Xin Hexue had never seen such a shameless person without any face or skin.
Whether it was scolding or hitting, Hen Zhen would accept it all completely, and would even feel pleasure from it.
“Beast!”
His voice was trembling, and his whole body was soaked with sweat from the torture.
Because there were too many pearls, and all pressed together, any slight movement of the body made them rub against the wet, red and soft flesh, churning out juices.
Xin Hexue groaned softly, and his voice seemed to be moist.
He glanced sideways, the corners of his eyes flushed red, and ordered Hen Zhen harshly, “Take them out.”
Hen Zhen lowered his head, ignoring him, only nudging him like some large dog.
The man with sword-like eyebrows and phoenix eyes had features that were different from traditional people from Central Plains and leaned more toward the depth and sharpness of foreigners, and his long hair was brown, curling at the ends.
The breed of dog looked like an unkempt Tibetan Mastiff.
“Ah Xue, Ah Xue, Ah Xue…”
Hen Zhen kissed Xin Hexue’s earlobe, kissed the sweat-soaked hair on Xin Hexue’s forehead, and kissed all the way to the smooth and beautiful jawline.
Finally, he looked at Xin Hexue, and said in an extremely hoarse voice, “Don’t keep looking at me with that kind of expression, and don’t call me a beast with that tone… I want to **** you again.”
‘?’
Xin Hexue heard a beep censor.
K: […It’s a dirty word.]
A dirty word little cats can’t hear.
‘Was that shielding really necessary?’
Xin Hexue could guess the censored word based on context.
Hen Zhen explained the reason: “You shed too many tears, it causes a loss of spiritual power in your body and you need to absorb it back.”
“Very soon, it won’t be long.” Hen Zhen soothed Xin Hexue’s mood. He propped himself up and adjusted his angle to check the situation. The red and silent lips opened and closed, breathing in and out, all wet. Hen Zhen’s Adam’s apple rolled up and down, “Ah Xue, you really have a lot of water, as if you were melted by the heat.”
Xin Hexue said coldly, “Enough, you can shut up now.”
He wanted to slap him, but feared Hen Zhen would get pleasure from it.
Hen Zhen was fully prepared, but in the end, only received Xin Hexue’s cold reprimand and was a bit disappointed. “What, you’re not going to hit me?”
He then raised a sharp eyebrow with interest and asked, “Are you feeling sorry for me?”
Back in the pool, Hen Zhen’s broad back and shoulders had been scratched badly by Xin Hexue, and blood beads oozed in horizontal and vertical lines. The healing ability of demons was different from ordinary people, and now a layer of scabs had already formed.
‘What a pity.’ Hen Zhen thought with some regret. Given Xin Hexue’s strength, there probably wouldn’t be any scars left after the scabs fell off.
Those were supposed to be honorable scars; anyone who saw them would know he had been with Xin Hexue.
Who was he?
He was Xin Hexue’s lover.
To confirm this answer, Hen Zhen leaned in and asked, “What kind of relationship do we have now?”
“Don’t act cheap.” Xin Hexue didn’t even have the energy to curse him. He lay in the thick brocade quilt, face buried in his arms. “Enough, hurry up.”
The snow-white back was flexible, with thin muscles giving slightly uneven rises and falls spread along the spine, beautiful and smooth.
From the shoulders downward was the waistline, tapering inward from both sides toward the center.
And the line of the spine started from the back of the neck, extending straight downward.
Hen Zhen lowered his head obediently, his Adam’s apple rolling as he swallowed once.
Xin Hexue felt this damn bastard was doing it on purpose.
His sensitivity point was shallow, so every time Hen Zhen coaxed out a pearl, he would pretend to casually rub the tender flesh with the callused pad of his fingertip.
Xin Hexue bit his lip hard, but still couldn’t hold back the low moan that slipped through his teeth.
It was so ambiguous and hoarse that even he himself couldn’t believe it.
Hen Zhen repeated the same trick, doing it five or six times in total. One by one, smooth white pearls rolled out from between the long legs. The part of the brocade quilt that was originally bright red had now turned black from being soaked.
The pearls had lost the spiritual luster they had at first, now looking just like ones harvested from an ordinary clam shell, not ones born from a koi demon’s tears.
However, with a layer of shimmering water over them, they were still eye-catching under the candlelight.
