Those thoughts usually suppressed by rationality all surfaced.

He wanted to restrain himself, but he couldn’t control the incessant chatter, each voice louder and more urgent than the last.

Perhaps this was his truest thoughts.

Only usually wrapped tightly by adult propriety and restraint.

But once transformed into a butterfly, the form may be small, but the heart is bare.

Those sour grumbles and childish complaints became the outlet for true feelings instead.

Alza couldn’t understand what the butterfly was chirping about.

All he could hear was a succession of sharp cries, like some kind of emotion exploding by his ear, pricking and numbing them.

Previously, Heath Langdon always enjoyed holding him in his arms, warm palm, gentle movements, like protecting a rare treasure.

Back then, Alza never struggled, obediently lying there, gently rubbing his nose against Heath’s collar.

But now, Heath Langdon had reverted to his original form, turning into a furry little butterfly, perched on his head all day, wings trembling slightly, like a restless little alarm clock.

Alza stayed silent and quiet.

He dared not move, afraid that a single movement would shake the butterfly off.

He even held his breath, fearing that breathing too heavily would harm the fragile wings.

Yet within this silence, too many unspoken thoughts were hidden.

"Female Master, don’t hold the child recently, your wrist must be hurting."

Heath Langdon flew down from Alza’s head, landing on Selene’s shoulder, fluttering his wings twice, earnestly advising.

"I saw you rubbing your wrist several times last night, it was all red. Holding for too long is not good for the joints."

"Leave the child to us."

He added another sentence, his tone resolute.

The furry little head gently nudged Selene’s chest.

Not heavy, not pressing, yet the contact was intimate and close.

He inhaled the faint fragrance on her lapel, his heartbeat slowing, his whole being softened.

The Little Butterfly grabbed the fur on his ear, wings trembling in anger.

"You conniving fox! Who allowed you to cling to the Female Master’s chest? I haven’t even snuggled there! Who do you think you are? Get up! Stay away! If you don’t let go, I’ll peck your eyes out!"

Alza’s ear hurt fiercely from being pinched, his entire body stiffened, his expression almost cracking.

He gritted his teeth, lips pressed into a line.

But he just wouldn’t get up.

He stubbornly stuck there, even painfully trembling, unwilling to let go of that little bit of warmth.

An ear twitch.

In the moment when the Little Butterfly hadn’t reacted yet, that twitch carried an accumulated force, bursting like a spring.

Heath Langdon, unprepared, was directly bounced out.

"Ah!"

He screamed, flailing as he adjusted his direction, finally steadying himself, stopping at the edge of the lampshade.

"You wicked thing!"

He flapped his wings, angrily accusing.

"You did it on purpose! Do you think acting pitiful can make you win? Dream on! The Female Master belongs to everyone! Not just you!"

Alza harbored secrets in his heart.

He used to be frail, constantly having fevers, growing out of breath after just a few steps, even needing help to lift a bowl of hot soup.

He didn’t dare get close to the Female Master, afraid of passing on illness with just a cough.

But now, after all this time of care, with medicine taken, supplements consumed, and muscles trained.

He finally felt capable.

Capable of protecting her, capable of holding her, capable of standing rightfully beside her.

"Female Master..."

His voice was low, like a mosquito’s hum.

Selene was lowering her head, tidying the swaddling clothes, and looked up at the words.

"Hmm?"

Her eyes gentle, with a smile, yet unaware that that soft response had warmed Alza’s heart.

She blinked in confusion, wondering why the child was unusually clingy today?

Usually, isn’t he quite quiet?

Alza felt like stomping his feet in frustration.

Why is this person so dull!

I’ve nearly laid my heart bare for you, and you can still smile so nonchalantly?

His chest heaved, his breathing became erratic.

Finally, he suddenly grabbed Selene’s hand, a move so quick it left her no time to react, pressing it hard against his chest.

His voice trembled beyond recognition.

"Female Master... I-I’m ready."

After speaking, he immediately dared not look at her, almost frantically bowing his head.

"However you want to touch, I can handle it."

He always knew she would return, would stand before him, he should have given his heart long ago, clearly and openly presenting it to her.

Kane...

This time, I will never let go.

He secretly vowed, even if it takes a lifetime, he would firmly grip this hard-won closeness.

Selene slowly reacted.

Oh, so that’s what the Little Fox meant.

She paused, her eyebrows slightly raised, a flicker of realization passing through her eyes, mixed with an amused smile.

The system buzzed incessantly by her ear, like an annoying little fly, incessantly reminding her that she still had a little fox by her side?

Bond in progress, status good, emotional intimacy yet to improve.

It should... also be quite endearing, right?

She mused inwardly, her gaze unconsciously drifting towards the corner.

Wanda Shaw now spent her days eating and sleeping, as chubby as a little meatball, curled up softly.

But Selene didn’t think she’d turn into a cute and charming type in the future.

Those eyes, shockingly bright, impenetrably black, made it clear she wasn’t one to be trifled with.

"You, a male, saying things like that, aren’t you embarrassed?"

She finally spoke, her tone light.

But Alza seemed struck by lightning.

Not angered, not furious, but so excited that his very soul trembled.

"Female Master, I am your male. For your happiness, I would gladly die."

He spoke earnestly, a thin layer of mist rising in his eyes.

He secretly chastised himself for being worthless.

The more he thought, the more he felt he sank to the dust, unworthy even to look at her.

Yet he was greedy for this moment of closeness, for the warmth of her fingertips.

Even if just for a moment, it was enough to drive him mad.

Good thing, he remained pure.

All these years, he hadn’t let anyone touch him, not an inch of his body.

He saved the entirety of himself for today, for her.

A tear silently hit the floor, a small splash of water.

He knelt at her feet, knees on the ground, his stance humble.

Selene’s heart warmed.

As if by some strange compulsion, she reached out, her trembling fingertips exploring inside his garment.

This piece of clothing, modeled after ancient Han attire from her past life, she had sewn every stitch by hand.

The fabric was soft, the seams delicate, a testament to her care.

Not even bothering to sew an inner garment.

At the time, she hadn’t thought much, simply finding it beautiful.

But at this moment, her unfettered design allowed her finger tips unobstructed entry.

A light glide of the fingertips clutched that gentle curve.

The warm skin trembled slightly beneath her touch.

She gently kneaded, her fingers circling and circling at the tip.

Alza bit his lip, biting so hard it turned white, almost drawing blood.

His eyes quickly misted over, his eyelashes quivered.

He wanted to yell, but his throat felt blocked, releasing only broken breaths.

"Don’t..."

Selene’s lips curled into a knowing smile, slowing her hand movements on purpose.

"No touching? Then forget about it."