Chapter 43: Let Me Touch It, Okay?

“Can I touch it?”

Shao Ye’s voice carried a teasing edge, but his eyes burned with raw, unguarded hunger.

Lu Zhanxing leaned in closer, the air between them charged and electric. Lowering his head just enough to make Shao Ye’s breath hitch, he murmured softly, “You’re my partner. No one else gets to touch—just you.”

The soft, fuzzy ears had already wrecked Shao Ye’s composure. Screw dignity. Screw the whole alpha male act. Those damn ears were too cute, too inviting, too perfect. Fluffy and pristine, they shattered his resistance like a wrecking ball through glass, flipping his rigid, straight-laced worldview on its head.

His fingers grazed them—soft as clouds, smoother than petting a cat or dog. And that scent? Not some wet dog stench, but a faint, intoxicating whiff of oleander. Sweet, seductive, dangerous. It was the kind of scent that could pull a man under, and Shao Ye was already sinking fast, drowning in it.

Shao Ye couldn’t resist giving it a squeeze. Lu Zhanxing’s muffled groan came low, deep, and almost helpless.

Caught off guard, Shao Ye tensed. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

Lu Zhanxing shook his head, a flicker of shy embarrassment crossing his face. “Not pain,” he murmured, “just… ears and tail are sensitive, that’s all. By the way, what’s your beast form, Ah Ye?”

Shao Ye’s expression stayed bland. “No idea. Probably a butterfly or something. I’ve got a gland defect—never shifted before. My little sister turned into a Bright Goddess Butterfly after her split, so maybe I’d be the same.”

“Bright Goddess Butterfly?” Lu Zhanxing echoed, his tone thoughtful as his gaze lit up with admiration. “That’s incredible. They’re the royalty of butterflies—dazzling, mysterious, top of their class.”

Shao Ye scowled, a grumble brewing in his chest. “Yeah, well, what good does that do me? It’s got ‘goddess’ in the name. How’s that supposed to match a man like me?”

Lu Zhanxing chuckled softly, his voice smooth as silk. “The Bright Goddess Butterfly has another name, you know. It’s called the Helena Flashwing.”

Shao Ye huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Big deal. Ever heard that saying? ‘Butterflies can’t cross the ocean.’ Even after breaking out of their cocoons, they’ve got what—days to live? Doesn’t exactly scream good fortune, does it?”

Inwardly, Shao Ye couldn’t help but brood. Maybe he was cursed with some connection to butterflies because of a short life in his past one. All he wanted now was to live long enough to shake that unlucky stigma.

What Shao Ye didn’t know was that the Helena Flashwing wasn’t just any butterfly. It lived the longest of its kind and thrived on what others couldn’t—flirting with poisonous flowers, gliding through danger without a care.

But Shao Ye’s focus was elsewhere. His hand had wandered back to Lu Zhanxing’s ears, then down to the swaying tail that seemed to mock him with every flick. It was taunting him, practically begging to be grabbed.

And grab it he did. Without warning, his fingers clamped around that bushy tail, firm and unapologetic.

Lu Zhanxing’s body jolted like he’d been hit with a live wire. His teeth bit into his lower lip, suppressing a shaky gasp before his breathy voice broke through. “Ah Ye…”

Shao Ye wasn’t above playing innocent. Eyes wide, voice coaxing, he leaned in close. “Come on, just let me touch it a little, yeah?”

Lu Zhanxing’s chest rose and fell, every breath heavy with something Shao Ye couldn’t quite name. Finally, with his eyes shut tight, Lu Zhanxing’s voice dipped into a quiet surrender. “Go ahead.”

Shao Ye’s grin stretched wide, victorious. He wasted no time running his hands along the soft fur, pulling the tail close and rubbing it against his face and neck like it was the plushiest treasure he’d ever known. The sensation was nothing short of heaven—warm, soothing, and addictively comforting.

Minutes turned into half an hour before Shao Ye finally stopped, utterly satisfied. It was only then he noticed Lu Zhanxing. His face was flushed crimson, damp with sweat, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a jolt straight to Shao Ye’s gut.

Lu Zhanxing looked like a man starving, and Shao Ye was the feast.

A pang of realization struck Shao Ye.

Had he been too into it?

Was all that tail-petting enough to light a fire that couldn’t be put out?

Before he could say anything, Lu Zhanxing lifted his gaze, voice low and almost pleading. “Ah Ye… help me out here, will you?”

Shao Ye looked absolutely baffled, blurting out, “Lu-ge, have you forgotten you’re a big bad wolf, not some house cat? I’ve been stroking your damn tail for half an hour already, isn’t that enough?”

Lu Zhanxing pressed his lips together, his cheeks flushing faintly as he muttered, “Help… with something else.”

“Something else? Where?” Shao Ye asked reflexively. But as the words left his mouth, a realization hit him like a truck. His gaze slid down instinctively, and when the implications hit, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

His face ignited like someone had thrown gasoline on it. Without missing a beat, he dove under the covers, curling up tight like a hedgehog fending off an attack. “I… You! Get up right now, head out the door, turn left, and don’t stop walking. Ever. I can’t help you with that!”

Lu Zhanxing’s voice came back soft and pitiful, “But it’s your fault. I warned you how sensitive my tail is.”

Shao Ye stared blankly, mentally cursing every decision that had led him here.

