Chapter 90: The Old Fox, Song Qing'an

"Isn't my embrace incredibly comfortable? So much so that you don't want to leave..." Before Song Qing'an could finish speaking, Qin Sheng had already pulled herself free from his arms. The lingering warmth of his embrace still clung to her, and she couldn't help but feel a hint of nostalgia.

Her cheeks began to heat uncontrollably, and not only her face but her whole body seemed to flush red, her apple cheeks tinted as if dusted with rouge, making her all the more endearing. It wasn't the first time she'd been this close to Song Qing'an, but this time, the proximity made her blush and her heart race, as if a restless fawn were leaping inside her chest, eager to break free.

Unable to meet Song Qing'an's eyes, Qin Sheng feigned nonchalance, lowering her head and saying nothing.

Song Qing'an bent forward slightly, noticing the rosy hue on the girl's face, his eyebrows arched in amusement as if he understood something unspoken. But such feelings could only be sensed, not uttered. He knew that if he teased her any further, Qin Sheng would wish nothing more than to dig a hole and escape. With a soft chuckle, he reached out and took her small hands.

The warmth touched her again, and Qin Sheng was momentarily stunned, letting Song Qing'an lead her to the spot where she had sat just moments before.

"All right, I won't tease you anymore. Sit with me and keep me company," he said, releasing her hands and settling into the seat she had occupied, his manner calm and collected. Seeing her still standing dazedly, he patted the space beside him, inviting her to sit.

Qin Sheng took a deep breath, the flush on her face refusing to fade. She still wanted to flee, feeling that if she didn't escape soon, her cheeks would remain hot forever. What kind of spell had this man cast on her?

Noticing her conflicted expression and furrowed brow, Song Qing'an raised his eyebrows and spoke, "It's just a conversation. You don't intend to do anything else to me, do you?"

Qin Sheng was stunned by his continued act, staring at him in disbelief. Her gaze seemed to ask, "What are you doing? When did I ever intend to do anything to you?"

But Song Qing'an pretended not to notice, adopting a pitiful look as he spoke lightly, "I know I must be fatally attractive to you, but you should respect my innocence, shouldn't you..."

He hadn't finished speaking when someone sat down beside him—Qin Sheng, of course.

With a face full of grievance, Qin Sheng settled next to Song Qing'an, and he finally dropped the act. Half-reclining against the rooftop, his eyes bright with a half-smile, the dark sleeves at his side fluttered in the breeze. The next moment, Qin Sheng felt a weight on her shoulder.

She turned to see Song Qing'an leaning tiredly against her, as if cradling her in his arms. The distance between them was only a fist's width, and she could clearly see his long, thick lashes.

Song Qing'an's entire body leaned toward her, yet she felt no burden. She meant to call his name, but hearing the soft and even breaths at her ear, she fell silent, letting him sleep on her shoulder.

She glanced at Song Qing'an resting on her shoulder, his face radiant and godlike, so close for the first time. His high nose and exquisitely sculpted lips seemed the work of divine hands.

Qin Sheng chuckled softly, wondering what kind of beauty his parents must possess to have produced someone with such striking features.

Of course, she couldn't ignore the dark circles under his eyes—a testament to the hardship he'd endured. Even his normally immaculate clothes were creased, suggesting he had come straight to find her upon returning.

Turning her head, Qin Sheng realized the heat on her face had faded, though her heart had never felt as warm or alive as it did now.

The feeling of being held in someone's thoughts—wasn't it rather nice?

She shook her head and smiled helplessly, leaning slightly toward Song Qing'an, found a comfortable spot, and gradually closed her eyes.

The moonlight was hazy, bathing the two in its glow as they leaned on each other in gentle slumber—a scene both tender and lovely.

When Qin Sheng opened her eyes again, it was already morning.

She didn't know when she had ended up sleeping in her bed, nor when Song Qing'an, who had rested on her shoulder the night before, had left.

But she was certain that seeing Song Qing'an yesterday was no dream; she must have been brought back by him. She hadn't sensed any of it.

Qin Sheng was bewildered—she had never slept so deeply, unaware even of when Song Qing'an had returned her to her room.

She collected her thoughts and saw that Jiang Miaomiao and A Di were still asleep beside her. Quietly, she got up, changed her clothes, and left the room.

To her surprise, Song Qing'an was in the living room, leaning on the sofa drinking water.

When he saw her emerge, his gaze flicked over. Qin Sheng was now sure yesterday was no dream. She took a deep breath and diverted her attention to washing up.

