books44 Chapter 483 [Empire] It's Night
Chapter 483 [Empire] It's Night
As night fell, the surrounding fields were dimly illuminated by lights, and a cool breeze filled the air. The stars in the night sky were bright and tranquil, as if telling a distant story. I sat on the fence at the edge of the field, my legs dangling casually, quietly gazing at the training ground before me, a sense of emptiness in my heart.
At this moment, unlike the hustle and bustle of the day and the intensity of training, the air around me became unusually quiet, even my own breathing became clearly audible. Occasionally, the sounds of conversation or training could be heard from the field, but they did not break the silence.
I'm used to sitting here alone, occasionally pondering trivial matters, and often thinking of those who fought alongside me, especially Qianmo. Our relationship has grown closer, and gradually, I seem to be lost in this feeling. Whenever I train with him, fight alongside him, I feel that I am no longer alone, as if the whole world is moving forward with me.
However, this feeling of dependence seemed to be quietly changing something. Perhaps it was because I hadn't tried to face difficulties alone for too long, or perhaps it was because with his company, I gradually ignored the loneliness in my heart.
I sighed softly and turned my gaze away. The starry sky still seemed to have no answer, only endless silence in response to my question.
Just then, I felt footsteps approaching from behind, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned around and saw Qianmo standing not far away, looking at me with a look of concern in his eyes.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone gentle, but with a hint of undisguised worry.
I curled my lips and responded casually, "I want to be quiet. I'm a little tired from training, so I came out to get some fresh air."
He walked closer, stood beside me, and glanced gently at the training ground, then back at me. "Are you okay here alone?"
I glanced at him, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Nothing, just needing a break," I said, lowering my head, not quite daring to look him in the eye.
Qianmo didn't say anything else, just stood beside me, quietly accompanying me, as if waiting for me to say something else. I felt his warmth, but this simple companionship made me feel a little heavy. The increasingly strong sense of dependence was making me feel a little unbearable, but it was also difficult to let go.
"Sometimes I wonder why I rely on you so much." I suddenly spoke in a low voice, as if I was talking to myself.
Qianmo turned his head, frowning slightly, a complex look flashing in his eyes. "You are not dependent on me, you are just used to having someone's company." He said lightly.
I didn't continue the topic, but just lowered my head and let the breeze blow my hair. The chaotic emotions in my heart seemed to calm down a little.
Qianmo's presence became a part of my life, gradually occupying much of my thoughts. In training, in daily life, and even in our occasional free time, we had grown increasingly close. This closeness, while bringing warmth, also left me feeling vaguely perplexed.
"Sometimes, I really feel overwhelmed." I whispered, my voice almost swallowed by the night wind.
Qianmo stood beside me, looking at the night sky, as if thinking about what I said. He didn't rush to respond, but stayed with me quietly.
As the night deepened, the starry sky grew brighter. We sat there, our silence spreading through the still night, like a silent conversation, or a communication from the depths of our souls.
"Actually, I also..." The night wind blew away the words from his mouth, and I didn't hear them clearly.
The night wind gently blew past, ruffling the tips of Qianmo's hair and carrying away his unfinished words. I tilted my head slightly, trying to catch the unfinished words, but in the quiet of the night, the wind seemed louder than his voice.
I didn't ask any more questions, just sat quietly, feeling the alternating chill and warmth around me. This moment seemed a little subtle, as if nothing had happened. Qianmo still stood beside me, his hands in his pockets, his expression hard to read.
Perhaps he was just saying something insignificant, or perhaps he was trying to tell me something deeper. But no matter what, I remained silent, as if I didn't want to disturb this rare tranquility.
I didn't say anything else, nor did I urge him to continue. I simply closed my eyes and savored this moment of peace. This night seemed completely different from the day's training and noise. It felt like a moment that belonged to us, to the subtle and complex connection between him and me.
"Are you okay?" Qianmo's voice sounded again, this time he seemed to be confirming my condition.
I nodded: "I'm fine, just a little tired."
He didn't ask any more questions. I felt his gaze on me, but I didn't say anything. We sat like this for a long time, until the lights in the distance gradually became dim, and only a few stars were left in the night sky, twinkling quietly.
I kind of like this kind of quietness. Perhaps it's because it allows people to stop thinking too much and focus on the present moment.
We sat there, the night breeze blowing gently, a touch chilly but not bone-chilling. The air was fresh, a blend of earth and grass. The surroundings gradually blurred, leaving only the distant lights and the silence between us.
Qianmo stood beside me, his figure reflected in the dim light. Occasionally, a few stars glided across the sky, dotting the deep sky and adding a touch of tranquility to the moment. I could hear his occasional breathing, but he didn't rush to speak. We both seemed to enjoy this moment of peace.
I didn't dare disturb this feeling, fearing that speaking would shatter all the beauty. Although my body had adapted to the long hours of training, a subtle unease lingered within me. Qianmo's presence was both a comfort and a source of worry. He never forced anything, but I understood that much was quietly happening within our unspoken understanding.
Everything around me seemed to flow in silence. There was a hint of moisture in the air, the coolness of the night forming a stark contrast to the scorching heat of the day. My hands unconsciously caressed the spot where I sat, the coolness of the fence seeming to offer a brief respite from my physical exhaustion. Time seemed to freeze in this moment, the space between us slowly closing, yet also slowly growing apart.
Qianmo remained silent, perhaps feeling it all too. I could sense his casual glance, gently sweeping across me, but he said nothing. In silence, we both understood that each other's presence was the most important thing at this moment.
"Is this wind cold?" I suddenly asked, breaking the almost eternal silence.
"Not bad." His answer was brief, but with a hint of warmth, as if to say that it was no longer so cold at this moment.
