【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 435 [Empire] Conflict

I said I was going back to find Nightingale, but in reality, I was truly overwhelmed. Lin Hao carried his sister on his back as he walked ahead. The little girl chattered excitedly along the way, pointing at the various toys and snack stalls along the street, her face brimming with joy. I walked absentmindedly, my mind constantly racing over what was about to happen. Would Nightingale be so stern again? Would he tease me nonchalantly like last time, asking why I hadn't come back sooner?

The more I thought about it, the more my headache grew. Every step seemed heavier than usual. Although I'd spent so much time with Nightingale that I'd grown accustomed to his aloofness and occasional sharp words, every time we interacted, he'd inadvertently stir up some of my innermost emotions, leaving me feeling uneasy. Especially at these moments, his unspoken concern and the occasional hint of sarcasm often left me even more bewildered.

I suddenly stopped and took a deep breath. On the way back, perhaps I wasn't prepared to face Nightingale's gaze.

Lin Hao turned around and glanced at me: "What's wrong? Why are you walking so slowly?"

I forced myself to remain calm and raised my chin: "It's okay, I'm just a little tired. Let's go."

"Yeah." Lin Hao didn't ask any more questions, turned around and continued walking, seemingly not noticing the subtle changes on my face.

The journey ahead seemed even longer than I'd imagined. The streets were lined with flashing neon lights and bustling shops, yet before me was a blank space. What tone would Nightingale use to speak to me? Would he ask where I'd been? Or would he simply pick me up and take me back, completely devoid of any unnecessary emotion?

Before I knew it, Lin Hao had brought me back to Nightingale's residence. There wasn't much of a greeting between them, and I simply walked into the house quietly and sat on the sofa. Nightingale hadn't appeared yet, but the air seemed filled with some invisible pressure.

"Where have you two been fooling around again?" Nightingale's voice came from a distance, with a familiar hint of contempt and impatience. He walked into the living room, still wearing his loose pajamas, as if he had just gotten up, his eyes a little dazed.

I sighed and forced a smile, "I didn't go anywhere. I just wandered around and played with the little girl for a bit."

Nightingale raised her eyebrows, a hint of meaning flashing in her eyes: "Play with her? How come you've become so patient?"

I was stunned, my heart suddenly tensing. I hadn't expected Nightingale to joke at this moment, even with a hint of provocation. I had intended to pretend I hadn't heard, but for some reason, that joking remark made my heart skip a beat, as if I had seen through something.

"Yeah, I don't know what happened." I lowered my head and tried to suppress my emotions. "Maybe I just thought the little girl was cute."

Nightingale didn't say anything else, just nodded slightly, then turned and went to the kitchen. Somehow, his back always carried a subtle hint of fatigue, as if he was always quietly hiding something.

"Don't you want to take a rest?" Lin Hao asked me.

I shook my head, looking at the furnishings in the room with somewhat empty eyes: "I don't want to for now."

Nightingale came out of the kitchen at this time, holding a cup of tea in her hand: "Drink some tea and relax."

I took the tea and forced a smile: "Thank you."

The house suddenly seemed a little quiet.

Nightingale plopped down beside me, the sofa slumping slightly and causing a gentle sway. His movements were as casual as ever, without any extra thought, as if this place was born to him. I, clutching the cup of hot tea I'd just accepted, was momentarily at a loss.

He didn't speak immediately, simply picking up a book from the coffee table and flipping through it, as if I were nothing, or perhaps just looking for casual company on such an ordinary night. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He seemed unusually relaxed, even lazy, sitting there. One hand rested on the back of the sofa, the other casually flipping through a book, the thin pages making a slight rustling sound between his fingertips.

I couldn't help but secretly glance at him. His expression was as calm as ever, his eyes so flat that no emotion could be seen. But I knew that the calmer Nightingale was, the more likely he was thinking about something.

"How was your day?" He suddenly spoke, his tone calm, yet with a presence that could not be ignored.

