"Am I... more important?" Could he be more important?
"Yes."
The young man was silent for a moment, suddenly hugged Chuzheng tightly, his breath hot against Chuzheng's skin.
Chuzheng took a deep breath inwardly, holding the young man, gazing at the stars on the horizon.
Unknowingly, Jing Po fell asleep; Chuzheng carried him back into the coffin, and just as she placed him inside, the young man woke up with a start.
His eyes, wet as if he had a nightmare, still carried traces of panic.
Chuzheng touched his forehead, "Did you have a nightmare?"
The young man grasped her wrist, holding her with both arms, "You... come inside."
Chuzheng raised her eyebrow slightly, "Hmm?"
The young man gritted his teeth, "You... come inside to sleep."
"Are you inviting me?"
The young man hesitated for a long time but finally nodded, "...Yes."
Chuzheng rubbed his head, "It's too cramped, you sleep by yourself, be good."
Urgency colored the young man's brows, "I... I don't want to be alone."
