When the Blood Corpse Came After Us, We Hid in the Same Coffin

The blood corpse’s fingernails scraped across the coffin lid. Its creaking sounded like bones being chewed.

Su Qing’s silver hairpin pressed against Lin Ye’s throat, but she deliberately eased up a little, the end of the pin brushing his feverish skin.

He suddenly seized her wrist. Corpse oil dripped between his fingers onto the back of her hand, cold as a snake crawling over it.

She abruptly turned her head and licked the bead of blood from his earlobe. The metallic sweetness mingled with his body heat, burning her tongue until it went numb.

The blood corpse slammed against the side of the coffin. Stone chips pelted her back, yet she curled even tighter into his arms, her knee pushing his belt open with a slight tremble.

Lin Ye’s hand rested on the back of her neck. Amid the musty smell of burial cloth, he caught the scent of ink in her hair and suddenly bent down to bite the corner of her lip.

It wasn’t hard, but her silver hairpin fell to the ground. Her fingertips dug into an old wound on his back, and beads of blood seeped through his shirt, mingling with the corpse oil on the back of his hand.

The blood corpse’s roar pierced the coffin. She pressed herself even closer to him, her lower back striking the bones at the bottom of the coffin. Pain made her lashes tremble, yet she guided his hand to her heart.

Its beating pulsed through the gaps between his fingers, burrowing into his bones, more enticing than the blood corpse’s claws.

He suddenly let go of her lip, his breath brushing the corner of her mouth. “Keep teasing me… and I’ll let it watch to its heart’s content.”

She laughed aloud, but her tongue gently traced the spot he had bitten red, as if answering the blood corpse’s roar as it drew closer.