I was stunned for a moment, then nodded: "Fortunately, the little girl is very happy and doesn't want to stop playing."

"Hmm," he said softly, his eyes still fixed on the page, as if he didn't care much about my answer. But there was a hint of a smile in his voice, as if he was teasing me, but also as if he approved of my choice to some extent.

"But..." I hesitated, looking down at the tea in my hand, and lowered my voice. "Lin Hao is still quite nervous. He can't find anyone for a while, and he must be going crazy with anxiety."

Nightingale chuckled softly, a hint of subtle mockery in her voice. "That guy has no patience to begin with. If you mess with him like this, he'll definitely go crazy. But that's fine too. At least he'll learn how to deal with unexpected situations."

I looked up at him, a little speechless: "You really are... you always have a way of turning everything into a kind of 'training'."

Nightingale then turned his gaze away from the book, looked sideways at me, and raised the corner of his mouth slightly: "Isn't it? Do you think these are just pure fun? Even if it's just shopping, you can see some tricks." As he spoke, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as if he didn't agree with what I said.

"Well, you're awesome," I sighed, taking a sip of my tea and trying to hide my emotions.

Nightingale lowered his head again, opened the book in his hand, and said nothing more. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became quiet, with only the sound of teacups gently hitting the table and the rustling of pages turning. But even so, his presence was still strong and I couldn't ignore it.

I leaned back on the sofa, tilting my head slightly, my peripheral vision falling on him again. Nightingale, always that seemingly casual person, yet always able to see through everything. He was always like this, like a mirror, allowing me to unconsciously see myself clearly. And at this moment, I was a little unsure how to respond to his silence.

The warmth from Nightingale made me feel a little uncomfortable. Although we weren't pressed tightly together, his presence and presence enveloped me like an invisible warmth, making me feel a little concerned. The sofa wasn't narrow, but he sat so close to me that I could feel his faint scent and even hear his gentle breathing.

I subconsciously shifted my body, trying to create some distance, but I didn't want the movement to seem too deliberate. So, I simply adjusted my sitting position slightly, trying to focus on the teacup in my hand instead of the unignorable presence beside me.

He seemed to notice my slight movement and glanced at me sideways, a faint smile on his face. "What are you hiding from?" His tone was teasing, as if he was deliberately trying to expose my inner uneasiness.

I paused, taking a sip of tea, trying to mask my emotion. "Nothing," I murmured, trying to sound natural. "Just a little warm."

"Hot?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice a little playful. "It's winter, and you're actually feeling hot?"

I didn't dare look at him, only staring at the tea leaves floating in the teacup, trying to calm myself down. But his presence was too strong, and even if I was just sitting against the back of the sofa, I could feel an invisible sense of oppression.

"Maybe the tea is too hot." I made an excuse and tried to change the subject, wanting to end this embarrassing conversation.

He chuckled softly, his deep voice as leisurely as if he was teasing his prey: "You are really interesting."

I couldn't help but glare at him, but I didn't say anything in response. I just sipped my tea silently, trying to focus my attention elsewhere. But his eyes lingered on me for a moment, with a probing look that I couldn't ignore.

Nightingale always manages to inadvertently tug at my nerves, as if reminding me that he always sees things more clearly than I do. But I don't know whether I should continue to act as if nothing happened, or simply stand up and leave, ending this somewhat unbearable experience.

The atmosphere in the room was eerily quiet. I could even hear my own heartbeat. The presence of the nightingale was like a slightly warm blade, piercing my heart and leaving me in a dilemma.

I felt a surge of irritation. It was clearly my own fault for failing to control my emotions, yet Nightingale's all-seeing gaze had completely disturbed me. I forced myself to ignore his seemingly casual joke and continued sipping my tea, but a struggle raged within me. My fingers gripped the rim of the teacup so tightly I could practically feel its gentle warmth.

