To kill those who had come to hijack the carriage, Gu Xingzhi had long ago discarded his gloves, covered the perpetrators' mouths and noses, and snapped their necks. However, he inadvertently fell from the carriage and injured his leg.
He limped along until he found an abandoned, ruined courtyard to endure the day in, hoping to return to his noble status as the Heir of the Marquis of Beiding once his guards located him tomorrow. He did not expect the old poison in his body to flare up again, causing him to lose consciousness in the midst of the yard.
Normally, he should have awakened on the ground, soaked by the night's morning dew. Instead, he first heard the dawn crow of a rooster, followed by the soft sound of a woman’s breathing near his ear.
He lay on hard, dry wooden planks, a supple body lying on top of him.
It felt like a woman, one who seemed to have very little flesh on her bones.
Turning quietly downward, he wondered if he was still dreaming. But the icy tip of her nose was like a drop of dew condensed from a leaf in the early morning, mischievously sliding down his skin and rubbing against the hollow of his neck.
Such a realistic sensation suggested this was no dream. He pondered, dazed.
“Mm…” Her nose brushed his Adam's apple. He couldn't help but frown and let out a faint groan, but the person atop him seemed not to notice, Continuing to press her face against him and inhale.
Her meager breasts were flattened against him like discs. Indifferent to modesty or the propriety between men and women, she gradually pressed her slightly damp lips against his collarbone and licked him.
Gu Xingzhi had never been touched in such a manner. As wet slickness radiated from the spot where she had kissed him, his body gradually tensed.
Realizing she had touched something, the woman on top of him pushed up, her voice strained with shock. “You’re awake?”
Gu Xingzhi did not understand what she meant by "awake," because his eyes were open; however, they were tightly covered by a makeshift blindfold, leaving him in total darkness.
It seemed she was not addressing him.
A heavy slap landed across his face; her soft voice now carried an edge of unkindness. “What kind of thing are you? Xiaobai would never do this.”
An unfamiliar name, an unfamiliar woman, and an unfamiliar slap.
Gu Xingzhi remained silent, his lips pressed together. Beneath the white silk of the blindfold, his pale face began to redden.
Fortunately, she seemed to have smelled enough. She propped herself up with her hands on his shoulders and rose.
She did not leave, but remained seated beside him, observing him as if waiting for him to be fully conscious.
After a moment of silence, Gu Xingzhi asked, “Who are you?”
Newly awake, his voice was as scratchy as sandpaper, yet nonetheless warm, underlaid with a chilling detachment.
“So you really are awake.”
He heard her laugh. Her soft voice had a slight regional accent in its nasal tones.
“You don’t need to know who I am. You only need to know that I saved you, and now you must repay me.”
Xue Ling stared at his face, her jealousy deepening as she looked.
He had indeed been raised amidst sumptuous jewelry and finery; even lying on a dilapidated bed, bedridden and forsaken in a building so rotten that insects had bored holes through the pillars, he possessed a singular, ethereal coldness. He looked like a meticulously carved jade statue; one might feel that touching him would be to defile him.
They were both human, yet why did he possess such exalted nobility while she could only crouch on the ground, waiting for him to decide her life or death from his height?
It was simply too unfair.
Seeing that he kept silent, Xue Ling frowned and pushed his shoulder. “Do you hear me?”
He had leg injuries from his fall; she did not know her own strength, and her finger happened to press directly onto a wound. Gu Xingzhi let out a faint moan. “It hurts.”
Prior to this encounter, Xue Ling had been an honest person who harbored her hatred of the wealthy only in secret. No matter how much she envied the rich, she merely let the feeling release her hostilities in private; she had never actually harmed anyone.
Hearing his faint cry of pain, she reflexively withdrew her hand.
He seemed to smile faintly.
Gu Xingzhi knew he possessed a stunning countenance. With his deep-set eyes and thick eyelashes, his smile carried a gentle, mild beauty reminiscent of a spring breeze. Both men and women were easily drawn to him, often falling into inappropriate or ill-timed infatuation.
Because he also knew exactly how to utilize his good looks, Xue Ling—who had seen the most beautiful people through her schoolteacher—found her gaze drawn to his face, her eyes filled with amazement.
