Yang Lingyun's breath caught in surprise, but the next second his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, as if afraid she would vanish if he let go.
The kiss deepened, her desperation bleeding into it. It was no longer about restraint or hesitation—it was a confession without words, an unspoken admission that she had tried to deny for far too long.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, knuckles white, holding onto him like a lifeline. Her heart raced uncontrollably, every beat screaming the truth she hadn't wanted to face.
That she loved him.
That she had always loved him.
And now that he was here, alive, warm in her arms—it was impossible to avoid it any longer.
When she finally pulled back for breath, her lips were flushed, her chest heaving. Her phoenix eyes, usually so cold, burned with an emotion Yang Lingyun had never seen so openly in her before.
She didn't say anything, but her kiss had already spoken louder than words.
