Ark Simulator, don't I have no physical form?

Suri (in lamb form) could clearly "sense" that Eyjafjalla's heart was beating incredibly fast, her body temperature was rising, and the levels of certain hormones were changing drastically. She released her grip on his hand, but in the darkness, he could "feel" that she was getting closer, close enough to smell the faint, sweet scent of the drinks from the ball lingering on her, and her own clean, warm, and uniquely youthful fragrance.

In the darkness, deprived of sight, his other senses seemed to become acute. He could "hear" the subtle rustling of fabric, like a butterfly fluttering its wings uneasily in the dark. He could "feel" the warm, soft touch, trembling slightly, cautiously and tentatively approaching, and finally, like vines entwining trees, like moths drawn to candlelight, with a resolute yet clumsy determination, gently yet firmly, he clung to him.

He didn't move. He simply stood there quietly, like an ancient reef, letting the warm, trembling tide, carrying a youthful, almost reckless courage, gradually envelop him. His black eyes, in absolute darkness, remained calmly open, as if they could penetrate all obstacles and clearly "see" the girl's tightly closed eyelids, her trembling eyelashes, her cheeks flushed with an unnatural red, and her slightly parted lips, as if she were breathing softly as if she were lacking oxygen.

In the darkness, suppressed, faint sounds arose, like the whimpers of a young animal, or the delicate trembling of petals in the night breeze. The cold, rough floor seemed to be covered by some softer, warmer fabric, or perhaps the warmth of human skin. The air grew thick, carrying with it a gradually rising temperature and a strange, cloying scent.

Suri (in lamb form) still did not respond proactively. His body, his programming, his very existence seemed to be responding to this sudden "contact" that transcended daily interaction patterns and was filled with primal biological instincts and complex emotional demands with absolute silence.

He simply "perceived," analyzed, and recorded.

It records the girl's increasingly rapid heartbeat, like a runaway motor.

It records the gradually rising body temperature, almost scorching.

It records those subtle, suppressed sobs and gasps that teem with pain and pleasure.

It records the salty, damp feeling of sweat and tears mixed together in the darkness.

It records that increasingly intense, complex atmosphere, a mixture of blood and honey, too intricate to be accurately analyzed by any existing model.

Until all the intense, chaotic, painful yet intensely pleasurable tides gradually subsided, turning into subtle, weary aftershocks. In the darkness, only two intertwined, out-of-sync breaths remained: one rapid and weak, gradually calming down, the other, from beginning to end, perfectly still without a ripple.

In absolute darkness, Suri (in lamb form) blinked slowly and very slightly, as if processing a massive, high-definition data stream about "human intimacy and related physiological and psychological responses" that she had just received.

Volume 19, page 1316: Yes, what should we eat?

Then, Suri felt a warm, soft body, with an astonishing heat, as if pulled from the water, gently and heavily fall onto him, carrying a weariness and attachment after exhausting all its strength, entrusting all its weight and the last bit of its conscious awareness to him.

The night was still long. The faint light of the city outside the window shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting a pale and blurry trace of light on the cold floor.

As the first ray of pale, gray sunlight belonging to Cumberland stubbornly pierced through the perpetually dusty glass window, squeezed through the gap in the curtains, and fell on the cold, rough floor, Suri (in lamb form) slowly opened her eyes.

His dark eyes, in the dim light, were clear without a trace of the drowsiness of just waking up. It was as if he had only just recovered from a brief, energy-saving standby state.

The first thing he "sensed" was the unusually soft and warm touch against his body, and the even, slightly heavy breathing. Eyjafjalla was still fast asleep, curled up almost entirely in his arms, her arms unconsciously wrapped tightly around his waist, her cheek buried in the crook of his neck, her warm breath brushing against his skin. Her pristine white ball gown, long since removed, lay crumpled on the back of the old wooden chair beside the bed, like a white flower, blooming in the night and then quickly withering, still glistening with dew.

