A second chance with my billionaire husband-Chapter 1571 - 309: I Will Protect Your Warmth (Part 2)

The distant sound of waves crashing is heard, seagulls flap their wings and circle across the sky; everything is eerily quiet.

In a room of darkness, the young man suddenly opens his eyes.

What kind of eyes were they, as if penetrating through layers of night, traversing life, death, fortune, and grief; tranquil, vast, and joyous, immersed in that black gaze.

Bright enough to dazzle in the night.

Meanwhile, in the far-off Capital City, on a cold, lonely rooftop, Mingyue, lost in thought with arms folded, suddenly raises a hand to her chest, her face paling, and the long-calm, indifferent eyes now filled with incredulous joy.

Master, I finally sense your presence...

The pair of eyes appeared momentarily bewildered.

Where is this?

The sound of waves hitting the shore is heard in my ears; could this be by the seaside?

He sits up, but due to lying in bed for too long, his muscles are stiff, causing him to fall heavily back down.

He takes a deep breath and tries to sit up again. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He raises his gaze to scan the surroundings; all around is pitch black, light spilling through the windows, casting a faint glow in the room.

With the help of this light, he managed to roughly discern the layout of the room.

His gaze could even penetrate layers of darkness to clearly see the tiny calligraphy on the painting on the wall.

A feeling of a spiritual sense extending everywhere.

He closed his eyes, hearing footsteps downstairs, very light and faint, yet they couldn’t escape his hearing; outside, in the square, there were at least three patrol teams, each with no fewer than five people...

He could even hear the distant sound of a military ship’s horn on the coast.

Suddenly, a sound of footsteps outside the window; he immediately lay down and closed his eyes to pretend to sleep.

The door was gently pushed open from outside, and a maid entered carrying a tray.

Seeing the young man was still asleep, the maid placed the tray on the table, took a cloth to wipe the young man’s face, hands, and feet; after completing the basic cleaning procedures, she scooped a spoonful of sugar water to moisten the young man’s lips, the sugar water flowing down the mouth’s corners, the maid skillfully wiped it with the cloth.

Once all was done, the maid took out a syringe filled with transparent liquid, pulled up the young man’s sleeve, revealing a fair and lean forearm, covered in small, purple puncture marks, quite conspicuous on the lotus-like white skin.

The maid injected the young man’s arm; his brows furrowed slightly, but due to the dim night, it went unnoticed by the maid.

Not until the maid’s footsteps disappeared, the bedroom door closed again, did the room return to silence.

The young man opened his eyes again, fingers instinctively landing on his arm, his gaze shadowy, indistinct.

He stretched out his hands, watching them in the dark; the fingers were long and graceful, the skin tender as a newborn’s, devoid of calluses from years of sword practice or scars left by battlefield slaughter... These hands, as beautiful as artworks.

He hesitantly lifted his hand to his face, touching it inch by inch, from the glabella to the brows, nose bridge, down to the thin lips... that gaze slowly turned from quiet to delighted then to incredulous... eventually, it settled into calm.

"Oh...." he opened his mouth, but could only utter a hoarse, monosyllabic sound, followed by a fiery pain as if torn apart; he clenched his throat with both hands, and only by squeezing did he make his throat feel slightly better.

After the wave of pain passed, he tried to open his mouth, though he could still only produce a blurred monosyllable, he was already quite pleased.

It seemed like an instinct of the body; he had an inexplicable obsession with speaking.

He intended to get out of bed when his feet touched the ground, his body swayed abruptly; he retreated a step, holding onto the bed’s edge, flickering images flashed across his mind.

He shook his head, the pain growing ever more intense.

Suddenly, he clutched his head, rolling onto the floor, overwhelming memories came flooding in, those painful, sad, joyous memories... like a kaleidoscope swiftly playing out in his mind like slides.

Eighteen years of life can be recalled in a mere moment, and within those memories, from start to finish, there was only one person.

From infancy to youth, to adolescence... that person took on a world for him with her frail shoulders; whenever danger arose, she always charged ahead, leaving a gentle harbor for him, like a warrior, she progressed without fear, dedicating all her strength to construct an ivory tower for him, she embraced the darkness and pain herself, leaving warmth and purity in his world.