It was getting late. For an omega to stay out all night was a bit outrageous, even with exceptional martial prowess, so after ensuring Xiao Muyi unblocked him, Yin Sangyu prepared to say goodbye.
But before leaving, he asked Xiao Muyi for another hug, slipping the golden unicorn badge into his pocket during the brief closeness.
Whether Xiao Muyi used it was up to him, but Yin Sangyu, having spent 100 points to get it, wasn’t about to take it back.
The next day, Yin Sangyu rose, spiritless, sitting on the bed for a while before his gaze cleared.
His haggard state was due to another headache last night.
Unable to fathom what Xiao Muyi could’ve done in the short time after they parted, full of doubts, Yin Sangyu immediately used his restored communication to message Xiao Muyi, feigning concern about whether Li Ziyi troubled him, but probing in truth.
He sent seven or eight messages, but Xiao Muyi gave no response.
Near noon, Xiao Muyi finally replied belatedly. He thanked Yin Sangyu, saying he used the golden unicorn badge. His father and brother, after seeing it, didn’t trouble him further, warning him not to slip up.
But the badge was taken by his father, unlikely to be returned soon, for which Xiao Muyi deeply apologized.
The badge held no real power, meaningful only in its true owner’s hands; otherwise, it was just a dead object to intimidate. Li Huaien likely kept it to prevent its owner from reclaiming it.
Yin Sangyu didn’t dwell on it, casually telling Xiao Muyi not to worry about returning it, then subtly probing what he did after parting last night. But the villain’s mouth was tight as a river clam, utterly leak-proof.
Unable to get answers, Yin Sangyu turned sly, coaxing Xiao Muyi to read good-deed storybooks, intent on catching up on missed sessions.
Xiao Muyi, indulgent as always, rarely refused, saying he was busy during the day and inconvenient, pushing it to evening.
After agreeing, Yin Sangyu left him alone, passing time with phone news, which went quickly.
As dusk approached, the Li family report from the underground trading network arrived punctually.
Yin Sangyu lounged on the sofa, legs crossed casually, one hand propping his head, the other holding printed documents, skimming listlessly with rapid glances, reaching the last page quickly.
Expecting useless information, he was surprised to see Xiao Muyi’s name, prompting a serious look.
The report stated: Due to the Li family’s adopted son Xiao Muyi deliberately seducing a female alpha, causing trouble, his brother Li Ziyi and friends were severely injured.
Li Ziyi suffered the worst: head and body injuries, three broken ribs, mild concussion, and severe bruising and swelling from a harsh blow to his lower parts, now hospitalized, with possible lasting effects.
Li Huaien, enraged by the news, whipped Xiao Muyi and threw him into the punishment dark room, filing a case with the enforcement team to catch the assailant for his son’s revenge.
Yin Sangyu’s expression turned subtle, finally understanding his headache’s cause. He sipped cold water to calm his shock.
He was certain he hadn’t hit Li Ziyi that hard. Though an alpha, Li Ziyi was frail from childhood, weak and fragile. Yin Sangyu, not aiming to kill, was careful.
As for vicious moves like striking below, he couldn’t do it. Of Li Ziyi’s injuries, Yin Sangyu only admitted to the concussion and bruising.
The rest, without question, was Xiao Muyi’s retaliation. In the novel, he loved destroying people’s “dignity.”
Li Ziyi got what he deserved, losing half his life was lucky. Whether that part would function again was uncertain; if ruined, he’d wish for death.
Moreover, the report revealed more than Xiao Muyi’s vicious attack on Li Ziyi after Yin Sangyu left.
There was deception.
If Xiao Muyi had given the golden unicorn badge to Li Huaien, fearing trouble from an unknown VIP, Li Huaien would’ve quietly swallowed the loss, suppressing the matter.
Li Huaien’s filing a case meant Xiao Muyi hid the badge.
Yin Sangyu was puzzled. He gave Xiao Muyi the badge to lessen his suffering and protect his reputation.
But at the Wang residence’s back courtyard, beaten half-dead, and with everyone at the funeral knowing he “seduced an alpha,” causing his brother’s hospitalization, Li Huaien, for face, wouldn’t spread it, but in small circles, Xiao Muyi would be a laughingstock, worsening his already tough life. It wasn’t worth it.
Xiao Muyi’s daytime “busyness” was likely getting beaten.
Glancing at the wall clock, it was fully dark, time for their appointment.
Unsure if Xiao Muyi, locked in the dark room, had his phone, Yin Sangyu tested with a message.
Flying Little Rabbit: Muyi, are you done? Can you read to me now?
He held his phone, waiting.
About two minutes later, Xiao Muyi replied.
Black: Sorry for the wait. I’ll read to you now.
Black: But I might have a cold, my voice is hoarse. You might not like it.
Still able to type coherently, his beating wasn’t too severe. Yin Sangyu replied: No problem, I like anything you read.
