TFRLTOP Chapter 82 Part 2

Her eyes went wide. “Guan Yi—don’t tell me this thing is—”

He grinned. “My creation.”

Guan Yi let out a low laugh, his voice dark and teasing.
“Sweetheart, did you really think I was some kind of gentleman?”

“Guan Yi…” Ming Ming’s voice trembled. “You… what are you—?”

Her eyes widened. He’s really using the tentacles? How—?
But no tentacles were extending from his body, so… where were they coming from?

“I never told you,” he said, leaning closer, a sly smile curving his lips. “My tentacles can detach and move on their own. Impressive, right?”

Ming Ming instinctively reached for him, but before she could, something wrapped around her wrists and gently pulled her back. The sensation was strange, unfamiliar—but not painful.

“Don’t be afraid,” Guan Yi said softly. “They won’t hurt you.”

He leaned down and kissed her, the sound of his low laughter mixing with her quickened breathing.

“See? I told you I’ve been wanting to try this for a while.”

Ming Ming froze, her heart racing. Everything felt too intense, too fast. The strange hammock seemed to come alive around her.

“Guan Yi…” she whispered, voice barely audible. “Please…”

But he only smiled faintly, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “It’s okay. Just trust me.”

The moment stretched—tense, breathless—until Ming Ming finally pushed at his chest, her voice suddenly clear and serious.

“Wait. There’s something I have to tell you first.”

He stopped, looking at her in confusion. “What is it?”

“I… can’t have children,” she said quietly, turning her head aside.

For a heartbeat, he just stared at her—then sat back, startled. The silence that followed was awkward, broken only by his stammered apology.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t know. I was just… joking around. I’m sorry.”

He looked genuinely regretful, his voice softening. “Really, I didn’t mean to bring up something painful. Forget what I said, okay? I just wanted to tease you a little.”

Ming Ming blinked, caught off guard. She had expected frustration or disappointment—but instead, he looked guilty. Her chest tightened with sudden emotion.

He hadn’t even questioned her words. He just believed her.

Her eyes misted. He really does care for me…

She smiled faintly and leaned closer, resting her forehead against his. “You’re forgiven,” she murmured.

He chuckled and kissed her gently. The tension between them softened, and for a long moment, neither spoke. Outside, the forest was silent except for the whisper of wind through the trees.

Later, long after the lights of the camp had faded behind them, the two finally drifted into a quiet embrace. The rest of the night passed in darkness—soft voices, hushed laughter, and the sound of the hammock swaying gently beneath the stars.

By morning, the group was on the move again.
Ming Ming could barely stand without wobbling, and Guan Yi had to steady her as she climbed into the vehicle.

Inside, Li Hua greeted her with a yawn.
“Morning, Ming Ming.”

“Morning,” she replied tiredly. “I could sleep for a week.”

“Same,” he groaned. “But I still have to drive.”

“Speaking of driving,” she muttered, “I still don’t even have a license.”

“Doesn’t matter. No traffic cops left in the apocalypse anyway—”

“Enough with the English practice, you two,” Guan Yi interrupted as he climbed in, pulling Ming Ming gently into his arms. “Rest for a bit, sweetheart. We’ve got a long day ahead.”

Too exhausted to argue, Ming Ming nestled against his chest and closed her eyes.

In the front seat, Li Hua shot a sulky glance at An Ning, who was scribbling in her notebook without looking up.

“Don’t look at me,” she said flatly. “You really think a scientist calculating humanity’s survival odds is going to take over your shift so you can nap? Besides, who was the one crying on my shoulder all night?”

Li Hua bit his tongue and started the engine.