CHAPTER 82: MEETING

The station was their den.

And at the center of it all, the guy who was lounging on a broken bench like a self-crowned king seemed to be their leader.

He looked to be in his twenties, tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp brows and a smile that seemed to drip honey. His jacket was torn open at the collar, revealing a gleam of a chain necklace and a chest marked with faint scars. His voice carried easily as he laughed with those closest to him, and his every gesture seemed carefully rehearsed to radiate charisma.

If Ling Yu hadn’t lived this once before, if she hadn’t seen what hid behind that kind smile in her last life, she might have believed him to be the protector he pretended to be. But she knew better than that. The sweet words, warm welcomes were all just false generosity, these were his weapons. And once people grew dependent, once they thought safety came from him, he would bleed them dry.

"New face!" he called out as if he had sensed her the moment she stepped into view. His tone was warm, rich with the cadence of someone used to winning trust easily.

He rose smoothly to his feet, spreading his arms like an old friend greeting her. "Welcome, welcome! You’ve survived this far, that means you’ve got guts. Come, come closer. You’ll find safety here."

Eyes turned toward her as survivors paused in their tasks. Some curious, some envious, some wary. But most softened when they noticed the little ball of fur on her shoulder.

Fluffy blinked at them with wide, liquid eyes, then let out a perfectly timed coo. A ripple of laughter and softened expressions spread through the crowd. Even the children peeked out from their corners, their fear momentarily replaced by wonder.

Ling Yu’s lips curved faintly, not into a smile, but something close to that. Fluffy had, unintentionally, smoothed her entrance.

Still, she didn’t let her guard down. She moved with calm, deliberate steps, her posture neither submissive nor confrontational, and inclined her head faintly at the so-called leader.

"Your hospitality is noted," she said quietly.

The man’s eyes gleamed with interest at her measured poise, but before he could respond, another familiar voice broke through the noise.

"Master!"

Ling Yu turned around to see the person.

Butler Song was striding toward her, his usually reserved composure breaking into rare relief. His uniform was tattered, the neat lines of his once-immaculate attire marred with dirt and bloodstains, but his bearing was unchanged, the same straight-backed, disciplined, his sharp eyes still calm despite exhaustion.

Trailing behind him were two others: Nie Ziyu, the young prince with his delicate features set into a stubborn scowl, and Ye Qingxue, her long hair tied back, her expression both relieved and restrained as she spotted Ling Yu.

They had made it.

For the first time that day, something in Ling Yu’s chest loosened.

"You’re all here," she said simply, her voice steady, but the undertone of quiet certainty carried volumes.

"Yes," Song replied with a faint smile. "As promised."

Ling Yu didn’t have to worry about these other two, but she couldn’t feel assured whether it was really Song that she knew as she touched his face and squished it. Song didn’t flinch when her fingers brushed against his cheek. Instead, his gaze dropped slightly to meet hers, dark eyes calm, unbothered by the odd intimacy of her gesture.

Ling Yu pinched his cheek lightly, then pressed her palm against it, squishing his face from side to side like she might do to a child. The faint warmth of his skin, the softness that somehow hadn’t been burned away by the calamity, the way his jaw flexed stubbornly under her pressure, it was all exactly the same.

’Mhmm, it’s still the same baby soft face despite the calamity going around. It really is him.’

Ling Yu was relieved to see him here, looks like he really wasn’t connected to the dungeon that formed in the Eastern eastate on her past life.

It doesn’t matter what happens to that place as long as she can have him by her side, as her most trusted confidant.

Song, for his part, allowed her to prod his face without resistance, his eyes lowering slightly as if silently indulging her. He neither smiled nor frowned, but there was a subtle shift in the air around him, the kind that came from familiarity, an acceptance of her eccentricities without the need for explanation.

Nie Ziyu and Ye Qingxue, watching from the side, exchanged a look. Their eyes flickered from Ling Yu’s hand pressing into Song’s cheek to Song’s unreadable expression, and suspicion bloomed in both their gazes.

"...Are they... a couple?" Nie Ziyu whispered under his breath, eyes narrowing.

Ye Qingxue’s brows arched delicately. "It’s not that, it’s more complicated. She is alway like that with Song, look at how she touched his face so naturally, and he didn’t even resist. But chidren like you don’t need to know those things."

"Watch your mouth! I’m not a child! I’m---!" Nie Ziyu almost announced to the world that he was the prince of the Nie empire, only to stop midway as he pressed his hands over his mouth.

Ling Yu’s sharp hearing caught their hushed conversation instantly. Her smile disappeared in an instant, replaced with a cool, narrowed gaze that sent a chill down both their spines.

"Oh?" Her voice carried an edge of lazy amusement, dangerous in its softness. "So you two think you can just gossip freely about me and my Song?"

Both stiffened immediately.

"We—No! I didn’t—" Nie Ziyu began hastily.

Ye Qingxue, usually so composed, averted her gaze quickly, biting her lip. She didn’t see Ling Yu much after returning from the forest that day, training hard and diligently. But somehow she felt that Ling Yu has actually grown to become more beautiful by that small time she spent without seeing her.

Was she just imagining it?