Song Qing'an's greeting caught in his throat and went unsaid.

It wasn't until Jiang Miaomiao and A Di got up and saw Song Qing'an in the room that surprise lit their faces.

"Are you here to see Qin Sheng again?" A Di asked Song Qing'an, wearing an expression that said she knew everything, clearly disregarding Song Qing'an’s previous explanations with Lu Qingyan.

Qin Sheng, drinking water, was startled by A Di’s words and began coughing uncontrollably.

Jiang Miaomiao quickly grabbed tissues from the table and handed them to Qin Sheng, intending to pat her back to help her breathe, but a hand beat her to it.

Song Qing'an gently patted Qin Sheng's back, soothing her, his brows furrowed with concern.

Jiang Miaomiao stood stunned, while A Di pulled her into the kitchen with a knowing smile.

"What’s going on?" Jiang Miaomiao asked, puzzled as A Di drew her into the kitchen.

A Di nodded toward Qin Sheng and Song Qing'an, "Do you think now is the time for you to stand there?"

"What? Isn’t Brother Song just helping Shengsheng catch her breath?"

A Di shook her head, exasperated. She knew the couple she shipped was highly likely to succeed. She’d seen this phenomenon—outsiders see clearly while those involved remain oblivious—countless times.

"Forget it, let's get breakfast ready. We still need to look for Lin Xing at the tournament later." With that, A Di took some bread Qin Sheng had brought back from outside days ago from the cabinet, and Jiang Miaomiao went to help.

The living room was once again left to Qin Sheng and Song Qing'an.

Qin Sheng had finally caught her breath. The thought that Song Qing'an had just helped her made her feel awkward. She held her cup, pondering as she drank, though not actually sipping the water, grateful for the excuse not to look Song Qing'an in the eye.

Watching Qin Sheng hide behind her cup, Song Qing'an’s smile grew brighter, his eyes full of teasing.

"I’ve heard of people burying their heads in bowls, but never hiding in a cup. Isn’t your method of concealment a bit too fresh and unconventional?"

When she heard his words, Qin Sheng instantly set the cup on the table, pulling her lips into a speechless grimace.

She knew nothing good could come from Song Qing'an’s mouth.

"Why are you still here?"

Qin Sheng was perplexed. Usually, after meeting Song Qing'an, he disappeared the next day, but this time, she was surprised to see him still there.

Song Qing'an took a sip of water, raised his eyebrows at her question, his eyes bright with delight. "What’s wrong? Not happy to see me the next day?"

Qin Sheng responded with a roll of her eyes.

Song Qing'an was undeterred by her disdain; his smile only grew.

Qin Sheng noticed his rising smile and seriously suspected he had a masochistic streak.

"Breakfast’s ready!"

A Di and Jiang Miaomiao brought out breakfast—bread and milk.

Compared to the two steamed buns they used to have each day, this was a luxury.

Song Qing'an glanced at the breakfast, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Handsome, it’s already a blessing not to eat dry buns here. Bread and milk—you might not even get this in the core base," A Di said, speaking with her usual familiarity, taking a big bite of bread and mumbling through it.

Jiang Miaomiao nodded in agreement, "Brother Song, don’t be picky. These things were brought back by Shengsheng, risking her life out there."

Song Qing'an turned in surprise to look at Qin Sheng.

She deliberately avoided his gaze, chewing her bread. She didn’t dare endorse the story Jiang Miaomiao and A Di told, or she wouldn’t be able to bear it.

The food, of course, came from her space—danger was hardly involved. The excuse was just to keep her space secret.

Song Qing'an, that old fox, could tell truth from fiction just by looking into her eyes.

So it was better to avoid him.

Seeing Qin Sheng dodge his gaze, Song Qing'an drew his own conclusions. He smiled, taking a portion of bread and milk.

"Of course I’m not picky. I haven’t eaten such things in ages," he said, taking a refined bite of bread.

Though it wasn’t as tasty as the rice balls Qin Sheng made for him, it was still quite good.

As he ate, Song Qing'an looked at the packaging on the milk carton, his eyebrows raised in surprise as his gaze drifted to Qin Sheng.

"It really isn’t easy—the milk expires the day after tomorrow."

Qin Sheng became even more reluctant to meet his eyes.

If only he knew she’d deliberately chosen nearly expired milk to make the story more convincing.

Song Qing'an, oh Song Qing'an, you truly are an old fox.