Xiao Muyi opened a voice call, reading the story Yin Sangyu sent word by word in a steady voice. Though his emotional delivery was off for characters’ dialogue, well-timed pauses added flavor, uniquely charming.
But, as he said, his voice was low and hoarse today.
Soon, his breathing grew erratic, words slurring, as if exhausted, speaking taking most of his strength, like he’d fall asleep any second.
Yin Sangyu’s brow tightened, recalling last night in the shadowed corner, holding Xiao Muyi from behind.
Xiao Muyi’s slender frame radiated heat, skin beading with sweat, not sweaty but an oddly pleasant fruity scent. His body, soft and weak, trembled lightly, biting his bleeding lip to stifle sounds, yet leaking fragile pleas when overwhelmed.
Though Yin Sangyu restrained himself, he couldn’t help wanting to push further, and further still.
Ignoring Xiao Muyi’s villainy, he was inherently frail and fragile, his overly pale skin easily marked, voice soft and delicate. A bit of firmness made him yield, curling up excessively obediently.
Born to an ordinary family with loving parents, he’d be cherished, shielded from harm.
Yet now, Xiao Muyi lay battered in a cold, lightless dark room, forcing himself to meet others’ demands.
Though his intentions weren’t pure, his weakness and compliance mere facades, living by them was tragic enough.
Hearing Xiao Muyi’s unceasing reading, Yin Sangyu’s mood grew complex. He asked the system, “Xiao Muyi’s badly hurt. Won’t he die like this?”
System: [Villain’s life value remains in the safe range.]
Slightly relieved, Yin Sangyu asked, “Is there a way to make him feel better?”
System: [[Mother’s Blessing]: Intangible, heals remotely, 5,000 points.]
[Current points: 12,032. Confirm exchange?]
The number seemed off. Yin Sangyu paused, “Wait, shouldn’t it be just over 2,000? Why an extra 10,000?”
System: [[Villain’s Plea: 3,000 points]
[First Intimate Contact with Villain: 5,000 points]
[Villain’s Shame: 2,000 points]
[Notified yesterday, but you were busy, Host, and may not have heard.]
The task names explained it. He was indeed busy then. Slightly embarrassed, Yin Sangyu glanced aside, “Confirm exchange, but don’t heal him fully—do it gradually.” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
System: [Exchange successful]
About three minutes after the exchange, Xiao Muyi’s reading stopped abruptly, falling silent.
Guessing he noticed changes in his body, Yin Sangyu didn’t mind, refraining from messaging to give him time to adjust.
But the next second, Xiao Muyi called out uncertainly, “Ling… Lingling?”
Puzzled why Xiao Muyi called him, Yin Sangyu messaged: Muyi, what’s wrong? Why’d you stop?
But Xiao Muyi, as if not seeing the message, continued in shock, “Why are you here?”
Blinking, Yin Sangyu sensed something wrong, asking the system, “What’s happening? What did Xiao Muyi see?”
System: [No need for surprise, Host. [Mother’s Blessing] is healing energy formed as the exchanger’s female image, gently touching and hugging the recipient for healing, as stated in the item description.]
Yin Sangyu gasped, stunned.
From the phone, Xiao Muyi’s voice kept coming.
“Wait! Lingling, what are you doing? How’d you get in?”
“Don’t… don’t hug me suddenly, I’m filthy!”
“Don’t touch! Ngh… ah!”
After a suggestive yelp, the phone went quiet, followed by rustling fabric. After a long pause, Xiao Muyi’s trembling voice called, “Lingling?”
Yin Sangyu couldn’t imagine the explosive scene. His face shifted, mechanically typing: I’m here.
A ‘ding’ signaled the message. Silence followed for half a minute before Xiao Muyi cut the voice call, soon replying by text.
Black: My cold seems worse. I hallucinated earlier. Sorry, did I scare you?
Such astonishing mental resilience and reaction speed.
Yin Sangyu tiredly rubbed his face. Anyone else facing such a supernatural, eerie event might’ve screamed about ghosts. Xiao Muyi adapted in moments, crafting excuses.
With things as they were, Yin Sangyu played ignorant.
Flying Little Rabbit: You shouting my name did scare me.
Flying Little Rabbit: If your cold’s that bad, say so earlier. I can hear stories anytime. Rest, and don’t forget your medicine.
Black: Sorry, I’ll sleep then. Goodnight.
The chat ended. Yin Sangyu set down his phone, sitting still for a long time, then sighed lightly, saying in a ‘nice weather today’ tone, “System, you really deserve to die.”
System: […]
The item description was clear, yet the Host didn’t read it and blamed the system. Aggrieved, it stayed silent.
In the dark room, Xiao Muyi was held by a thing glowing pale green, with a loving face resembling Zhu Ling’s, embracing him without consent.
After struggling and finding he couldn’t harm the woman, he quieted, letting her gently touch his wounds.
That night, Xiao Muyi stayed in her arms, gazing at “Zhu Ling’s” face, eyes deepening, sleepless.