The first light of dawn barely illuminated a corner of the room. Suri (in lamb form) calmly swept his gaze over the smooth shoulders, neck, and back of the girl beside him, exposed to the cool air, where faint, petal-like red marks seemed to linger from the chaos of the previous night. His gaze didn't linger, as if sweeping over any objectively existing object.

He moved slightly, his movements slow and steady, as if he hadn't disturbed any of the vines clinging to him. But the arms wrapped around him tightened unconsciously, and he uttered a muffled, nasal murmur, as if unwilling to let go even in his dream.

Suri (in lamb form) paused for about 0.3 seconds, then continued his movements with slower, more precise force. He first gently pried open Eyjafjalla's arms, which were tightly wrapped around his waist, finger by finger. The sleeping girl frowned in dissatisfaction, but did not wake up. She simply scooted closer to the direction where the heat source had disappeared, curling up even tighter.

Freed from her embrace, Suri (in lamb form) silently sat up. Morning light fell on his smooth back and shoulder blades, outlining the boy's slender yet incredibly powerful silhouette. The white shirt he'd worn the night before was now crumpled beyond recognition, the top few buttons missing, and the hem undone from his waistband, casually draped around his waist.

He paid no attention to his disheveled appearance, his gaze calmly falling on the narrow single bed beneath him.

On the rough, faded old bed sheet, several dried, dark reddish-brown marks, resembling irregular flower petals, stood out starkly in the grayish-white sunlight.

Suri (in lamb form) lingered on those marks for about half a second. Then, he reached out and, with precise and methodical movements, began to make the bed. He carefully pulled the sheet off from the four corners, trying to make as little noise as possible. Next, he pulled out Eyjafjalla's old suitcase, which had already been packed away, from under the bed, opened it, and took out a clean, neatly folded set of plain-colored sheets and duvet cover with a faint scent of soap.

His movements were unhurried, as if he were performing a pre-programmed procedure. He spread it out, smoothed it out, and carefully tucked the four corners under the thin mattress. Every movement was precise and accurate, without a single unnecessary wrinkle. Soon, the narrow single bed was neatly made, as if the chaotic, painful, and burning entanglement of the previous night had never happened.

He casually rolled up the old bed sheet, which had been changed and bore dark red stains, and placed it temporarily in the corner of the room.

After doing all this, Suri (in his sheep form) looked down at his wrinkled shirt. He didn't change it; he simply straightened the hem, casually tucked it into his equally wrinkled dark suit trousers, and then buttoned up the few remaining buttons. His tender little sheep horns gleamed cleanly in the morning light, creating a peculiar contrast with his slightly disheveled clothes.

He turned around, his gaze falling once more on Eyjafjalla, still fast asleep on the bed. The girl lay curled up on her side, her long silver hair scattered across the new, plain pillowcase, her cheeks still flushed, her long eyelashes casting soft shadows beneath her eyelids. She was fast asleep, though her brow was slightly furrowed, suggesting she wasn't sleeping very soundly, and she would occasionally sniffle softly.

Suri (in lamb form) calmly gazed at her for about three seconds, data streams flashing silently in his dark eyes, seemingly performing some kind of rapid physiological scan. Heart rate, respiratory rate, body temperature, core hormone levels, fatigue index... a series of parameters took shape in his consciousness, concluding: deep sleep, significant physiological consumption, but no acute health risks, expected natural awakening time in 2-3 hours.

Once the scan was complete, he looked away, his bare feet touching the cold floor, and silently walked out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.

The living room remained cold and empty. The only trace of his return from last night's ball was the dark gray suit jacket draped over the back of his chair.

Suri (in his sheep form) ignored the coat and walked straight into the cramped, tiny kitchen, barely a few square meters in size. The kitchen window was covered in a thick layer of grease, making the light even dimmer. But he seemed unaffected, smoothly opening the old but still functional refrigerator and taking out some ingredients—eggs, milk, oatmeal, and a few plump berries from his new home in Tremont City that he had put in the night before.

