My Vampire Boyfriend

Chapter 23: The Embrace

South City was a tranquil tourist town where spring lingered all year round. Life flowed at a leisurely pace—slow, unhurried, and comforting.

When the rhythm of life slowed, time itself seemed to stretch. Ethan stood quietly before his grandfather’s grave, recalling the supernatural encounter he had witnessed at the tender age of six.

He gazed at the familiar photograph etched onto the tombstone. The man in it appeared cultured and solemn, a faint smile on his lips. Perhaps it was an illusion caused by the monochrome photo, but within those aged eyes lingered a deep melancholy and loneliness.

“Qinghe.”

Hearing his father’s voice, Ethan realized he had been lost in thought, lingering far too long before his grandfather’s tomb.

Perhaps it was because he had returned to his grandfather’s old house, but he had dreamed again last night—terrifying dreams of vampires with grotesque faces tearing into something mangled and bloody. Just when he tried to run, a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes, and a soft “hush” whispered beside his ear. It was his grandfather, warning him not to look and assuring him that it was only a dream.

Seeing that his son seemed fine, Chi Hong said, “Your mother’s not feeling well. Let’s head home.”

They had only arrived the previous afternoon, and now, early the next morning, they were already leaving. Normally Ethan would not have thought much of it, but this year was different—he remembered what Liam had once mentioned about “half-bloods.”

The three gruesome cases in West City might have been the work of such half-bloods. If so, the vampires’ appearance could be tied to them. And the strange event he had witnessed as a child… perhaps it had not been a dream at all.

“Dad,” Ethan asked suddenly, “was Grandpa’s death really an accident?”

Chi Hong’s expression flickered before he sighed softly. “Yes. Ten years already… He worried about you the most. It’s good that you came to see him.”

Ethan’s gaze lingered on the tombstone. His grandfather had passed at only fifty-nine—a short life, reduced to a few lines carved into stone.

Life was fleeting. A hundred years from now, who would remember a man named Lin Wenshu, who had gone hiking during the New Year and accidentally fallen to his death?

And he himself would be forgotten, too. Lucien, that foolish ghost, had said “soon” before leaving—but perhaps by now he had already forgotten him and found a new blood donor.

“Don’t bring this up in front of your mother,” Chi Hong reminded gently, patting his son’s back. “It’ll only make her sad. Come on, don’t disturb your grandpa—he liked peace and quiet.”

When they went inside, Ethan noticed his mother looked pale and weary. Concerned, he took the car keys from the table and went out first to start the car.

His grandfather’s old house stood alone in the countryside, surrounded by no neighbors. A large pond lay in front of it, while the yard backed onto abandoned fields. The car was parked in the rear yard.

As he pulled out, something dark caught his eye by the pond—a shadowy clump in the weeds, perhaps trash… or an animal.

He recalled the strange noises and the sharp cat cries from last night. Frowning, he stepped out of the car. The closer he got, the more certain he became it wasn’t garbage. When he brushed the weeds aside and saw clearly, he froze.

It was a black cat—drained of blood. Its small body lay twisted, the neck nearly severed, the death gruesome and grotesque.

There was no scent of decay in the air. A cold premonition crept up Ethan’s spine. He crouched down and turned the shriveled body over. As he suspected, two small puncture marks marred the other side of its neck.

It wasn’t a dream. Vampires—or perhaps half-bloods—existed even here in South City.

“Ethan, let’s go!”

Snapping out of it, Ethan quickly took a few photos with his phone, covered the corpse with weeds, and returned to the car as though nothing had happened.

He slid into the back seat and said, “Dad, I didn’t sleep well last night. You drive.”

Indeed, he hadn’t slept well—not since Lucien had left. Every night, his pillow felt cold and empty, and whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Lucien’s tear-streaked face, pitiful and sad.

His mother, Lin Pei, felt a pang of sympathy when she heard he hadn’t slept. She herself had spent a restless night. “Every year we say we’ll come visit,” she murmured, “and once we do—”

“It’s the New Year,” Chi Hong interrupted quickly, smiling. “Let’s not talk about sad things. Your father-in-law wanted peace. We’ll come again next year.”

“Mom, what were you saying?” Ethan asked.

“Just thinking of your grandfather,” she smiled. “Remember those summers you spent here when you were a kid? He raised chickens and ducks, and grew watermelons in the yard.”

Ethan nodded. He remembered. Most of his childhood had been spent in this house. But after his grandfather’s sudden death that winter, the old place had fallen silent, visited only once a year when his father came to clean it.

He opened his phone and zoomed in on the photo of the cat’s neck. The bite marks didn’t quite match the ones Lucien had left—they seemed different. Maybe the killer was a half-blood.

But if it was, why had it only killed a cat instead of a human? The pattern didn’t match the West City murders. Could half-bloods vary in strength?

If only that foolish ghost were here.

Thinking that, Ethan opened the streamer’s fan group chat. Hundreds of members, yet no one was talking—just a few days ago, everyone had been lively, wondering why “His Grace the War God” hadn’t gone live.

He tapped on their private chat. Scrolling upward, he found rows of voice messages from Lucien—sent punctually every day, not one missed. Each was followed by a mischievous emoji, stolen from who knows where.

