During The Blizzard (Amidst A Snowstorm Of Love)

Canto 89: Old Rivals - One Team (2)

“The battlefield may change, but the warriors remain the same. Now, we fight together.”

Translator: Wuxia Studio, Editor: J.C Forester (Mrphysit)

This chapter is dedicated to sravanthisid,
joonie1213, and IreineSong3.

- - - -

Yin Guo's hand dipped down again, only to be captured by his wrist. This time, genuine laughter filled the air. "Perhaps we should focus on cleaning up," he suggested a suggestive lilt in his voice.

‘Tidy up.’

Was their secret code, a word whispered in the heat of passion.

"I want to feel the fire," she countered, her voice laced with playful defiance.

This time, he didn't resist.

His hand drifted down, tracing the line of her waist before finding its home nestled against the small of her back. A finger brushed the inscription hidden beneath her shirt, his name a secret brand seared against her skin. A warmth, foreign yet exhilarating, bloomed in his chest.

He traced a strand of her hair, its silken caress mirroring the tendrils of desire curling in his gut. "Come back to my place," he murmured, the words husky with unspoken longing. "And live with me."

Yin Guo's breath caught. Live together? The thought sent a thrill through her, quickly doused by reason. "My parents wouldn't approve," she hedged, the playful defiance fading into a thoughtful frown. "Maybe... occasionally?" she ventured, a teasing smile flickering on her lips.

Lin Yiyang's gaze held hers, his emotions a storm brewing beneath the surface. He reached out, a gentle fingertip brushing the bridge of her nose. "Silly girl," he thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "It's not just about... that. I want you here. All the time."

Lin Yiyang threw back the covers with a sigh, the crisp sheets whispering against his skin. He stalked to a box in the corner, his movements economical, and pulled out a pair of dark trousers and soft boxers. With practiced ease, he dressed his lower body, the fabric obscuring the evidence of a restless night.

Across the room, Yin Guo barely registered his movements. Her gaze snagged on a lone guitar sprawled on the sofa, its worn wood gleaming under the lamplight. "Jiang Yang bring that?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of curiosity.

Lin Yiyang glanced at the instrument, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "Yeah," he muttered, "Apparently his latest conquest has a thing for artistic types. Picked it up recently, said it belonged to him years ago."

Yin Guo traced the outline of a melody with her finger on the armrest. "My brother used to play piano," she offered a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

"Piano was the go-to for wealthy kids in our day," Lin Yiyang replied, a touch of wistfulness creeping into his tone. "Guys like Jiang Yang? Self-taught, either they will create a band or use it to chase some girls."

He paused, his gaze flickering to Yin Guo for a fleeting moment before landing back on the guitar.

Yin Guo stole a glance at him, a question lingering in her eyes. "What about you?"

Lin Yiyang shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Not really my thing."

A beat of silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city. "Seems like billiards are all you have then," Yin Guo murmured.