He lit the pale blue flame on the gas stove, placed a small pot on it, and poured in milk and oats. In the other pan, hot oil sizzled softly as he skillfully cracked in an egg; the egg white quickly solidified, the edges turning an enticing golden brown.

Throughout the entire process, his movements were precise, efficient, and without any unnecessary actions. It was as if he wasn't preparing breakfast for a girl who was exhausted and asleep after a night of passion, but rather carrying out a pre-set daily task related to "nutritional supplementation for the target individual."

Volume 19, Chapter 1317: Columbia University's Admission Methods

Soon, a simple breakfast was prepared. A bowl of steaming oatmeal porridge, fragrant with the aroma of grains; two perfectly fried sunny-side-up eggs, golden brown and crispy on the edges, with runny yolks; and a small dish of washed, vibrant red berries. The food was neatly arranged on the old, worn-out little dining table, and even in the dim kitchen, it exuded a strange, warm glow.

After doing all this, Suri (in sheep form) turned off the gas. He went to the sink, washed his hands with the cold water, and then carefully dried them with a clean cloth.

He walked back to the living room, sat down in the old chair, and calmly looked at the closed door to Eyjafjalla's bedroom. The morning light was gradually brightening, but the sky over Cumberland remained that oppressive, eternally greyish-white.

The apartment was silent, save for the lingering aroma of food from the kitchen, which slowly and silently permeated the cold air. Inside the closed bedroom, the girl remained lost in a deep, weary sleep, completely unaware of the silent breakfast outside the door, or the incredible presence that had prepared everything for her and was calmly awaiting her awakening.

A new day has begun. And everything old that belongs to Cumberland, along with last night's farewell ceremony marked by pain and burning indelibility, will soon be left behind forever.

The cold, dilapidated apartment in Cumberland, along with that night of intense pleasure, subtle pain, and silent dawn, was quickly left behind, like a faded old photograph, by the wheels and Suri's incredible "short-range space travel." When Eyjafjalla recovered from the familiar dizziness, they were already standing on the streets of Tremont. The sun was shining, the breeze was gentle, and the air was filled with the unique atmosphere of a university town—a blend of coffee, books, and youthful energy.

Eyjafjalla was dressed in comfortable casual clothes prepared by Suri for the early spring weather in Trimont. The blush on her face had faded, leaving only a slight weariness from lack of sleep, but her pink eyes sparkled with an unprecedented bright light, a mixture of shyness, attachment, and anticipation for a new life. Instinctively, she gripped Suri's hand tighter beside her—it seemed to be her most natural and effortless action.

Suri (in his lamb form) remained calm, his black eyes scanning the familiar street scene to confirm the coordinates were correct. He then led Eyjafjalla towards the imposing, modern, and academically sophisticated main administration building of Columbia University of Geosciences. In his hand was a seemingly ordinary manila envelope containing a weighty and meticulously worded letter of recommendation from Ms. Seria Christensen, as well as Eyjafjalla's transcript from Cumberland County Community High School (which Suri had "optimized" to highlight Eyjafjalla's potential and interest in Originium Arts theory and geology-related subjects while adhering to basic facts).

Walking along the tree-lined campus avenues, past the energetic young students hurrying by, some carrying books, others holding coffee, Eyjafjalla's heart raced. This was university, the institution of her dreams, a temple of knowledge. And now, she was about to become a member of it.

The corridors of the administration building were spacious and bright, the soft light from the ceiling reflecting off the gleaming marble floors. Suri (in his sheep form) headed straight for the New Student Admissions and Student Records Office, his steps steady and his expression indifferent. His silver hair and sheep horns seemed somewhat out of place in the rigorous academic atmosphere, yet strangely striking. Perhaps it was his overly calm, almost inhuman demeanor, or perhaps it was Eyjafjalla, who followed closely behind with wary eyes (like a protective predator), that caused the staff and students who might have initially cast curious glances to instinctively avert their gazes.