At that moment, everything seemed to slow down, and the air seemed to freeze. I knew that Nightingale was not just joking. He was always keenly aware of my anxiety, and I simply could not face all the emotional fluctuations as easily as he did.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. Nightingale's relaxed demeanor always managed to stir up the insecurity and defensiveness deep within me. He was the kind of person who made it seem impossible to hide any emotion, and hadn't I, in turn, exposed too much vulnerability in front of him?

"Do you know that you are annoying?" I finally couldn't help but speak, my voice was lower than expected.

The nightingale remained silent, as if waiting for me to continue.

I put down my teacup, finally unable to bear the overwhelming pressure. "You're always like this, seeing through everything, like you're watching a performance. You always hit my weak spot, leaving me nowhere to hide." My voice gradually rose, my emotions losing control, but I couldn't help but continue, "You're really annoying, you know that?"

The nightingale still didn't respond, but just sat there quietly, looking at me, with that half-smile in her eyes.

His silence made me even more uneasy, as if all my anger had been quietly swallowed up by him, leaving me alone struggling under invisible pressure.

Finally, he spoke: "Do you think I don't know?"

I was stunned for a moment. I didn't expect Nightingale to answer like that.

He continued softly, "Do you think I can't see what you are avoiding? Do you think I really don't understand your thoughts, or your conflicting emotions?" His voice became softer, but still carried that kind of indifferent power.

I was stunned, even a little overwhelmed. "You..." I opened my mouth, my mind in a mess, unable to find the words to respond.

Nightingale seemed accustomed to this kind of situation. He reached for the bottle on the table, poured himself a glass of wine, swirled the liquid gently, and then handed the glass to me. "You are always so eager to push everything away, push away others, push away yourself. But can running away really solve the problem?"

His eyes were deep, as if he could see through me to somewhere even further away. I couldn't help but look away, not daring to meet his gaze.

"Is it honorable for you to pursue her so relentlessly?" I retorted in a hoarse voice, with a hint of anger and unwillingness in my tone.

Nightingale was startled for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. He looked at me, a playful smile playing on his lips, as if he'd expected my reaction. He took a slow sip of his wine and whispered, "Respectability? Who told you I care about respectability?"

I was stunned for a moment, and his frankness left me speechless for a moment.

He put down his glass, leaned forward slightly, and looked directly at me with a hint of seriousness in his eyes. "If I cared about respectability, I wouldn't care about you at all. Unfortunately, I don't care about those things. Compared to respectability, I care more about what you are thinking and what you are hiding from."

I felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, and I reached out to grip the rim of my teacup, trying to calm myself, but his gaze was too sharp for me to ignore. He was like a bird of prey, patient and precise, leaving me no room to escape.

"I'm not hiding." I whispered, trying to sound calm.

Nightingale chuckled softly, her laughter filled with disdain and helplessness. "Of course you didn't hide, you just happened to turn your head when you should have faced it." He leaned back on the sofa, his tone light with a hint of relief. "You can continue to tell yourself it was a coincidence, but you know I don't believe it."

"Nightingale, you're really annoying." I couldn't help but whisper, with a hint of fatigue and annoyance in my voice.

"Yes, I'm annoyed." He admitted frankly, the smile on his face becoming more and more obvious. "But if I didn't annoy you, would you think about it seriously? Would you face it properly? Don't forget, I've never been a decent person."

His tone still sounded relaxed, but it carried a power that I couldn't refute. I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to look at him, but the emotions in my heart were confused by his words.

Nightingale reached for the wine glass and took another sip, seemingly oblivious to my embarrassment. He continued, "You always assume others will back off for you, but you never ask yourself if it's time to stop and face the situation." He paused, his eyes fixed on my face, his voice lowered. "Is running away really that good?"

I didn't answer, but just lowered my head, my fingers unconsciously sliding over the edge of the teacup, feeling indescribably upset. His words touched the part of me that I was most reluctant to face, and I didn't even know how to refute him.

Nightingale didn't ask any more questions, but just leaned quietly on the sofa, as if waiting for my answer. But at this moment, I just wanted to hide myself, away from his eyes that saw through everything.