“Could you step down, Miss?” He raised his sharp, knife-carved chin, his thin red lips curving; through the cloth blindfold, he seemed to gaze at her with soft warmth. “I wish to speak with you.”
Dazzled by his face, Xue Ling obediently leaned down.
As she drew near, she caught the faint, clear fragrance wafting from his slightly open collar.
It was not the scent of rouges sold at street stalls or the fashionable osmanthus pomade; it was subtle, with an underlying bitterness of a medicinal herb. As she breathed it in unguardedly, her throat felt inexplicably parched.
She couldn’t identify what the scent was, but she knew it was expensive.
He smelled like someone immensely wealthy; even his body scent cost more than she could ever afford.
That realization ignited a spark of envy in Xue Ling.
Why? Why was it that both of them were human, yet he was allowed such luxuries while she couldn’t even afford osmanthus hair oil?
Lost in her indignation, she was abruptly pulled back to reality by her own emotion. She straightened up, pushed her hand away from his neck, and said furiously, “Who gave you permission to make requests of me? You are the one who must repay me. Don't try to deceive me with smooth talk.”
At the woman's indignation, the warm smile vanished from Gu Xingzhi’s face. There was a trace of regret, but he lay lazily, his hand half-clenched in a claw-like gesture, inches from her throat.
Almost, he had killed her.
Turning his head toward her, he spoke in an indifferent tone, as if granting an audience to a beggar. “How does the young lady wish me to thank her? Gold, jewelry, or perhaps the deeds to fertile lands and houses?”
As the Heir of the Marquis of Beiding, he could easily summon endless riches or even arrange for her to become an official lady-in-waiting in the palace.
But Xue Ling detested that high-and-mighty air. To her, it implied that she of all people should be kneeling on the ground, grateful for even the privilege of polishing his boots.
Her hatred curdled; she declared bitterly, “My dog, Xiaobai, died because of you.”
A dog? So the name she had called out earlier was the name of a dog.
Gu Xingzhi’s expression remained unchanged. He said gently, “Then I shall compensate you with another dog in its place…”
“Good,” Xue Ling interrupted, eager to specify. “My Xiaobai was a white dog. He stayed by my side…”
She hesitated, and then asked abruptly, “How old are you?”
“I have just turned twenty.”
“Perfect!” Xue Ling’s eyes lit up, and she said excitedly, “My dog was with me for twenty years. Look—he has a red mole here, and his collarbones are deep. They protrude like this.”
She reached out and touched several places on his body, her description uncanny in its accuracy, including his anatomy.
She wasn’t describing a dog at all; she was describing him.
Fixing her gaze on him, Xue Ling said solemnly, “You must replace him with a dog exactly like him. Exactly the same.”
Gu Xingzhi raised an eyebrow. “You mean… that your dog looked exactly like me?”
Xue Ling nodded. “Yes.”
“If you release me and remove this blindfold,” he stated firmly, “I will find you a dog exactly like him.”
“No.” Xue Ling refused. “I want you.”
“But I am a human being.” He spoke in a soft, soothing cadence. Despite lying on a wretched bed in a dilapidated shack, the thin shafts of golden morning sunlight filtering through the rotted roof rendered him sacred and ethereal, as if he had been created by a master artist.
Xue Ling hated such pure, untouched beauty.
“No,” she said, her voice becoming dark and sharp, each word deliberate. “I want you to be my dog. You killed my Xiaobai, so it is only right that you take his place. You saved your own life, and for that, you owe it to me.”
“Repaying a life-saving debt with one’s own body is a misconception,” he began to explain. “Furthermore, I am a man.”
“I don’t care about that.” Suddenly enraged, Xue Ling mounted him, straddling his waist, and pressed her hand over his lips to silence him.
A stray strand of her ragged, yellowish-brown hair fell between his deep collarbones. As she leaned down, her warm breath brushed against his skin, making his neck prickle.
Gu Xingzhi ceased speaking and waited to hear her out.
“I know your kind,” Xue Ling said, “have read more books since birth than I’ll be able to eat grains of rice in all my life. But right now, you only have two choices.”
“First, I throw you out. This area is deserted, and at night there are wild beasts scavenging. You won’t survive long; there won’t even be bones left of you.”
“Second choice: you become my dog. I will take care of you and feed you, but in return, you must be obedient.”