Upon knocking on the office door, they were greeted by a middle-aged female employee wearing wire-rimmed glasses and with a serious expression. After understanding their purpose (Suri briefly explained that it was to process the admission qualification review and pre-registration of student Ayyafara Izam), she formally accepted the document bag handed to her by Suri.

When she pulled out the letter of recommendation bearing the distinctive markings of Rhine Lab and signed "Saria Christensen," her serious expression visibly softened, a hint of surprise and caution flashing in her eyes. She adjusted her glasses and began to read it carefully. The letter was short but forcefully worded, highly praising Eyjafjalla's exceptional talent in Originium Arts theory, her keen interest in geology, and her tenacious academic spirit. It explicitly stated that Rhine Lab (specifically, the Defense Department under Saria's supervision) was willing to provide Eyjafjalla with academic support and potential practical opportunities after her enrollment, depending on the circumstances.

The weight of this letter within the Columbia National University system, especially in faculties closely related to cutting-edge technology and Originium research, is undeniable. Not to mention, the influence of Seria Christensen herself in academia and industry.

The middle-aged female employee's expression quickly shifted from a businesslike seriousness to a mixture of respect and efficiency. She swiftly checked Eyjafjalla's "optimized" report card (the grades were, of course, quite impressive, especially with Su Rui's "tutoring," some subjects even showing breakthrough "improvement"), and then asked Eyjafjalla a few simple questions about her career aspirations and basic knowledge (under Su Rui's calm gaze, Eyjafjalla answered somewhat nervously, but her thinking was clear and her foundation solid).

The whole process went smoother than I expected. There were no difficulties, no long waits, and not even any additional tests or interviews. The female employee worked on the computer for a while, printed out several forms for Eyjafjalla to sign, and then solemnly handed her an offer letter bearing the Columbia University logo and anti-counterfeiting watermark (the official offer letter would be sent out before the start of the semester).

“Congratulations, Izam.” The female staff member smiled professionally. “Your admission application has been approved. This is a preliminary offer letter; please keep it safe. Please bring this letter, your identification documents, and proof of payment for relevant fees to this office one week before the start of the semester to complete the formal registration procedures. Specific information such as the start date, course schedule, and dormitory assignment will be sent to the address you provided along with your official admission letter. Welcome to Columbia University of Geosciences.”

Volume 19, Chapter 1318: Tuition and books are so expensive.

Eyjafjalla took the paper, light yet seemingly incredibly heavy, her fingers trembling slightly. Her pink eyes were fixed on the clearly printed words: "Eyjafjalla Izam," "Columbia University of Geosciences," and "Originium Geology (Tentatively Admitted)." A tremendous, almost dizzying joy and disbelief instantly overwhelmed her. She really did it? No, Suri helped her do it! She really was admitted to Columbia University of Geosciences! She was about to become a university student, studying the knowledge she had always dreamed of!

She turned her head sharply to look at Su Rui beside her, her eyes filled with excitement and gratitude, almost to the point of tears. "Su Rui! I...I got accepted!"

Suri (in lamb form) nodded almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes calmly sweeping over the acceptance letter, as if confirming that a pre-ordered item had been successfully stored. His gaze, however, was fixed on the computer screen in front of the female employee—there, Eyjafjallajökull's name and related information had been officially entered into Columbia University's freshman database, with the status displayed as "Approved, awaiting formal registration."

"Mmm." He uttered a simple syllable, as a response to Eyjafjalla's ecstasy and a confirmation of the established fact.

After the formalities were completed, the two left the office amidst the polite farewells of the female employee. The door closed behind them, separating them from the formulaic space. Eyjafjalla still clutched the offer letter tightly, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world, her smile as radiant as the brightest sunshine in Trimont at that moment.

“Suri! Can you see it? My name! It’s on there! Columbia University of Geosciences!” She couldn’t help but cheer softly again, shaking Suri’s arm excitedly.

