Empty.
Well… almost empty.
Half a carrot.
Two eggs.
Expired milk.
She checked the cabinet.
Instant noodles.
Only one packet left.
She groaned dramatically.
"Why does my luck disappear when you appear?"
From the living room, he observed the glowing laptop screen curiously.
When she wasn't looking, he stood and walked toward it.
Words filled the display.
Paragraphs. Titles. Research notes.
He leaned closer.
She had been typing about "Ancient Sealing Rituals and Lost Southern Formations."
Interesting.
He reached out and touched the keyboard.
The screen instantly went black.
The laptop shut down.
From the kitchen, Lin Yue shouted, "Did you touch my laptop?!"
He looked at the dark screen calmly.
"It ceased functioning."
She rushed out of the kitchen.
"What did you do?!"
He pointed at it.
"I touched it."
She stared at the blank screen.
Her expression slowly transformed.
Shock.
Horror.
Then—
Rage.
"I didn't save the file!" she cried. "Three thousand words!"
She dramatically clutched her chest.
"This is all your fault!"
He blinked.
"I did not attack it."
"You attacked my deadline!"
She scolded him for a full thirty seconds straight.
He stood there quietly.
Then, unexpectedly, he lifted his hands and covered his ears.
She stopped mid-sentence.
"…Are you serious right now?"
"You are loud."
Her anger cracked slightly.
She almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, she huffed and restarted the laptop.
"Don't. Touch. This."
He nodded once.
"What is that device?"
"It's a laptop."
"And that?" he pointed toward the television.
"That's a TV."
"What does it do?"
She stared at him.
"You're kidding."
He wasn't.
She sighed and grabbed the remote.
Within seconds, the television lit up with bright colors and loud music.
He watched silently.
His eyes reflected the flashing images.
"This box contains stories?"
"Yes."
"And they move."
"Yes."
"And speak."
"Yes."
He looked impressed.
"This era is extravagant."
She handed him the remote.
"Press this to change channels."
He pressed it.
The screen changed.
He pressed again.
Another change.
Within moments, he was switching channels rapidly like a child discovering magic.
She shook her head and returned to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, she carried two bowls of simple egg noodles to the table.
"I'm done! Come eat!"
He didn't move.
He was intensely focused on a historical drama scene.
She walked over and blocked the screen.
"You demanded food!"
He stood up immediately.
They sat across from each other.
She handed him chopsticks.
He examined them carefully.
"You use these for battle?"
"For noodles."
He attempted awkwardly at first, then quickly adjusted.
He tasted the broth.
Paused.
Looked at the bowl again.
"What is this called?"
"Egg noodles with soy broth."
He nodded slowly.
"It is… warm."
"That's not a compliment."
A faint smile appeared.
"It is good."
She beamed.
After eating, she cleaned the dishes while he returned to the sofa, experimenting with the remote like a victorious conqueror mastering a new weapon.
Later, she reopened her laptop and resumed typing.
He watched her quietly.
"You required assistance earlier," he said.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're banned from touching electronics."
"I meant knowledge."
She paused.
"You know about ancient seals."
"Yes."
Her eyes lit up.
"Then help me!"
He looked at the screen.
"You wrote insufficient detail."
She gasped dramatically.
"That's rude."
She hesitated.
"Actually… can you explain how sealing formations worked in ancient times?"
He leaned back.
"Complex spiritual matrices designed to suppress existence itself."
She blinked.
"…Can you say that in normal language?"
He sighed faintly.
Before she could ask again, exhaustion overtook her.
Her fingers slowed.
Her head lowered.
And slowly—
She fell asleep on the sofa, laptop still glowing beside her.
Mo Chen stood quietly.
He looked at the screen.
Only scattered bullet points filled the document.
She had asked for help.
He hesitated briefly.
Then lifted his hand.
The keyboard began typing on its own.
Precise.
Detailed.
Structured.
Ancient knowledge flowed into modern words.
When he finished, he saved the file.
Closed the laptop gently.
The room had grown cold.
He turned off the lights.
Went to the bedroom.
Returned with a blanket.
Carefully—
He draped it over her shoulders.
She stirred slightly but didn't wake.
Moonlight slipped through the window, illuminating her face softly.
Her expression was peaceful.
Unaware.
He stood there longer than necessary.
His gaze lingered.
Her blood had awakened him.
But in all his existence—
He had never taken blood through a kiss before.
Why that moment?
Why her?
He reached out unconsciously.
His fingers stopped just short of touching her cheek.
Strange.
The Night Sovereign had conquered countless battles.
Yet now—
He found himself watching a sleeping human under moonlight.
And thinking.
End of Chapter 7...