This was the first time Xue Ling had ever tried to threaten anyone. Her voice trembled, but her eyes were fixed in earnest determination; she meant every word.
She truly wanted to raise him as a dog.
The feeling of a woman straddling him stirred a wave of nausea in Gu Xingzhi’s gut. He tried to suppress it, his brow furrowing as he asked, “Miss, if you wish to keep a dog, are you aware of who I am?”
“I don’t know,” Xue Ling said flatly, shaking her head. “Regardless of whether you’re the Emperor or a prince, your choices are the same.”
She was not intimidated by power or status; all she wanted was a companion to replace what she had lost.
Gu Xingzhi’s eyelashes fluttered beneath the blindfold.
Seeing his hesitant expression, Xue Ling gripped his chin, lifting it up. “Have you decided? You know your leg is injured—you can’t walk. Your elbow is hurt too, so you can probably only use one hand.”
Forced to look up at her, Gu Xingzhi’s long hair tangled around him, yet he still managed to lift his lips into a thin, amused smile. “You are very observant, Miss.”
Xue Ling scoffed. It wasn’t just observation—it was what she had seen when he first passed out.
Moreover, if he were unharmed, he would have fought her off the moment he woke up and fled. He was lying here, manning a feeble facade and playing along because he was physically weakened.
“Well? What do you choose?” she asked impatiently; she wanted an answer now.
Gu Xingzhi tilted his head against her fingers and said calmly, “What you say is not impossible. But I must have a time limit.”
Taken aback, Xue Ling considered carefully. “I’ll let you go once I find a new dog.”
In any case, Gu Xingzhi was a human being. He couldn’t stay forever the way Xiaobai had. Even so, she still wanted a white dog that looked just like him.
A cynical twist touched Gu Xingzhi’s lips. “Very well.”
With his agreement, Xue Ling’s face lit up. She pulled him toward her, hugging him tightly. “Xiaobai…”
She was thin and fragile, but nonetheless a woman. Controlling her emotions, she smothered her face against his chest, her softness pressing into him.
Caught off guard, Gu Xingzhi found himself engulfed by her. The bridge of his nose was pressed flat against her, but Xue Ling seemingly didn’t notice; she held him tight, perhaps sensing his presence but no longer treating him as a person.
“Xiaobai,” she murmured in his ear, her voice muffled against his skin. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t take care of you properly… I’ll heal your wounds, but you have to be a good boy. Don’t run off again.”
Gu Xingzhi, never having been a dog, remained stiffly motionless as she embraced him, his eyebrows furrowed.
But Xue Ling had no intention of staying with a mere hug.
She shifted, her body pressing even closer as her lips grazed his pale jawline. “Xiaobai… you smell so good. You’re so warm.”
Her hot breath and ἡeavy press against him caused Gu Xingzhi’s skin to burn; his fingers twitched as he tried to push her away.
His unique constitution meant his body naturally exuded a clear, alluring fragrance—the enticing smell that had attracted people throughout his life. He had learned to conceal all but his face under clothing to avoid unwanted attention.
Caught now in such intimate proximity, the scent spilled forth unchecked. He could feel it emanating from his own skin, intoxicating the woman above him.
He could tell her nostrils were flaring as she inhaled and inhaled. “What a wonderful smell,” she murmured, her tone languid with satisfaction.
The legendary alluring fragrance. Those who caught the scent became irrationally obsessed, seeing him not as a man but as a treasure to be possessed.
Xue Ling cached her breath; to her, this was the most fragrant thing in the world. And it belonged to her dog.
“You smell like incense mixed with raw pearls,” she said, her voice thickening.
Guoxinghou’s son stiffened, his body rejecting her closeness. But as she nuzzled against him, her lips brushed against his ear. “If you caused Xiaobai to die, then you have to be his master, right?”
Her heat seeped through his garments. As she breathed on his neck, he shrunk back. “Miss—"
“Xiaobai,” she whispered, her small hand reaching up to brush his hair aside, searching for his ear.
Gu Xingzhi yanked his head away. It was theEar-Kneeding, a particular movement intended to cause pleasure. He had never encountered it, but the predatory instinct in her made it evident.
She shifted her weight, her firm body settling between his legs. The friction made him gasp.