Suri (in lamb form) let herself be shaken, but her gaze calmly fell on an inconspicuous notice board on the wall of the corridor outside the office. There were several recent notices posted there, one of which clearly listed in bold font the "Reference Standards for Tuition and Miscellaneous Fees for Various Majors at Columbia University of Geosciences This Academic Year".

Eyjafjalla followed Suri's gaze, and the smile on her face froze and flickered like a flame blown by a cold wind the moment she saw those numbers, then quickly dimmed, leaving only a blank space.

Her breathing seemed to stop at that moment.

The notice board clearly lists:

“Originium Geology (Undergraduate), annual tuition: $85,000 Colombian dollars.”

"Estimated cost of books and teaching materials: $8,000 - $12,000 Colombian dollars per academic year."

"Laboratory and equipment usage fee: $5,000 Colombian dollars per academic year."

"Information technology and systems access fee: $2,000 Colombian dollars per academic year."

"Student activities and health insurance fee: $3,500 Colombian dollars per academic year."

Accommodation fee (standard double room): $15,000 Colombian dollars per academic year (single rooms and suites are charged separately)

Below is a smaller note: "The above fees do not include personal living expenses, the cost of purchasing professional equipment, possible field trip expenses, and additional fees for elective high-credit courses. Tuition and miscellaneous fees may be adjusted annually according to school policy without prior notice."

Eyjafjalla stared blankly at the long string of numbers, her mind a complete blank. She knew that tuition at Columbia's top universities was expensive, and she had vaguely sensed the pressure on the middle class from Ms. Gwen's story, but when such concrete and enormous numbers were presented to her so starkly, the impact was far beyond her imagination.

Eighty-five thousand... just tuition? There are also book fees, lab fees, accommodation fees... all added up, it'll exceed one hundred thousand Colombian dollars a year? And this is just an estimate, not including living expenses and other possible costs...

One hundred thousand Colombian dollars. For her, this had once been an astronomical figure, an unattainable dream. Even though Suri had given her the bank card with tens of millions in it, even though she knew she was now "very rich," the instinctive fear and dizziness of "huge expenses" rooted in her years of poverty still gripped her when the money appeared—a sum measured in "years" and something that had to be paid.

Her fingers, gripping the acceptance letter tightly, turned slightly white from the pressure. Her pink eyes were wide open, filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of lingering fear. If it weren't for Su Rui… she wouldn't even have the right to stand here and see this tuition list. No, even if she were, facing these numbers, she could only despair.

Just as Eyjafjalla was somewhat stunned by the shock of this expensive reality, Suri's calm voice rang in her ears, like a stone thrown into a still lake, breaking the blank in her mind.

“It’s not just the tuition that’s expensive.” Su Rui (in sheep form) kept her gaze on the list, her tone calm and even, as if stating a simple fact. “See the cost of the books? Eight to twelve thousand is just an estimate. In reality, it may be even higher.”

Eyjafjalla glanced at the "Books and Teaching Materials Fees" section and nodded blankly.

“Columbia universities, especially in STEM fields and Originium-related majors,” Suri (in his sheep form) continued in his flat tone, as if explaining an interesting but irrelevant business rule, “have a deeply integrated textbook system and teaching system. The core textbooks written by professors are usually monopolized by the university press or partner commercial publishers. Each genuine textbook comes with a unique, one-time online learning system redemption code. Without this code, you cannot activate the online learning platform for the corresponding course, complete online assignments and quizzes, access additional academic materials released by professors, or even… obtain the final valid grade and credits for that course.”

He paused, his dark eyes turning to Eyjafjalla, his calm gaze seemingly able to see through the confusion in her eyes.

"In other words, these expensive 'books,' which cost hundreds of Colombian dollars each, are not just carriers of knowledge, but also 'mandatory tickets' to enter the corresponding courses and obtain credits. Students have almost no choice—either buy the official textbooks designated by the school with redemption codes, or give up the course, or risk failing by using second-hand books or photocopies without redemption codes, only to find that they can't make any progress."

