129: Chapter 129 Tears

"The two of us... haven't been intimate for a long time."

His voice remained low and raspy, yet it carried an unusual bluntness that was completely inconsistent with his current situation and usual character.

It even bore a hint of deliberately crafted, stiff, and cloying ambiguity. "There is still some time. Why don't we... enjoy some tenderness together?"

The word "tenderness" as it came from his mouth...

...sounded exceptionally jarring and awkward, not at all like the whispers shared between lovers.

Instead, it sounded like lines being read from some clumsy script.

"What?!"

Ye Xishui spun around abruptly, her face etched with extreme shock and disbelief.

Her pupils, which usually held a clear light like autumn waters, suddenly contracted into pinpoints due to this massive shock.

She even doubted if her ears had been corrupted by the evil energy in this room, causing her to hallucinate.

The person before her had a gloomy face and shifting eyes, yet he spoke such wanton, ill-timed, and...

...lewd words. Was this really the steady, composed, and noble Junior Brother Chen Zilong she knew?

The companion who fought by her side and trusted her implicitly?

A surge of offended, searing fury then welled up in her heart like lava.

It caused her fair cheeks to instantly flush crimson, even the tips of her ears staining with the color of shame and resentment.

Her breathing became rapid, and her chest heaved violently.

"No! Chen Zilong!"

Her voice rose due to extreme agitation and anger, carrying a sharp questioning that nearly pierced through the oppressive atmosphere. Every word seemed squeezed from between her teeth. "Look at what time it is!"

She pointed toward the door. Though separated by the door panels, the invisible sense of crisis felt close at hand. "A great enemy is before us, and the truth is still unknown!"

"The village is full of weirdness everywhere, and there are still four Female Corpses lying in the well waiting for us to give them justice!"

"How... how can you be thinking about this kind of thing!"

Her eyes were filled with estrangement and massive disappointment, as if she were truly seeing the person before her for the first time.

That gaze was like cold needles, stabbing into Chen Zilong.

Chen Zilong stood there, facing her storm-like reprimand with no expression on his face.

There was no shame from having his thoughts exposed, nor any confusion from surging lust.

There was only a stagnant, chilling silence.

And beneath that silence, a hint of something he tried his best to hide, yet was keenly captured by Ye Xishui...

Was that pain?

A bone-deep, struggling agony.

Had it flashed for an instant in the depths of his eyes?

No!

She must have seen it wrong!

It was an illusion caused by her being dazed with anger at his shameless behavior!

Ye Xishui immediately dismissed the ridiculous thought.

She only felt a cold chill rapidly climbing up her spine, instantly spreading through her entire body.

This wasn't just the anger of being offended; it was mixed with a fear of the person before her suddenly becoming a stranger, even someone eerie.

"If there's nothing else, I'm leaving!"

She could no longer stay in this suffocating room for another moment; every extra second made her feel incredibly disgusted and filled her with a hair-raising unease.

She reached out abruptly, yanked the door open, and slammed it shut with all her strength.

"Bang—!"

The loud sound of the door closing exploded in the small room like a clap of thunder, echoing violently and shaking dust from the beams to dance chaotically in the dim shafts of light.

Afterward, everything returned to a dead silence, heavier and more unsettling than before, as if that loud bang had drained the last bit of life away.

Only Chen Zilong remained in the room.

He maintained his previous posture, motionless, like a stone statue that had its soul and life drained away in an instant, frozen in a desperate space-time.

The dim light outlined his iron-stiff profile and his lips pressed into a tight line.

His chest heaved slightly but with extreme difficulty, as if every breath pulled at his internal organs.

Then, a crystal droplet, without warning, broke free from the end of his lowered, thick eyelashes and quietly fell.

With a tiny, faint 'tap,' it hit the dusty, dry floor beneath his feet.

It bloomed into a small, dark dot, like a bitter mark.

Then came a second drop, a third...

The teardrops formed a line, silently winding down.

Looking up, tears were silently and surgingly overflowing from his tightly closed eyes, sliding down his tense, slightly twitching cheeks, leaving cold, wet tracks.

His lips began to tremble uncontrollably, as if a sob was about to break through the blockade.

He gritted his teeth hard, the force making his jawline tighten and the muscles on his cheeks bulge, as if he were fighting against some heart-wrenching agony that could not be spoken aloud.

That face, which had originally tried to maintain calm and even deliberately show frivolity, was now completely eroded by a deep, thick sadness that could not be dissolved.

His brows were tightly locked, as if tied in an eternal dead knot.

The corners of his eyes were visibly flushed, the redness spreading all the way to his temples.

Every tiny muscle twitch and every silent gasp told of an unspeakable suffering that no one could empathize with.

He did not let out a single sob.

There was only a slight, irrepressible trembling of his shoulders.

And those constantly rolling, scalding tears proved the existence of the storm raging wildly in the silence.

Tears dripped from his chin, some falling into the dust, others blooming into deeper, patches of wet stains on his dark lapel.

In the dust beneath his feet, the tears quietly gathered, forming a small, barely noticeable patch of dark moisture, like the silent blood flowing in his heart.

In this suffocating dead silence and gloom...

...his crying was entirely silent, suppressed to the extreme.

Yet because of this, it appeared more desperate and desolate than any loud wailing, as if even crying itself had become a luxury that was not allowed.

In the entire room, there was only this silent rain of tears.

And the tomb-like silence outside the window reflected each other, forming a desolate and eerie tableau.