Ethan’s thumb hovered over the keyboard, ready to type something. But he forced himself to stop. Whether Lucien could see or not, he mustn’t send a message—not to Lucien, not to Liam.

Even though he owed Lucien an apology.

Back in the city, Ethan didn’t visit relatives. He stayed home working on his thesis for days, yet despite all his effort, wrote only a few pages. The strange events at the old house he chose to ignore, setting aside all doubts and returning to a normal human routine, determined to forget the vampire who had unsettled his heart.

When the holiday ended, Ethan and Ryan prepared to return to West City. By then, he could finally sleep through the night again. Once work resumed and new projects came, he would have no time to think about Lucien.

Before leaving, he deleted everything—resigned his fan group admin role, quit the chat, erased Lucien’s messages and their entire chat history.

“Hey, haven’t seen Lucien online lately,” Ryan remarked. “Didn’t his streams blow up? I messaged him but he never replied.”

He didn’t notice how Ethan’s face cooled at once. Dragging his suitcase, Ethan lengthened his stride. Ryan caught up, still chatting cheerfully.

“When we’re back, I’m making him treat me to dinner. I’m the one who got him into streaming—he ought to thank his mentor, right?”

“No.”

“Huh?” Ryan blinked, confused.

Just when Ethan had finally stopped thinking about him, Ryan’s words pulled Lucien right back into his mind—Lucien, crying and wiping his tears, cursing him for being a bastard. His chest tightened painfully.

After a pause, he said quietly, “Lucien went home. Don’t bring him up again.”

“Home? To his dad or his mom?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Ryan frowned. “You two didn’t fight, did you? Though with that guy’s temper, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Ethan didn’t answer. In his mind, Lucien was still bouncing around like an angry monkey, golden tears streaming as he yelled at him.

Finally, Ethan stopped walking and murmured, “He’s… fine.”

“What?”

“The guy’s not bad-tempered,” Ethan said after a pause, the spring wind brushing his face as he gazed up at the faint sun. “He’s actually… really good.”

“Maybe with you,” Ryan grumbled. “With me, he’s a pain. Damn it, that guy plays favorites. One day I’ll make him call me ‘dad,’ too.”

“No.”

“What’s wrong with—”

“Stop talking. We’ve got work tomorrow. Let’s go.”

“…Fine.”

Early March—spring sunlight blazing, the world renewing itself. Everything seemed fresh again, and the strange, unsettling shadows of the past year faded away with the old.

Ethan’s two-month internship came to an end, though his team leader’s project did not. So he stayed on.

He needed to stay busy—to keep himself from thinking of that foolish vampire.

Before returning to West City, he had thought about renting a new place. But after chatting briefly with Ryan, he decided against it.

If he moved, Lucien might not be able to find him.

He still owed him an apology.

He never reached out to Liam, only waited in silence for Lucien to prove himself.

If he couldn’t forget, then so be it. If he still liked him, then let it be. Life was too short to waste on denial. He only wanted Lucien to remember him—to remember that there had once been someone named Ethan in this world.

But two weeks passed, and the little bat still didn’t appear.

As the project neared completion, Ethan volunteered for overtime, often working until ten at night. His dedication didn’t go unnoticed. Team leader Wang Yuanshan, seeing such promise in his intern, decided it was time.

“Chi,” he said, “free after work?”

“I’ve got plans,” Ethan replied.

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” Wang said with a grin. “How about a drink? My treat.”

Ethan disliked how the man always assumed. Luckily, the project was nearly over. “Sorry, sir. I really have something to do,” he said curtly.

“Well, all right. It’s late anyway—get some rest,” Wang said with a smile as Ethan left.

By the time Ethan reached his apartment building, it was past ten.

He locked his car and walked slowly through the cool evening air. The night Lucien left had been cold; now, spring was nearly here. Time had flown—almost Qingming already.

The hallway was quiet. He always walked slowly now, because the apartment still carried traces of Lucien. Before unlocking the door each night, he would pause and wonder—had Lucien come back? Would he surprise him one day?

Foolish ghost… please come back.

Ethan opened the door. The apartment was pitch dark. As he reached for the light switch, a faint sound made him freeze. By the soft glow from the corridor lamp, he saw a black silhouette standing by the window.

“You’re finally back! Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?!”

Lucien stepped out of the shadows, brimming with confidence. He was ready to unleash the ultimate weapon he had spent weeks mastering—the pureblood’s potent charm.

He would make Ethan kneel and apologize, then flash his new account stats and massive fanbase right in his face. Let’s see who dared to mock him for “pleasing humans” again!

His eyes gleamed as he fixed them on Ethan—only for Ethan to rush forward in the next instant.

Wait—what?! That wasn’t supposed to happen!

“Hey, what are you—?!”

Ethan pulled the long-awaited vampire into his arms, holding him so tightly it was as if he wanted to fuse him into his own body.

Lucien froze for several seconds, stunned, nearly suffocated, and then began to struggle furiously. “What the hell’s wrong with you?! Let go! Vampires need to breathe too!”

“Let me hold you for a while.”

“No! You’re crushing me!”

“I can’t help it. Just… let me hold you.”

“You—!”