67: The mouth was covered under the futon

Gulp.

A crisp sound of swallowing echoed through the deathly silent dormitory, sounding soul-shakingly loud.

Wang Fugui's body stiffened completely, every muscle tightening like a block of iron. His brain buzzed, crashing entirely.

"I'm cold."

Her lips were pressed against his ear, her breath trembling as she whispered with a hint of grievance.

Wang Fugui wasn't a fool; naturally, he didn't believe her. In the middle of summer, with the electric fan whirring away, how could she be cold?

But as it happened, he had a unique constitution—his body temperature was significantly higher than average, making him a walking furnace. This excuse, when applied to him, seemed seamless, leaving him without a single reason to refute it.

What was even more lethal was that although she said she was cold, her body was shockingly hot.

It was a searing heat that radiated from her very bones, carrying both despair and longing.

He wanted to say something, even if it was just a single word.

Just then, a drop of scalding liquid fell from above without warning, landing precisely on his arm.

That temperature was even hotter than her body, causing his heart to jerk violently.

This wasn't sweat.

Was it... tears?

Wang Fugui's mind instantly became a tangled mess of thread.

He could carry hundreds of pounds of cargo without a change in expression, fight dozens of thugs with his bare hands, and even drink a cup of lethal drugged wine in one gulp to save her.

But what he feared most were a woman's tears.

Especially the tears of a woman he had just dragged out of an abyss—someone bruised, battered, and homeless.

Her assertiveness during the day and her seduction tonight both seemed so fragile in the face of this single tear, as thin and vulnerable as window paper.

Is she... crying?

Why?

Was it because she remembered that animal of a husband, Zhang Qiang? Or was it because she felt wronged by the people at the factory pointing fingers at her during the day?

Wang Fugui's head was filled with various guesses. That surging physiological impulse was scattered to the winds by this sudden surge of heartache and confusion.

His chest felt tight as the urge to protect her overrode everything else once again.

He instinctively wanted to speak, to ask her, "What's wrong?"

"Stinky Fugui... mine... don't steal..."

On the bed, Lin Xiaocao suddenly let out a muddled sleep-talk, her voice filled with a bossy sense of possessiveness.

This single sentence was like a sudden clap of thunder, exploding in the ears of Wang Fugui and Chen Yun.

Every hair on Wang Fugui's body stood on end, and his heart nearly jumped out of his throat. He instinctively held his breath, not daring to move, as rigid as a stone statue.

In his arms, Chen Yun also jerked violently. Her entire body tensed up, and her breathing stopped.

It's over!

Only those two words remained in Wang Fugui's mind.

He could almost imagine the next second: Lin Xiaocao bolting upright, clicking on the desk lamp, and then witnessing this vivid scene of "adultery."

The consequences... he didn't dare think about them.

The dormitory fell back into a deathly silence, with only the electric fan tirelessly shaking its head.

One second.

Two seconds.

Ten seconds.

The person on the bed merely rolled over, making a rustling sound of fabric rubbing together, before her breathing became steady and long once more.

Was the alarm... cleared?

Wang Fugui let out a long, silent breath of turbid air, realizing his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

This was more thrilling than getting into a damn fight.

As for Chen Yun in his arms, after experiencing this scare, she seemed to have exhausted the last of her strength. She stopped her provocative movements and simply buried her face deep into his chest, her body trembling slightly like a small animal that had found its only sanctuary in a storm.

The silent weeping continued.

Drop after drop of tears soaked the tank top on his chest, completely softening the defenses in his heart.

Push her away?

If he pushed her away now, would it make too much noise and wake Lin Xiaocao up again?

Besides, she was crying so sorrowfully and looked so fragile; wouldn't he be a complete jerk to push her away now?

Wang Fugui's mind was a mess.

He didn't know what to do.

His body continued to heat up because of her soft closeness, while his heart kept aching because of her tears.

These two completely different sensations tore at him, making him incredibly uncomfortable.

Ultimately, that protective instinct rooted in his bones won out.

His stiff arms hesitated in the darkness for a long time before finally lifting slowly and landing gently, tentatively, on Chen Yun's trembling back.

Then, as if making a decision, he tightened his arms slightly, drawing the silently weeping woman closer into his embrace.

Forget it.

Even if the sky falls, we'll deal with it tomorrow.

For now, let her cry her fill.

As soon as this thought emerged, the fatigue of the past few days combined with tonight's heart-pounding ordeal finally became too much for him to bear.

The strong masculine scent intertwined with the woman's faint fragrance, creating a strange hypnotic effect.

Wang Fugui's consciousness began to blur.

Before he lost consciousness completely, he only felt that the woman in his arms no longer seemed so cold, nor was she trembling.

She simply buried herself deeper and more greedily into his embrace.

He was lying next to a powder keg about to explode, and the fuse was that foot dangling in mid-air.

If that foot dropped just a bit further, or if the person on the bed rolled over again... he didn't dare think any further.

The entirety of Dormitory 301 fell into an eerie, extreme silence.

Only that foot continued to sway gently, back and forth, completely unaware, as if measuring the nerve between Wang Fugui and Chen Yun that had already been stretched to its limit.