That night, Hu Xiaoyu regretted not agreeing to move upstairs.
A storm broke suddenly, thunder booming as though it could rattle the very bones from his body. Sweat drenched him; pain surged through every limb, as if lightning itself had seared him.
He forgot entirely about the rule of never going upstairs without permission. Instinct alone drove him—he had to find Yu Tan.
With him there, the thunder would never strike.
But… which room was his?
Hu Xiaoyu's spiritual energy flared outward in desperation, locking instantly onto Yu Tan's presence. He pounded at the door with both fists, frantic.
The door swung open just in time for a blanket-wrapped figure to tumble headlong inside.
Yu Tan caught him by the waist before he could hit the floor, lifting him effortlessly upright. Hu Xiaoyu's legs gave way, trembling. He clung to Yu Tan's waist, burying his face against his chest.
"Yu Tan… thunder…" His voice was muffled, broken.
Outside, a white flash lit up the sky. The light streaked across Yu Tan's sharp features, catching on the curve of his cheekbones and the faint smile tugging at his lips.
He did not push the boy away. Nor did he return the embrace. His eyes, dark as an abyss, gleamed faintly with amusement.
Warmth was always an illusion. Suspicion was the truth.
So—was this little fox using thunder as an excuse to throw himself into his arms?
Over the years, countless had tried to approach Yu Tan. But he was never a man driven by lust. He only sought release when his mind was unbalanced—through violence, or through bed.
The last time had been three months ago, after visiting a psychiatric ward. He'd brought home two companions, knocked one out cold, and barely found relief by dawn.
Since then, he had felt no need.
But this boy—soft, stubborn, silly—was not entirely unpleasant to hold.
If Hu Xiaoyu truly harbored feelings for him… well, he would not mind.
Unaware of Yu Tan's thoughts, Hu Xiaoyu only felt safe.
The moment pulled him back to a century ago, when he had fallen from the demon realm into a filthy, rain-soaked alley.
He had curled up, trembling, hiding in human form lest someone boil him into soup. Then—suddenly—the rain ceased against his skin. He looked up, and saw that calm, watchful face.
Yu Tan, holding an umbrella, had taken him home.
Foxes should never fear thunder. The thunder gods punished evil—yet once, Hu Xiaoyu had seen a clansman reduced to ash before his very eyes.
Losing a tail had triggered heavenly retribution. The lightning had ceased halfway, but the pain carved itself into Hu Xiaoyu's soul. Ever since, thunder terrified him.
Now, trembling, he pressed one cheek against Yu Tan's chest, then guided the man's hand up to cover his ear.
Much better.
Check the weather every day from now on, he vowed groggily. No more surprises.
Above him came Yu Tan's voice, unusually soft: "Scared?"
Hu Xiaoyu nodded furiously, clutching him tighter.
Yu Tan's arm circled his waist. He tested the boy's slim frame through the damp shirt—so thin, almost fragile. Likely pale beneath, too.
Without another word, he swept Hu Xiaoyu up and set him on the bed.
Though his own complexion was ghostly pale, Yu Tan lifted him with ease, as though he weighed nothing at all.
Nestling against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Hu Xiaoyu looked up and asked sweetly, "Can I sleep here?"
Outside, thunder rolled again like a threat that refused to fade. But within Yu Tan's room, he felt safe.
Yu Tan chuckled low in his throat. "You can—after a bath."
The words jolted Hu Xiaoyu from his stupor. His eyes widened in horror. A bath? Now? He hated baths!
But sweat plastered his hair on his temples. He had tangled himself in a blanket, sticky and damp. Of course, Yu Tan wouldn't tolerate it.
Think, think— His mind raced. With a flash of inspiration, he summoned a thread of spiritual energy and whispered a cleansing spell.
Barely a second later, he straightened up, fresh as new, and declared innocently, "No need. I already showered. Really."
Then—cool fingers slid beneath his shirt.
Yu Tan's voice followed, velvet-soft but edged with threat: "Oh really? I'll be the judge of that."