Hen Zhen finally took out all the pearls, and Xin Hexue couldn’t bear it anymore and fell asleep.
Compared to the pale complexion he had before dual cultivation due to spiritual power deficiency, his face was now slightly rosu from the replenishment.
He had sweated a lot.
And there had been too much water flow.
Only after Hen Zhen finished cleaning Xin Hexue did he carry him to the canopy bed in the center of the hall.
The bed was large enough to sleep two adult men.
Hen Zhen held Xin Hexue in his arms.
His hand rested on the young man’s back, so slender that Hen Zhen could trace the path of each bone and vein beneath his palm, engraving them deeply into his heart.
A great sense of satisfaction suddenly welled up within him.
No wonder there was an old saying: “To die beneath the peony blossom is a romantic death for any man.”
But suddenly, Hen Zhen didn’t want to die anymore. A demon might not get to become a ghost after death, an evil demon like him would probably even have his soul scattered into oblivion.
In this case, if he died, what would happen if there were so many poor scholars out there trying to get to the top?
He had to cling to Xin Hexue forever.
Hen Zhen’s expression was the picture of tenderness. No matter who saw him at this moment, they wouldn’t associate him with the sinful blood koi demon.
He leaned down and kissed the center of Xin Hexue’s forehead, just a brief dragonfly-touch.
………
When Xin Hexue woke up again, Hen Zhen was gone.
He didn’t know how long he had slept, but the sunlight beyond the curtain was bright and dazzling.
Perhaps it was because Hen Zhen had cleaned up and massaged him after everything last night, Xin Huexue didn’t feel particularly uncomfortable when he got out of bed except for some soreness in his waist.
He flipped through the jade pillow and even turned over the bedding on the canopy bed.
Where had Hen Zhen stored the pearls from last night?
Xin Hexue hadn’t had time to destroy the evidence yet.
All of a sudden, he felt an overwhelming thirst.
He walked to the jade pool. He was not wearing shoes or footwear, and his bare feet could directly feel the cool smoothness of the floor beneath his feet.
He also heard footsteps approaching from the hallway outside the hall.
………
As far as the eye could see, there was no sign of the young man in the hall.
Hen Zhen’s heart skipped two beats, and he strode forward in panic, his voice tense, “Xin Hexue?”
He hadn’t locked the palace doors, so naturally Xin Hexue could come and go as he pleased.
But that Zhou Shanheng was still locked in the water dungeon. Since the hostage was still in his hands, Xin Hexue shouldn’t have run away.
Or could it be…
Xin Hexue went to see that poor scholar again?
Just last night they were tangled together on the edge of life and death, and today he couldn’t wait to pour out his feelings to another man?
The moment this thought surfaced, it struck Hen Zhen like a bolt of lightning on a clear day, piercing straight through his heart.
Red surged in the snake pupils, and the emotions in his eyes rolled like stormy clouds ready to overturn heaven and earth.
Hen Zhen’s breathing grew heavier, his strong chest rose and fell, and his whole body was shrouded under thunderclouds.
There was a sound of splashing water, and waves rippled through the jade pool.
Hen Zhen’s eyes moved sluggishly until he finally shifted his gaze toward the hot spring jade pool.
He slowly walked forward, and met eyes with the butterfly koi in the pool.
Two white bubbles rose to the surface and popped.
Hen Zhen’s heart was beating faster and faster and he reached out his hand tentatively.
In the blink of an eye….
The butterfly koi transformed into a young man in a white robe. Seeing Hen Zhen’s inhuman features, his expression showed a bit of wariness, “Who are you?”
Hen Zhen’s smile widened at the corners of his mouth, “My dear, I’m your husband.”
Xin Hexue looked him over again, hesitating, “Husband? Really?”
Hen Zhen leaned in affectionately, guiding him to sit at the table, “How could something like that be fake?”
He guided Xin Hexue’s hand to his chest…it was firm, warm, with a strong, pounding heartbeat underneath.
Hen Zhen’s voice became low and soft, like pillow talk between a married couple, “You have a red mole under the tenth rib on your left side. If I weren’t your husband, how could I know that so clearly? My dear, you don’t remember what happened last night?”
Xin Hexue pursed his lips slightly.
