Quick Transmigration: Only You Are the Desire of My Heart

As she spoke, tears began to fall in a steady stream.

Tears rolled down Song Qingyin's cheeks, each drop hitting the ground with a barely audible sound, seemingly telling of her helplessness and despair. Her voice trembled, each word filled with long-suppressed anger and sorrow.

“I’m locked up in this room by you every day, like a pet waiting for your favor. I have no freedom, I can’t see the sunlight, and all I’m left with is loneliness… Luo Ruchuan, you’ve never given me a choice…”

She gripped his shirt tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, as if trying to embed her pain and dependence into his body. Tears soaked into his clothes, the heat seeping through the fabric to his skin, burning him and causing him waves of heartache.

Fear and love intertwined in his heart, forming an inescapable net that tightened its grip on him.

He was terrified of her leaving and afraid of her rejection, so he forcefully kept her by his side. He thought that as long as he treated her better and better, she would see his heart, and he would wait for her to come to her senses. If one year didn't work, he would wait two years, if two years didn't work, he would wait five years, ten years, and one day she would accept him again.

But watching her grow haggard day by day, seeing the once-bright light in her eyes gradually fade, seeing her become more and more silent, he belatedly realized that he was wrong. He had selfishly kept her by his side, imprisoning her in an invisible cage, robbing her of her happiness, and strangling her soul.

His love became a constraint, a burden to her.

"Ah Yin, I'm sorry—"

Luo Ruchuan opened his mouth with difficulty, his voice dry and his pale words sounding so powerless.

"Not all hurts can be healed with an apology. Even if the wound heals, the scars will remain forever."

Song Qingyin smiled sadly, looked up at Luo Ruchuan, and said softly, her voice full of sorrow, "Luo Ruchuan, I... don't want to forgive you..."

In truth, she disliked enclosed spaces, so quiet that she could only hear her own heartbeat, because they always reminded her of unpleasant things. She also disliked waiting, because endless waiting only brought disappointment and deeper despair after hopes were dashed.

Luo Ruchuan made her relive all of this.

"But I still can't let you go, what should I do?" As if talking to himself, Luo Ruchuan felt both joy and guilt.

He couldn't let go, couldn't escape, couldn't avoid it. He knew that his past actions would always stand between them, and that he was the root cause of all this.

Luo Ruchuan's hand on Song Qingyin's shoulder slowly tightened, the guilt and regret in his heart gradually overwhelming him. He wanted to say something but stopped himself from speaking. In the end, he could only manage a bitter smile.

Perhaps exhausted from crying, Song Qingyin's breathing gradually stabilized. Tears still clung to her trembling eyelashes, like butterfly wings fluttering in the air, fragile and sensitive.

He carefully lifted the person in his arms. The crisp scent of wine mixed with her fragrance brought him a strange sense of peace. Holding her in his arms felt like holding the whole world.

He gently placed her on the sofa in the lounge, softly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze greedily traced her features, etching her image into his heart little by little.

The alcohol was stimulating her brain, but Song Qingyin still retained a sliver of clarity. Those words were merely an attempt to evoke guilt in him under the influence of alcohol. After making a mistake, one must bear the consequences; too easy forgiveness always leads to a lack of appreciation.

But later she was truly heartbroken. She was acutely aware of her mission; every step she took was aimed at winning him over. But nothing comes without effort, and feelings are no exception.

False affection is like a bubble in the sunlight, easily burst. How could she not give her heart as she gradually got closer to Luo Ruchuan? Knowing that she came for him, she was more dependent on him than on others.

Therefore, her tolerance for him decreases. Perhaps it's unfair to him, but it's also because he's different from everyone else in the world to her.

She herself handed him the right to hurt her.

However, she only felt at ease when she was with Luo Ruchuan. The most painful thing was to be consciously immersed in the depravity.

Her current inner conflict stems from a combination of emotional dependence and rational distancing.

As soon as her tense nerves relaxed, fatigue began to wash over her. Song Qingyin never expected that she would cry herself to sleep next to Luo Ruchuan.

……

……

When Song Qingyin woke up, it was still dark. Beside her, Luo Ruchuan, who was as tall as her, was curled up on the floor, propping his head up with one hand on the sofa next to her. His eyes were closed, and his dark eyelashes cast a dark shadow under his eyelids.

The main lights in the lounge were off, leaving only a few wall lamps casting a pale yellow glow.

Only now did she take a good look at Luo Ruchuan. He had lost a lot of weight in just four months. He was already quite thin, and now his chin was noticeably pointed. His slender face made his handsome features even more sharp.

The black shirt was casually unbuttoned at the collar, revealing fair skin and delicate collarbones. It wasn't that he hadn't worn clothes like this before; in fact, because she said she liked it, he almost replaced all the clothes in his wardrobe with shirts like this.

Now, however, the clothes that once fit him well look loose on him. It doesn't diminish his elegance, but it does make one feel sorry for him.

Song Qingyin propped herself up on her elbow and leaned to the side, looking down at him. The black cloak covering her slipped off, and she realized that he had covered her with his own clothes, while he himself was dressed in very thin clothes.

The chill of early spring was still biting, and even indoors, there was a slight chill in the air.

He could always notice all sorts of small details about her.

Reaching out, just as she removed her clothes, the movement inadvertently created a slight gust of air, waking the light sleeper.

His gaze flickered slightly, revealing a clear understanding in his eyes.

"You're awake. Does your head hurt?" He asked naturally, reaching out to smooth the messy strands of hair on her forehead, but Song Qingyin turned her head away.

His hand froze in mid-air. Luo Ruchuan withdrew it somewhat dejectedly, steadied his stiff body, and slowly propped himself up. Even as the injury was aggravated, he didn't even frown.