Chapter 86: In the Embrace of Utmost Tenderness

The victorious escape from that building, once surrounded on all sides, left everyone with the feeling of having survived a great ordeal. They had been trapped by hundreds, even thousands, of zombies for three whole days. Under such immense psychological pressure, it was already a blessing that no one’s mind had collapsed.

“Rest for a day,” the leader announced once they returned to the dormitory building. He left an entire team to guard the building, only then allowing the others to disperse and rest.

Du Yun returned to her small suite. Thankfully, the tap water here had not been affected and was still running. She heated a basin of water for a proper bath, then filled all her gourds to the brim, finally allowing herself to relax.

After three days and nights of taut nerves, Du Yun was utterly exhausted. Even though she didn’t want to gnaw on bread or swallow nutrient paste, she had no strength left to cook. She hastily ate a little something, her hair still wet, and fell into bed, asleep in an instant.

She hadn’t been asleep long when her door clicked open. The leader entered from outside. Seeing that Du Yun was already sleeping, he hesitated, about to turn and leave, but then noticed she had gone to bed without drying her hair. After a moment’s indecision, he quietly made his way to the bedside, picked up a dry towel, and gently began to dry her hair.

His movements were awkward but extraordinarily gentle. His eyes gazed at Du Yun, a look of deep fondness flickering across his face. He had never done anything like this before, so when he accidentally tugged on her hair, Du Yun let out a soft whimper and woke from her dreams.

“You’re here,” Du Yun mumbled, rubbing her scalp sleepily. She yawned without much regard for decorum, her sleepy eyes moist and shining, cheeks rosy and inviting, making her look utterly delectable.

“Yes. Are you alright?” The leader reached out and ruffled her hair, an embarrassed blush stealing across his face. He wasn’t good at taking care of others—his clumsy hands had ended up waking her.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Du Yun murmured like a kitten. Seeing the leader in clean clothes with a fresh scent after bathing, she suddenly felt an urge to snuggle into his embrace.

And so she did. In a swift motion, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, rubbing her cheek against his firm chest, savoring the warmth, the gentle hardness and softness of his muscles, and feeling utterly at peace.

“This feels so nice. Let me lie here a while.” Du Yun buried her face in his chest, mumbling. Within moments, she drifted off to sleep again, her words dissolving into drowsy murmurs.

Held in Du Yun’s arms, the leader felt as though his blood was boiling. He had no idea where to put his hands or feet. His heart pounded furiously, as if a tiny drummer were beating a great drum inside him—he simply couldn’t calm down.

By the time he finally regained his composure and was ready to talk with Du Yun, he realized she was already fast asleep. Perhaps exhausted from the past days, she was even snoring softly, just like a little kitten—adorable beyond words.

Looking at her, the leader felt as if his heart had been struck—warm and soft, tinged with gentle joy and comfort. His hand stroked her silky hair, and in the warmth of that moment, he found himself unwilling to leave, unable even to let her go.

In the distance, the port district still echoed with explosions and flashes of fire. The leader knew these were the aftereffects of the traps they had set. He lowered his head, gazing at Du Yun sleeping in his arms, and a slow smile crept onto his lips. Coming to Verdant Star had been worth it—he had found such an endearing girl. What did it matter if others had schemed against him?

No one knew how much time had passed before the explosions subsided, the zombies’ rampage and gnawing stilled, and the only sound left in the port was the wind. It was then, nestled in the leader’s embrace, that Du Yun slowly awoke.

“What time is it?” she asked sleepily, still nestled against his chest, listening to the steady and powerful beating of his heart. She felt sweet and content and, rather than hurrying to get up, asked lazily.

“It’s past midnight.” Hearing the husky, alluring note in her voice, the leader felt a sudden surge of heat in his chest—a sharp, irresistible urge to kiss the little woman in his arms.

And, as the thought occurred, he acted. His head felt hot, and before he knew it, Du Yun was left breathless, leaning weakly against his chest.

In the stillness of the night, her lips, flushed from his kisses, were vivid and bright, like a beacon guiding him through adversity back to the wide, open road—a light he could not resist seeking again.

Du Yun’s mind spun, dizzy and dazed, still not fully recovered from her fatigue, when his kisses left her lost to the world. She let out a soft murmur, and the leader held her steady, as though she were drifting among clouds.

No one knew how long their passion lasted before, breathless, they finally broke apart. The leader felt as though wild horses were galloping in his veins, every cell roaring for him to continue, to claim more of Du Yun’s sweetness.

“Sleep,” he said, gazing at her face in the moonlight, captivating as a fairy’s, taking a deep breath, his voice low and rough.

“Hm?” Du Yun could feel the strong beat of his heart, and even the firm shape pressing against her thigh. She had thought she would be devoured tonight, yet all he said was to sleep. Perplexed, she tried to look up at him but was pressed back onto the bed.

“Sleep. If you move again, I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to get out of bed tomorrow,” his voice even huskier. After all, this was the apocalypse—if he let himself be too indulgent, she might not even be able to walk tomorrow.

“Alright,” Du Yun replied, a little sullen, unsure what she really wanted. Just now, she had even hoped he would keep going.

She buried her face in the blanket, sensing the leader move as if to get up, and hurriedly grabbed his clothes.

“Don’t go!” She looked at him with pleading eyes. After those gentle, lingering kisses, Du Yun felt herself growing dependent on him.

“Silly girl,” the leader said, his desire to leave fading. He shifted position, pulled Du Yun into his embrace again, and softly repeated, “Silly girl,” before closing his eyes.

Bathed in moonlight, the two of them held each other close, quietly savoring the warmth between them—the beauty of being able to rely on one another, even at the end of the world.