Ever since Fox Lian left her with that ambiguous "invitation," Emma felt like she was drowning in temptation.
Her gaze began to uncontrollably chase his silver tail. Sometimes it hung lazily behind him; other times it swayed gently with his mood, catching the sunlight in soft glimmers. It looked like a plush cloud—no, like a flowing galaxy.
I want to touch it.
The thought haunted her day and night, stronger and more persistent than her earlier curiosity about his ears. Ears were small, localized softness. But the tail… it was expansive, warm-looking, and undeniably fluffy.
She even started analyzing its movement patterns—when he focused in class, it stayed still; when he chatted happily, the tip curled upward in an elegant arc; and when his gaze happened to catch hers before she could look away, the tail would mischievously sweep the floor, as if reminding her it was there.
Emma felt like she was losing her mind. Her prized composure crumbled in the face of that tail.
Gu Liang seemed to notice Emma's distraction—and the way her eyes kept sneaking glances at Fox Lian's tail. She leaned in and whispered, "Emma… have you really fallen for Lord Fox Lian?"
Emma panicked. "No! I'm just… researching!"
"Researching?" Gu Liang tilted her head, dragon eyes puzzled. "Researching what? Fox clan behavior?"
Emma: "…Something like that." Researching what that tail feels like. But she'd rather die than say it aloud.
To redirect her attention—and calm her restless "research cravings"—Emma went to the market and bought the largest, fluffiest white plush pillow she could find. It was nearly half her height.
That night, she hugged the pillow, burying her face in its long fur. It was soft. Warm. Comfortable. But… not the same. It lacked the vitality of breath, the subtle movement, and most of all—that unique scent that belonged to Fox Lian.
Not enough. Not even close.
Frustrated, Emma tossed the pillow aside and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was filled with that silver tail—moving, teasing, mocking her futile efforts.
Then came a knock at the door.
Who could it be this late? Emma got up, puzzled.
She opened the door—and froze.
Fox Lian.
He seemed to have just returned from outside, carrying the cool scent of night dew. His silver hair shimmered under the corridor lanterns, and his fox ears stood out sharply in the darkness. But Emma's eyes locked onto the tail behind him—so close, so temptingly within reach.
"Emma," Fox Lian's voice was deeper than usual, his violet eyes dark and unreadable. "May I have a word?"
Emma's heart pounded wildly. She instinctively stepped aside to let him in, then quickly shut the door, pressing her back against it, staring at him in nervous silence.
Fox Lian glanced around her room, his eyes landing on the oversized white plush pillow tossed on the bed. His brow lifted slightly, and his lips curved into a faint, amused smile.
"So," he turned to face her, tail swaying lazily behind him, "Emma's research… hit a wall?"
Emma flushed crimson, feeling utterly exposed. She forced herself to sound calm. "What brings you here at this hour, Lord Fox Lian?"
He stepped closer, narrowing the space between them. His cool scent, mixed with night air, enveloped her.
"I came," he leaned in slightly, violet eyes locking onto hers, voice low and magnetic, "to offer… firsthand research material."
Emma's eyes widened in shock.
He turned around, back facing her—and then, the tail she'd been dreaming of, that soft, silvery, living cloud—gently brushed against the back of her hand.
!!!
Emma jolted, as if struck by a gentle bolt of lightning.
The sensation… was beyond anything she'd imagined.
Warm. Soft. Smooth. Alive. It had a subtle elasticity and tremble unique to living fluff. The fine fur glided across her skin, sending a shiver straight to her soul. It was more exquisite than all her "samples" combined.
Her fingers curled instinctively, craving more.
Fox Lian glanced over his shoulder, catching her dazed, enchanted expression. He chuckled softly, then—generously—draped the entire tail over her arm. The plush volume engulfed half her forearm.
"Now," he said, voice rich with satisfaction, "does the research… meet your expectations, Emma?"
Emma stared at the warm, silvery "cloud" resting on her arm, rising and falling with his breath. The touch was so real, so overwhelming, it burned away every shred of logic.
One thought screamed in her mind:
It's over. I've completely fallen.