I nodded, then turned away again. Watching the field gradually disappear into the night, I felt an inexplicable feeling in my heart, like an unsolvable knot, or a deeply buried secret.
We just sat there, not in a hurry to leave, not in a hurry to talk, not in a hurry for anything. We just sat quietly, waiting for the tranquility of the night to slowly cover everything.
We packed up our meals and soup just as the cafeteria closed. There weren't many people outside, and the hallway seemed a bit empty. A few dim lights cast a shadow, and the air was filled with the aroma of food. The staff were turning off the last few lights and preparing to clean up, but in those final seconds, we quickly walked to the window, pointed at our favorite dishes, and made our choices.
Qianmo was already accustomed to this routine. He walked ahead, whispering a greeting to the woman at the window, while I stared around, slightly distracted. The cafeteria still lingered with the warmth of yesterday. Although I could hear the occasional footsteps and conversations of other students, the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria had gradually faded. We all knew that this was the last moment, and the cafeteria would soon close.
"Which one do you want this time?" Qianmo looked back at me with a gentle look.
I casually pointed to the steaming plate of braised pork on the table. It was what I always came for, the perfect texture and rich flavor, a stark contrast to the coldness of this planet. Qianmo ordered some choy sum and tofu. He always chose lighter dishes and never seemed to be picky about the combination.
After packing our meals, we each grabbed a bowl of hot soup and a small dish of porridge. The porridge was a common sight in the cafeteria. Whenever mealtime arrived, it was thick and warm, with a hint of sugar, a perfect comfort after a tiring training session. The soup was also delicious, light yet nutritious, and every sip seemed to warm our hearts.
"Hurry up, the shop will really close if we don't leave." I urged him with a smile.
He smiled back at me: "I see, wait for me."
Qianmo hurriedly arranged the lunch boxes on the tray and quickly walked towards the exit. I followed him. We both walked quickly, and our footsteps echoed in the quiet cafeteria, reverberating with a familiar rhythm. Standing at the door, we both stopped and opened the cafeteria door. The cold air immediately rushed in, and the icy feeling made us both stunned.
"We still have to be careful. The food in the cafeteria is limited. Let's go back to the dormitory and eat." As I said this, I held the hot food in my hands tightly in my arms, fearing that it would get cold in the cold air.
Qianmo nodded, his gentle eyes devoid of any unnecessary emotion. He gently supported my back, maintaining a slight distance, yet seemed to silently convey a sense of care and consideration. As we walked back to the dormitory, the cafeteria behind us gradually disappeared into the darkness. Only the hot meals on our shoulders, like small flames, illuminated the road ahead.
When I arrived at the dormitory door, I found that the food in my hands was still slightly warm. This heat penetrated the cold and warmed every inch of my body and heart.
"Eat quickly, you can rest after you eat." Qianmo walked to my side, picked up the food he packed, his eyes still gentle and firm.
I smiled, nodded, went into the dormitory with him, and began to enjoy this ordinary yet warm dinner.
Lying in bed, a faint moonlight filtered through the slits in the curtains, gently casting a shadow on a corner of the room. The bright moon, like a pinprick of light filtered through the curtains, was soft and not glaring, offering a touch of warmth and comfort in the darkness. The air still held a chill, and even though the heating in the room made the space cozy, a hint of loneliness inevitably lingered within me.
Moonlight always sparks a flow of thoughts, and tonight is no exception. Everything before me is quiet yet too peaceful, a thin layer of tranquility enveloping me, making me feel somewhat disoriented. The time I spent with Qianmo gradually becomes clearer in my memory, and every little detail is hard to ignore. Every subtle gesture, every casual expression of concern, is like a point of light that flickers in the darkness, yet I am always unsure if I have become accustomed to it.
I turned, leaning my back against the headboard, my fingers lightly tracing the sheets as my thoughts gradually settled. Is it true that everyone, in unfamiliar surroundings, develops a reliance on warmth and care? Perhaps it's not just physical fatigue, but also spiritual fatigue. But if this dependence becomes too deep, will it lead to the loss of certain boundaries?
My eyes gradually adjusted to the night, and I began to vaguely see the skyline outside the window. The stars still hung far away in the sky, twinkling with a mysterious light. The distant stars seemed to tell stories that could never be reached, yet also seemed to remind me when to let go and when to move on.
In this quiet night, time seems to become less important.
However, in a trance, I seemed to meet a pair of eyes that were as thoughtful as mine.
At that moment, my heart skipped a beat, and I almost felt like I was being spied on in the night. The curtains swayed gently, and through the thin gaps, moonlight shone onto my bed. It was as if everything had stopped at that moment.
He sat there, his back against the window, his gaze fixed on the distance. He happened to meet my gaze. Those eyes, silent yet telling, spoke volumes. His expression was as calm as ever, a hint of depth in them, as if he understood this darkness more deeply than I did. Our gazes met, for a brief moment, yet it seemed to transcend the barriers of time.
I looked at him, my heart tightening slightly. For some reason, an inexplicable tension spread. In that moment of silence, I could almost hear each other's heartbeats. In the empty room, the air seemed to be stagnant.
He didn't say anything, just staring at me quietly, as if he were also thinking about something. I couldn't help but lower my head and sigh softly. The silence was so heavy it felt suffocating. Perhaps it was because there was always something between us that remained unspoken, and this unspoken emotion was what made the air so oppressive.
He remained so quiet before me, as if unaware of the turmoil in my heart. Perhaps his thoughts, like mine, drifted in the endless night sky, unable to settle.
Finally, I looked away again, quietly returning to the moonlit room. I knew tomorrow would be the same day again, but at this moment, all my words seemed swallowed up by that fleeting look.