Right then, a small demon came in trembling with fear and delivered breakfast. He knelt on the floor with arms raised high holding the bowls. “Master Dansheng, I…I didn’t hear anything!”
After saying this, the small demon almost bit off his tongue.
Hen Zhen’s face immediately darkened, a sudden shift like a brewing storm. He turned toward the outside of the hall, his tone cold as ice, “Bring it in, then get out.”
The small demon walked on eggshells. He set the food on the table, and fled in a hurry.
Hen Zhen looked back at Xin Hexue and raised his smile again. It was as if he was so used to malice that trying to appear gentle made him seem awkward, even his smile at the corners of his lips looked stiff.
“Hungry?”
“I had them make some congee.”
Demons didn’t actually need to eat, at least, that was the usual saying. In fact, it was because human food made from common grains had no benefit for demons, it was bland and useless.
But food made with dan herbs and spiritual medicine was different. Since dan herbs were bathed in the sun and moon, having absorbed the essence of heaven and earth, once cooked into food, they could directly supply demons with spiritual power.
Xin Hexue asked, “Your name is Dansheng?”
“Hen Zhen.” He answered just as he had the last time the young man asked, “My name is Hen Zhen.”
Xin Hexue glanced at the small demon retreating outside the hall.
“Then why did he call you Master Dansheng?”
Hen Zhen didn’t reveal much, only explained briefly, “I’m just temporarily living in this body.”
Xin Hexue lowered his lashes.
Astragalus, codonopsis, polished round-grain rice…
Just from the scent of the congee reaching his lips, Xin Hexue had already identified most of the ingredients.
Xin Hexue: “I can do it myself.”
He tried to take the spoon from Hen Zhen’s hand, but the other party showed no response at all and his attitude remained firm.
Xin Hexue: “…”
He could only eat from Hen Zhen feeding him.
There was also a touch of white sugar.
It was sweet congee.
A layer of congee oil coated Xin Hexue’s lips. Perhaps because Hen Zhen had kissed him too much last night, his once light pink lips now had a pomegranate-like translucent red.
Hen Zhen’s fingers tightened around the porcelain spoon, feeding spoon after spoon, until the bowl was nearly empty. “All done.”
Xin Hexue used a handkerchief to wipe the corner of his mouth.
The stronghold was unusually quiet, even the birdsong outside the rolled-up curtain had faded.
Hen Zhen frowned. The barrier and seal he had placed yesterday was quickly dissipating and breaking apart.
The monks from Taichu Temple had arrived.
Hen Zhen could sense that aura of magic wasn’t from Du Zhi, but from….
National Monk Liao Yi.
Hen Zhen stood up immediately. Though he was worried about Xin Hexue, the situation before them posed an even more urgent threat. “Someone has invaded the stronghold. Stay here and wait for me. I’ll return as quickly as I can, but if I don’t make it back in time and the flood waters reach the stronghold, leave immediately. I’ll come find you.”
In the past, Hen Zhen would’ve looked forward to running into that person.
Righteous and demonic paths were as incompatible as fire and water. The clash of joyful slaughter, blood and flesh flying in chaos…just picturing it would’ve stirred the battle lust and madness deep in Hen Zhen’s heart.
But now, he had someone he cared about more than life and death.
Precisely because of this person, he couldn’t die so easily.
Xin Hexue stood up and said, “Wait a moment.”
Hen Zhen pretended to be calm and raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Can’t bear to part with me?”
Xin Hexue paused, then met Hen Zhen’s gaze.
“…Husband.”
Hen Zhen’s expression went blank for a moment. “What?”
The young man’s long hair was unbound, and the dark strands fell freely. His hands felt cool and soft as they wrapped around Hen Zhen in a gentle embrace.
Hen Zhen clearly caught the cold fragrance from the young man, like snow and frost, with a faint astringency that brewed into an unusually alluring sweetness.
Xin Hexue let go of him, eyelashes lowered to hide his emotions. “Come back safely.”
Hen Zhen’s throat tightened. “…Mm.”
Xin Hexue watched the long shadow disappear at the end of the corridor.
His palm loosened. Xin Hexue turned his head slightly to look at the hand he had raised. From his middle finger dangled a key, swaying and gleaming with a metallic luster in the slits of sunlight, giving off a soft clinking sound.
The water dungeon key.
What a pity. Today wasn’t his amnesia day.