Who the hell would’ve thought that kind of sensitivity even existed?

This wasn’t just shooting himself in the foot—it was planting a landmine and jumping on it.

“Nope. Nope, not happening!” Shao Ye snapped, his tone final as a judge slamming a gavel. “You’re the one with no self-control. Don’t even try blaming me.”

With that, he yanked the blanket tighter, practically fortifying himself inside a fortress of fabric. No way in hell was he budging.

Lu Zhanxing, realizing he’d already burned too much goodwill with Shao Ye, didn’t push the issue. He muttered something under his breath, got up, and headed out to handle the “problem” himself.

Hours later, when Lu Zhanxing finally strolled back into the room, he looked noticeably fresh—clean clothes, damp hair, and the scent of soap still clinging to him. Shao Ye seized the chance to steer the conversation far away from earlier.

“Lu-ge, weren’t we trapped on that pirate-infested shithole? How’d we get out?” he asked, curiosity laced with lingering disbelief.

Lu Zhanxing answered casually, like he was describing the weather. “Wiped them all out.”

Shao Ye froze, his jaw hanging open like a broken hinge. For a long moment, he couldn’t get a word out.

“What the fuck?! That’s how you roll? Then—then what about my sacrifices? What was the point of all that? A goddamn funeral rehearsal?!”

Lu Zhanxing, unfazed by Shao Ye’s outrage, added, “It was just a pirate outpost. Not long after I found you, a special ops team came in with a squad from the Alliance military. They torched the place. All the slaves they’d taken were sent back to their families or placed in shelters.”

Shao Ye’s initial shock faded into worry. “What about the rebel army? It’s been seven days. Ah Lan must’ve noticed I’m gone by now.”

He knew full well what this meant. Running off with Lu Zhanxing wasn’t just breaking a promise—it was setting his sister off like a live grenade. Ah Lan wasn’t the forgiving type. Between her volatility and unhinged streak, he couldn’t even guess how bad the fallout would be.

Shao Ye had noticed Lu Zhanxing avoiding the topic ever since he woke up. Now that he was asking directly, Lu’s reluctance to answer only stoked his anxiety.

“Lu-ge, spit it out already! Did something happen to Ah Lan? Or—oh god—what did she do?” Shao Ye demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

Lu Zhanxing’s voice wavered, caught between guilt and urgency. “Ah Ye, calm down. Don’t stress the baby.”

The words hit Shao Ye like a bucket of ice water, chilling him to his core. A storm of unease raged in his chest, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, masking his panic behind a façade of control. “I’m fine. Just cut the crap and spill it. Don’t hold back.”

Lu Zhanxing’s expression darkened, his tone dropping to a grave register. “The ceasefire negotiations between the Rebels and the Alliance have completely collapsed. Five days ago, the Rebels officially declared war on all eight star systems under the Alliance. The Eighth System’s already fallen—they’ve turned it into a base of operations. Their next target? The Seventh System and the Dust District. It’s already started.”

Shao Ye’s fingers twitched. He’d braced for bad news, but this—this was the nightmare he’d been praying to avoid. His shoulders betrayed a subtle shudder. “...Full-scale war?”

Lu Zhanxing let out a tired sigh, the weariness in his voice doing nothing to dull its steel edge. “Ah Ye, this war was inevitable. It doesn’t matter who’s leading the Rebels, and it sure as hell isn’t your fault.”

It was a cheap reassurance, and they both knew it. Shao Ye wasn’t dumb enough to think he had the power to spark an interstellar bloodbath, but that didn’t stop the guilt from clawing at his insides. He didn’t want this war. He didn’t want any of it. And he especially didn’t want to see the two people he cared about most rip each other apart.

His lips trembled as he tried to speak. “Lu-ge, I—”

Lu Zhanxing cut him off, sharp and unrelenting. “Don’t even start, Ah Ye. You can’t change your sister’s mind. Haven’t you figured it out yet? She’s not the innocent little girl you remember. Her ambition’s bigger than any Alpha out there. Ruthless. Cold-blooded. She’s a goddamn predator now.”

“I know!“ Shao Ye snarled through clenched teeth, his voice cracking under the weight of pain and fury. “I know, but... but—”

The rest of his words died in his throat, crushed under the suffocating weight of reality. It didn’t matter who won this war. The loser would be annihilated, left to rot in the void of space, unclaimed and unmourned. And no matter which side it was, Shao Ye would be broken. He’d either lose his family or spend the rest of his life with the person who destroyed it.

The agony of it cut deeper than death. A wound that wouldn’t heal. A punishment that wouldn’t end.

“My whole damn life,” Shao Ye whispered, his voice raw and broken, “I’ve only ever wanted to see her grow up safe, free, happy. But fate—fate just had to screw me over, didn’t it? It turned her into a goddamn dragon. And then it made me fall for the knight sworn to kill her. How’s that for a joke?”

Tears streaked down his face before he could stop them. He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

Lu Zhanxing’s chest tightened as he watched. He hated seeing Ah Ye like this, hated feeling so powerless. Gently, he pulled the younger man into his arms, pressing Shao Ye’s head against his shoulder. “Ah Ye,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “I’ll do everything I can to keep her alive.”

But even as he said it, Lu Zhanxing knew how empty the promise was. “Everything” wasn’t much in a war like this. And “alive” was a fragile, fleeting thing.