Volume 19, page 1319: These are nothing.

Suri (in lamb form) remained calm, but her words, like a cold scalpel, dissected the hidden and expensive reality beneath the glamorous surface of Columbia's higher education. The high cost wasn't just tuition, but also the intricately bundled and unavoidable costs of textbook monopolies. It wasn't just the price of knowledge, but the price of "qualifications" and "pathways."

As Eyjafjalla listened, the initial shock was gradually replaced by a chilling understanding. So... even education required such a massive financial foundation. Behind those seemingly fair classes and credits lay another set of rules, where money was the barrier to entry.

“So,” Suri (in sheep form) concluded, her tone still calm, as if saying, “The weather is nice today,” “What you need to worry about is not the money. It’s how to use it effectively to acquire the knowledge and resources you need.”

He raised his hand, and the old touchscreen phone appeared in his palm. The screen lit up, displaying the interface of a bank's app. The long string of zeros representing the account balance was clearly visible under the bright lights of the corridor.

“These,” he pointed to the phone screen, then to the string of numbers on the bulletin board that made Eyjafjalla dizzy, “are nothing.”

A piece of cake.

Those three simple words, like the most solid rock, instantly steadied Eyjafjalla's wavering mind, shaken by the exorbitant reality. Yes, she had Suri. Suri possessed unimaginable wealth. These expenses, seemingly insurmountable to her, were perhaps truly just "nothing" in Suri's eyes.

A wave of overwhelming fear and relief washed over her, instantly dispelling the shock and bewilderment she had just felt. If it weren't for Suri, where would she be now? Perhaps still in that cold apartment in Cumberland, worrying about next month's rent, dreaming unattainable dreams while looking at Columbia University's brochures, only to be battered and bruised by the harsh realities of life, repeating the despair of her parents' generation.

And now, she not only stands here with an offer of admission, but more importantly, she has Su Rui. Su Rui will pay for her astronomical tuition fees, clear away all financial obstacles, and allow her to focus solely on her studies.

Overwhelmed with relief, as if she had survived a disaster, mixed with an unparalleled dependence on and gratitude towards Suri, Eyjafjalla's heart was filled with a surge of intense emotion. She could no longer contain herself. In the empty corridor, with only the occasional student or staff member passing by, she suddenly turned around, stretched out her arms, and hugged Suri tightly around the waist, burying her face deep in his chest.

“Suri… thank you… really… thank you…” Her voice was muffled, choked with sobs, and her arms were tightly wrapped around Suri, as if she wanted to merge herself into Suri’s body. It wasn’t just about the money; it was about pulling her out of that quagmire of despair and paving this seemingly impossible path to her dreams for her.

Suri (in lamb form) paused almost imperceptibly at the sudden, forceful hug. He looked down at the fluffy pink head in his arms, his black eyes silently processing the data stream analyzing the phenomenon of "the target individual experiencing intense emotional fluctuations, manifesting as high gratitude and dependence, accompanied by a surge in the need for physical contact." He made no move, neither returning the hug nor pushing away, simply standing like a silent, warm pillar, letting Eyjafjalla hold him, absorbing the constant, reassuring, cool aura emanating from him.

At the other end of the corridor, a few students carrying books glanced curiously at the two embracing (mainly because of Su Rui's striking silver hair and little horns), then looked away as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. On a university campus, expressions of emotion and intimate gestures are not uncommon.

After a while, Eyjafjalla gradually calmed down, loosened her arms, but still held tightly to Suri's sleeve, and looked up. Her pink eyes were still a little moist, but the light within them had become bright and firm again, full of anticipation for the future and unconditional trust in the person beside her.

“I’m not afraid anymore,” she said softly but clearly, as if making a vow to herself and to Su Rui, “With you here, I’m not afraid of anything. I will study hard and will definitely not waste my time… I won’t let you down!”

