19: A Moment Suspended in Time

I bit my teacher, and he...

———

Shen Qingqiu's hand trembled as it hovered in the air between them.

Luo Binghe's gaze never wavered.

His grip on Shen Qingqiu's wrist was firm but not forceful—a silent plea rather than a demand.

The wind stirred between them, cool against Shen Qingqiu's flushed skin.

He should push Binghe away.

He should tell him to stop, to back off, to stop looking at him like that.

But he didn't.

Instead,

his fingers brushed against Binghe's cheek.

Luo Binghe froze.

Shen Qingqiu barely touched him,

barely traced the sharp line of his jaw with the lightest, most uncertain caress—

and yet,

Binghe reacted as if he had been struck.

His eyes widened, breath catching.

Then, as if the single touch had shattered some delicate restraint within him, he exhaled, his lashes lowering, his expression darkening into something desperate.

"Shizun…" His voice came out uneven, like he was barely holding himself together.

Shen Qingqiu felt a dangerous tightness in his chest.

This was wrong. This was dangerous.

And yet—

"You," Shen Qingqiu murmured, trying to regain some semblance of control, "are so troublesome."

Luo Binghe shuddered.

Then—he leaned in.

Slow, careful, hesitant, as if waiting for Shen Qingqiu to stop him.

Shen Qingqiu knew he should.

This was a boundary he had spent years reinforcing.

A line he had refused to cross, no matter how many times Binghe tried to breach it.

And yet—

And yet—

A single breath away from complete disaster, Shen Qingqiu suddenly dropped his hand and shoved Binghe's face away.

"Enough," he said, voice sharper than before.

Luo Binghe stumbled back a step, shocked.

His expression twisted into something pained.

"Shizun—"

"I said enough," Shen Qingqiu snapped, turning away before Binghe could see the conflict in his own face.

He took a deep breath, forcing his pulse to steady. "This is not happening, Binghe.

Whatever you think this is—it stops now."

Luo Binghe's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "You're lying."

Shen Qingqiu squeezed his eyes shut.

Yes. He was lying.

But if he admitted that, there would be no turning back.

"You don't know what you're talking about,"

Shen Qingqiu said instead, walking away. "Get some rest. You're acting ridiculous."

Behind him, Luo Binghe didn't move.

Didn't chase after him.

Didn't say another word.

And yet, even as Shen Qingqiu put distance between them, he could feel it.

The weight of Binghe's stare.

The quiet, unshakable determination lurking beneath his silence.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

—

Shen Qingqiu had almost made it far enough.

Almost put enough space between himself and Luo Binghe's suffocating intensity.

Almost convinced himself that this conversation was over, that Binghe would listen, that he had won.

But Luo Binghe was not someone who let things go so easily.

Before Shen Qingqiu could take another step, a shadow moved behind him.

Too fast.

Too quiet.

Then—sharp teeth sank into his neck.

Shen Qingqiu gasped.

His entire body locked up as a searing heat shot straight down his spine.

That bastard bit him.

Not just a playful nibble. Not a warning.

It was a full, undeniable, undiluted claim.

Shen Qingqiu shuddered violently, his knees nearly buckling.

His hands shot up, gripping onto Binghe's shoulders in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

Luo Binghe—

the absolute menace—

didn't let go immediately.

He bit down harder.

A pleased, almost satisfied growl vibrated against Shen Qingqiu's skin as Binghe sucked gently on the mark before finally—finally—releasing him.

Shen Qingqiu's breath came out ragged.

His entire body was trembling,

horrifyingly weak from just that single action.

Luo Binghe, the audacious brat, had the nerve to lick the mark—slow, deliberate, savoring.

"Y-You—!" Shen Qingqiu tried to jerk away, but Binghe's arms were already locked around his waist.

There was no escape.

Luo Binghe's voice was low, wrecked, and utterly possessive.

"You always run, Shizun," he whispered against his skin. "But I always catch you."

Shen Qingqiu's mind short-circuited.

He needed to get out of here.

Needed to breathe, think, figure out how to handle this disaster.

But Luo Binghe wasn't letting go.

Instead, his grip tightened.

"You push me away," Binghe continued, nuzzling against the fresh bite, "but you never stop me in time."

Shen Qingqiu's heart slammed against his ribs.

That wasn't true.

…Was it?

Luo Binghe suddenly chuckled, soft and dangerously amused.

"Shizun," he purred, breath warm against his ear. "Should I bite you somewhere else next?"

Shen Qingqiu made a mistake.

He whimpered.

And Luo Binghe heard it.

Luo Binghe's entire body shuddered.

Then—he sank his teeth in again.