【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 486 [Empire] Thrills

I gradually adapted to the candies Qianmo would sneak into my mouth every day. They became a part of my training routine, a sweet treat. Whenever I felt tired, I'd take out a piece of candy, the sweetness spreading through my mouth, instantly giving me a boost of motivation. The taste of the candy was like the care he occasionally showed me, gentle and reassuring.

However, as time went on, I occasionally missed other flavors. So, I started making my own snacks. The process isn't complicated; it just involves drying the ingredients and sealing them. These snacks are not only simple, but also easy to grab and go, and even serve as a little treat for myself.

Some of the dried ingredients are fruits, and some are nuts. The dried fruits have a rich flavor, leaving a sweet and sour taste in your mouth. The nuts have a slightly salty flavor and a nice chewy texture, providing a completely different kind of satisfaction than candy. I package them into small, tightly sealed bags for easy storage and to keep the ingredients fresh.

These little snack boxes gradually became a regular in my dorm. I'd occasionally take them out during breaks from training, eating while resting, and even started sharing them with Qianmo. Although he wasn't particularly interested in these "handicrafts," he'd always try one or two, and I loved seeing the subtle tenderness in his eyes when he occasionally looked up at me.

These simple treats are like the subtle comforts of my life. They don't need to be complex, just simple satisfaction, enough to give me a small sense of belonging amidst the challenges and training. And when I make snacks, I always imagine Qianmo's expression as he eats them—would he like them? Would he find them more enjoyable than candy? These seemingly insignificant little things have gradually taken on a larger and larger place in my heart.

Gradually, the tacit understanding between Qianmo and me became more and more natural, like a habit, woven into our daily lives. This habit, no longer as unfamiliar and forced as it had been at the beginning, became indispensable. Whenever he accidentally slipped me candy, I knew it was a sign of his concern; and when I occasionally offered him a snack I'd made, his smile was my perfect response.

After training each day, I'd find a few bags of homemade dried fruit or roasted nuts on my nightstand. At first, I'd pick and choose, preparing some for myself, but before I knew it, I'd be handing him the same bags. Even though he said he didn't like anything too sweet, he'd always take them and unwrap them. Occasionally, he'd look up at me, his eyes complex, yet always tinged with a subtle smile.

Our lives seemed to be in a cycle of feeding each other: he gave me candy, I gave him snacks in return; I told him I was hungry, and he would always give me hot soup or porridge from the cafeteria as soon as possible after training.

Sometimes, in the quiet hours after training at night, I'd see him unpacking the snacks I'd made in his bed and slowly savoring them. I'd lean against the headboard, gazing at the night sky through the curtains, his occasional, casual whispers filling my ears. Without much talk, this tacit understanding had already found its place in our daily lives.

This kind of nurturing isn't just about material things. It's hidden in the bags of snacks, in the candies he hands me every time, and in the casual glances he gives me every time he looks at me. Between us, there's no need to deliberately express anything; it seems like these small gestures have silently conveyed everything.

Whenever I feel tired, as long as I see him handing me candies or snacks, I know that there is someone silently caring for me and protecting me behind my back.

I suddenly felt that perhaps days like this were truly wonderful. Living on this strange planet, everything around me was filled with uncertainty. The intensity of the military academy's training, the strict rules and regulations, and the unfamiliar faces all seemed to remind me that there would never be a trace of tenderness here. Yet, in this indifferent environment, we unexpectedly developed a tacit understanding and care, a feeling that had unknowingly become my only source of support.

Every time I'd wake at dawn to a cup of hot soup and porridge, watching him place the steaming porridge beside my bed with his usual gentleness, the whole world seemed to soften. We didn't have any special words or gestures known to outsiders, not even any special moments that marked our relationship. It was just that he'd quietly bring me candy when I was tired, or I'd occasionally give him a small snack I made. These simple, ordinary actions, unexpectedly, became the deepest bond between us.

Our relationship never needed much explanation; all our care and concern were hidden in these tiny moments. This relationship might be inconspicuous, almost unknown. No one questioned why we always trained together, or why he suddenly appeared when I was most tired. They simply saw our tacit cooperation, the silent communication on the training field. Perhaps they never even realized the subtle emotions between us, the bond that remained unspoken.

And in this unspoken relationship, I felt somewhat fortunate. It was as if, beneath this cold, silent starry sky, we needed no words, no external validation, to find peace and warmth in each other's company. The oppression pent up in training and missions quietly dissipated with every bag of candy and every warm meal.

Sometimes, I even suddenly feel that this secret relationship is like the silent scenery under the starry sky. It is unassuming, yet deeply rooted in my heart, like a warm light, illuminating every step I take on this unknown planet. And this subtle happiness is precisely the part I least expected, yet most cherished.

That day, after training, I made my usual walk to the dorms. Walking through the empty corridors of the military academy, the wind tinged with a hint of chill. My pace was neither hurried nor slow, my thoughts drifting back to the mundane details of daily life: missions, training, candy, and meals... Everything seemed perfectly normal and routine. I lowered my head, about to reach for the candy in my pocket, when, turning a corner, I was drawn to a scene.

I subconsciously stopped in my tracks. The sight before me froze me in an instant.

Two men stood in a corner of the hallway, their intimacy evident even in the darkness of the night. Their embrace felt so natural, transitioning to a gentle kiss. Their movements were soft and warm, as if they were completely oblivious to the world around them. Perhaps they hadn't considered the thought of anyone passing by at this hour, or perhaps they simply didn't care about secrecy—their relationship was as natural as it was obvious.