“I’ll hve to train you,” Xue Ling murmured. “First, I’ll teach you how to call me your master.”
She bent forward, her hair cascading over his shoulders as she pressed a kiss onto his hand then his wrist. The insistence of her lips suggested something deep and uncontrollable. “Xiaobai?”
Gu Xingzhi was speechless. Being called a dog was one thing, but to be coerced into obedience without even knowing who held the chain—
Xue Ling rubbed her face against his chest, giggling like a child. Her joy contrasted with the धार of jealousy he felt radiate off her.
He shut his eyes, resigned to his plight, knowing that as long as the blindfold remained, he was her captive.
“Repay me,” Xue Ling whispered against his shoulder. “Repay me with your body.”
Xue Ling seemed to sense his attempt to raise his arm and push her away; suddenly, she propped her knee up over his arm, her tone like that of someone lecturing an incorrigible dog: “Be good. Don’t move.”
Gu Xingzhi remained silent, his lips pressed together. He lay motionless on the couch, appearing as if he were something sacrosanct, yet simultaneously evoking a wretched, captivating air.
Finally, she calmed down.
Xue Ling buried her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling wildly.
It smelled so good.
She didn’t know what this fragrance was, but the more she smelled it, the faster her heart raced. It was as if tongues of fire were licking at her body; unable to help herself, she pressed her face deeper, her lips brushed against his neck, and she began to pant shallowly.
Though her features were pale and somber, her voice was naturally, uncannily soft.
Unable to draw enough breath, she let out a faint, sharp moan, as if she were in the throes of some intense activity, her voice carrying an odd urgency.
A whining sound.
Hot, moist breath poured ceaselessly over him; Gu Xingzhi felt an absurd numbness creep through his entire body.
He could not discern if it was pleasure or distress, but this proximity—this breathless panting—made him want to reach out and snap her neck or fling his head back to avoid such an excessively intimate rubbing.
Xue Ling did not do it intentionally; it was simply that she loved the scent of him too much. She felt she could never have enough.
But as she rubbed and inhaled, she became damp with a thin film of sweat, her body turning soft and limp. Meanwhile, he remained stiff beneath her, making it uncomfortable for her.
Was it because of his clothes?
If she undid his waist sash, would she be able to smell even more?
Pressing against his neck, Xue Ling felt her mouth grow dry. A faint blush of unsatisfied longing rose to her cheeks, and her hands instinctively grasped at the sash around his waist, attempting to untie it.
She had never had anything of high quality; she had no idea how to undo such a complicated fold. After rummaging at it for a while, she caused the young man’s breathing to deepen. His voice grew hoarse as he spoke up to stop her: “What are you trying to do?”
In that moment, Xue Ling could not hear him. Lost in him, completely enthralled, she failed to notice how cold his gaze had become.
The complex sash was soon yanked into disarray, and in her daze, she caught sight of something.
How ugly.
Xue Ling lifted her small, snow-white face. The tip of her nose was flushed red, and she gave him a sidelong look through moisture-bright eyes.
The young man had a broad frame. His already-disordered robes had fallen farther open, exposing a wide expanse of pale chest, while a certain part of him pressed against the thin fabric in an involuntary reaction.
The lower half of his face, visible beneath the blindfold, was flushed. The lips that had held a smile ever since he woke were now pressed tightly together, as though all her rubbing against him had finally irritated him.
He looked strangely pitiful, as though he were the one being bullied.
However…although his face was handsome, he hid such an ugly thing beneath his clothes.
Xue Ling rose with an expression of profound disdain and gave him a light kick. “What an ugly thing. One of these days, I’ll find a doctor and learn how to neuter you.”
This was something she ought to take care of. If he wasn't neutered, he'd be running around driven by his urges.
As the heir of the Marquis of Beiding, Gu Xingzhi had been loved and obsessed over by countless people throughout the years. Some had even killed one another just for the chance to win his attention. He had never imagined that someone would blindfold him and humiliate him through such a degrading act.
In that brief, strange moment, his body instinctively arched into a graceful curve. He turned his head and buried half of his pale, handsome face in the pillow, while his loose, raven-black hair spilled over it. The exposed side of his neck and chest were tinged with a strange flush.
As his entire body trembled beneath her foot, he thought:
I will kill her.I will burn this place to the ground.