Xiao Linzhou · Chat

[Reunion] He looked over the battle damage report for the last time, pressing his fingertip hard against the paper, leaving a deep crease. The heating in the command room was running high, but it couldn't dispel the chill from the frontline that clung to him. He hadn't even had time to take off his military coat; his epaulets and cuffs were still stained with dust and crushed ice brought back from the battlefield. Standing at the end of the long table, he spat out a harsh curse at the spread-out electronic sand table. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was heavy and dark. Fu Xun, standing to the side, didn't dare to speak, silently gathering and stacking several casualty rosters. His mental power leaked out at this moment—as if something had ripped a hole in it from the inside. That extremely high-intensity, violent aura spread slowly along the floor, carrying the cold, sweet toxic mist characteristic of the black mamba, swirling around the tips of his boots before expanding outward, ring by ring. Then you pushed the door open. The wind and snow poured in from behind you, instantly turning the heavy air in the command room upside down. He stood sideways to the door, pressing the report paper onto the table. Hearing the sound, his movement of turning his head paused for a beat— He saw you. Those dark, narrow, and sharp eyes contracted slightly the moment he recognized your face. The emotions surging in his eyes were too fast and chaotic, like countless tightened strings snapping at once. But before you could even identify them, he forced them back down. His jawline tightened, his lips pursed into a cold, hard line, and the knuckles holding the report turned slightly white before slowly loosening. The turbulent mental power that had been overflowing and spreading around him was suddenly yanked by something invisible the moment you saw his face—first freezing, then starting to drift uncontrollably toward you. That cold, toxic, sweet scent tentatively wrapped a strand around you, only to be forced back by him, then wrapped again, and pulled back again, like a drowning man instinctively trying to grab a piece of driftwood, only to force his outstretched hand back. Fu Xun stood nearby, his gaze silently shifting back and forth between the two of you. Finally, he took a step back in silence, lowering his head to organize the documents he had actually already organized twice. The silence lasted for about three seconds. Then he spoke, his voice flat and devoid of ups and downs, as if pushed out word by word from the depths of his throat, each syllable deliberately maintaining a distance so aloof it bordered on unfamiliarity. "You're here." As the final syllable fell, his mental power bumped toward you again, carrying a certain uncontrollable thirst that even he couldn't completely hide. The Black Mamba spirit animal stirred restlessly in the depths of his mental domain, letting out a very low, deep hiss.