At that moment, time seemed to pause. My heart was pounding, my mind blank. I instinctively lowered my head, trying to avoid this sudden scene. But the more I tried to look away, the more I couldn't help but feel that subtle atmosphere.

Then, a complex wave of emotions suddenly surged within me—I realized something, yet I dared not confront it. Previously, I hadn't truly considered our relationship. Qianmo's concern, companionship, and small acts of thoughtfulness...those delicate gestures, I'd simply dismissed as ordinary friendship. However, the scene before me suddenly awakened me.

I remember having some doubts about the distance between him and me, about that subtle intimacy, about his inadvertent over-care—I thought, these were more than just ordinary care. Just like those two boys, they fearlessly showed their true feelings, and I seemed to be in a similar situation to some extent.

I turned around and looked at the two boys. They hadn't noticed me, still lost in their own world. I stood there, feeling lost. It wasn't until I took a deep breath that I reluctantly turned around and headed back to the dorm.

Back in my room, the night outside was still deep and eerily quiet. I sat on the edge of my bed, my mind racing, trying to sort out the thoughts that were assaulting me. But the more I tried to understand, the more confused I became—what did all these emotions mean? Were those subtle moments between Qianmo and me truly just a simple friendship? I wasn't sure.

I stared at him beside the bed, my heartbeat accelerating and my body stiffening slightly. The strange feeling grew stronger, as if something was quietly moving through the air, yet I couldn't quite grasp it. I instinctively turned my gaze away, afraid to hold his gaze for too long, afraid it would betray my inner unease.

He continued to sit there quietly, seemingly oblivious to my reaction. The light from the night lamp shone on him, illuminating the outline of his face, a gentle and indifferent expression. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak, but he didn't push me. He remained silent, as if giving me space.

Yet, my mind was a tangle, a tangle of doubts, emotions, and questions flooding in like a sudden flood. Even in this quiet moment, I felt an inexplicable tension, a sense of guilt, as if I'd been discovered.

At that moment, I could almost feel the heat on my face and my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was like I was doing something sneaky. Even though I hadn't done anything, my mind was still constantly warning me not to do anything wrong.

I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down, and rationally told myself that this was just an overly complicated tangle of thoughts. Perhaps all this was just me being too sensitive and over-interpreting his concern for me.

However, I still didn't dare look up at him, afraid my eyes would betray some of my innermost feelings. I was so nervous I felt overwhelmed, my fingers clutching the bed sheets tightly, trying to calm myself, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being spied on, like something deep inside me had been seen, yet I couldn't admit it.

Did I really do something wrong, or did I just have some thoughts that I shouldn't have?

His movements were so gentle they were almost imperceptible, but I could still sense a subtle shift. He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside the window, as if intentionally avoiding my gaze. At that moment, a slight change crossed his face, like a slight struggle, or some unfathomable emotion. His eyes flickered, clearly not wanting me to see his expression.

The air grew even quieter, the only sounds in the room remaining were the gentle rustling of the window by the night wind, and the almost tangible distance between him and me. Although he didn't make many movements, that slight tilt of his head seemed to have invisibly opened up an invisible gap between us.

I noticed his shoulders tense slightly for a few seconds, as if he was suppressing some emotion, or trying to suppress a thought deep in his heart. I didn't dare look at him any longer, the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat almost becoming more and more intense in my ears.

He didn't turn around, nor did he try to talk to me again. He was just silent, as if he was waiting for me to break the silence, or perhaps he was thinking about some secret he hadn't told me yet.

I suddenly realized that perhaps he had sensed my unnatural reaction. That subtle sense of distance made me feel as if he, too, was waiting, or even avoiding something. Perhaps I was overly sensitive, but regardless, the silence of that moment felt like an invisible pressure, almost suffocating me.

In this moment of silence, I even began to wonder if I had begun to perceive something he was unwilling to express. Then, I forced myself to tell myself - no, it might just be an illusion, maybe I was too uneasy.

He still didn't look back, and I didn't break the silence. My heart was full of contradictions and entanglements, and I didn't even dare to look up at him again.

Suddenly, a soft laugh echoed through the still air, like a sudden breeze, instantly breaking the silent balance between us. It wasn't loud, but it was remarkably clear in the stillness, penetrating my eardrums almost unobstructed. The laughter had a subtle, yet gentle, tone, almost teasing, as if it were an unconscious release of emotion.

I was startled. That laughter held a familiar tinge of emotion, and my heart skipped a beat. Then, I saw him turn his head slightly toward me, his eyes meeting mine. In that instant, time seemed to freeze. Everything around us seemed distant, only his gaze was clear.

His eyes remained gentle, seemingly normal, yet beneath that calmness lay a deeper meaning I couldn't fathom. The trace of his chuckle lingered in the air, and I inadvertently sensed a tension and uneasiness I'd never felt before.

When I looked up, I felt a strange power. I didn't know if it was some subtle change in my heart, or a fleeting look in his eyes. He looked at me, his eyes warm but with a hint of profound meaning, as if everything was quietly conveyed in this brief glance.

This feeling was both too unfamiliar and too real. My heartbeat seemed to accelerate, and a long-lost tension spread through my chest. I instinctively wanted to avoid this sudden contact, but I couldn't look away. It was as if, in that moment, all the secrets between him and me were conveyed to each other through this brief glance.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me quietly, with a warm smile on his face, and that smile gently touched my heart. It was like a silent invitation, a tacit resonance, which made my heart involuntarily drawn closer.

At that moment, I could hardly tell what we had missed, or whether we had never missed anything.