Suri (in his lamb form), seeing the renewed fighting spirit in her eyes, nodded almost imperceptibly. He raised his hand, seemingly wanting to habitually smooth out the wrinkles in his sleeve that Eyjafjalla had gripped, but ultimately simply said calmly:

"Okay. Let's go to the next place."

"Next place?" Eyjafjalla blinked, somewhat puzzled. Hadn't the enrollment procedures already been completed?

“Pre-order textbooks and apply for dormitories.” Su Rui (in sheep form) said succinctly, her black eyes looking towards the other end of the corridor. “Although we don’t live in the school dormitories, we still need to go through the procedures. Textbooks can be ordered in advance to avoid shortages or long queues when school starts.”

His words, as calm as ever, had already laid out the next steps in an orderly manner.

Eyjafjalla nodded vigorously, gripping the letter of acceptance tightly in her hand. With her other hand, she still held onto Suri's sleeve tightly, as if it were her only anchor point to a brand new future.

Sunlight streamed through the glass window at the end of the corridor, casting long shadows on the two figures. Ahead lay an exorbitant tuition bill, a monopolistic textbook system, and the unknown future of university life. But Eyjafjalla's heart was filled with courage.

Because Suri was there. And Suri said that these things were nothing.

As the first rays of morning sunlight pierced through the huge floor-to-ceiling window of the master bedroom on the second floor of 119 Oak Street, casting bright, warm dappled light onto the gleaming wooden floor, Eyjafjalla slowly awoke in an unprecedented mix of languor from a deep sleep and a lingering, subtle yet undeniable ache in her body.

The moment consciousness returned, the first thing she felt was the reassuring softness of the mattress beneath her and the fluffy, warm embrace of the down comforter. Then came the warm, firm touch against her skin, and the gentle tickling that brushed against her neck with her soft breathing.

She blinked, her pink eyes adjusting to the morning light for a moment before slowly focusing. What came into view was Su Rui's exquisite profile, so close to hers. His short, silver hair was scattered messily on the plain pillow, his long eyelashes casting soft shadows beneath his eyelids, and his usually calm, seemingly unfathomable black eyes were now quietly closed. He was sleeping soundly, his breathing long and steady. His face, usually almost expressionless, now displayed a pure, unguarded tranquility in the morning light.

Volume 19, Chapter 1320: Su Rui is Su Rui

Ayjafjalla's cheeks flushed uncontrollably. She then realized clearly that Suri was sleeping on his side, one hand casually resting on her waist, and his cheek was unconsciously pressed against her soft breasts, the warmth of his breath clearly penetrating through the thin fabric of his nightgown.

A warm current, a mixture of shyness, intimacy, and immense satisfaction, instantly washed over Eyjafjalla. She didn't even dare to breathe deeply, afraid of disturbing this tranquil and beautiful moment. The chaotic, burning fragments of memories from last night, filled with both pain and extreme pleasure, flooded back into her mind like a tide, making her cheeks and ears burn.

But more intense than shyness was a strange, overwhelming sense of security, as if she possessed the whole world. Suri, this powerful, mysterious, seemingly omnipotent being, was now sleeping so relaxed and defenseless beside her, relying on her body heat. This feeling softened a corner of her heart beyond repair.

She carefully moved her somewhat stiff body, the subtle yet distinct soreness in her waist, abdomen, and thighs making her involuntarily take a soft breath. Last night… it really was a bit… too intense. But thinking of the deeper connection she shared with Su Rui that lay behind that pain, that soreness seemed to transform into a sweet imprint.

She lowered her head, looking at Su Rui's peaceful sleeping face, her pink eyes filled with gentle light. After hesitating for a moment, she reached out, her fingertips gently brushing his soft hair, and then, with even lighter pressure, poked his cheek.

"Suri...Suri?" Her voice was slightly hoarse from just waking up, and deliberately soft. "It's dawn, time to get up."