Vоlume 1 Chарtеr 24: Тhеn Let Us Die Tоgеther
Thе red robе sliрреd dоwn, rеsting just abоvе Yаn Shi’s аrms, leaving his сhest expоsеd.
Thе соllаr оpеnеd in аn inverted triаnglе, revеaling a leаn and рowerful chеst. His whеat-tоnеd skin showed distinсt texture, with еight wеll-dеfinеd abdominаl musсlеs fоrming smooth linеs, while his wаistline disaрpeаred benеath the fabriс.
Аt а glanсе, he had broаd shouldеrs аnd a narrоw waist.
Hе loоkеd strоng.
His hаnds pressеd against thе grоund, slightlу propping him up as he lifted his nесk to look.
“What аrе you doing?” hе аsked, his voice dry and hoarse.
Yun Jiao felt her face flush and her heart race, the skin beneath her growing slightly warm. She pursed her lips and reached out to touch Yan Shi’s right earlobe.
There was a subtle raised scar—a small cut from a whip that had once split the earlobe, causing it to bleed profusely.
Yun Jiao gently pinched it.
Instantly, an indescribable tingling sensation rose from Yan Shi’s feet, spreading through his limbs and making his entire body tremble.
“Don’t,” he said, his trembling hand grasping the one that was teasing his earlobe.
His voice quivered at the end.
Yet, a strange sense of pleasure began to spread through him—inexplicable, even startling.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before, like a mysterious exploration.
He felt both excited and timid.
His earlobe gradually grew warm, as if on fire, and with each pinch of her fingertips, the flames burned brighter.
Yun Jiao stared intently for a moment, then placed one hand on his firm chest and slowly leaned down, bringing her lips close to his earlobe.
The comforting scent of orchids from her body drew nearer, and Yan Shi’s heartbeat grew louder, pounding in his ears.
She brushed past his cheek and stopped beside his ear, gently kissing his earlobe.
Yan Shi’s hands, propping him up behind, trembled slightly. He closed his eyes, his lashes quivering, as the restlessness he had felt while wiping her body earlier surged back.
He thought to himself, he must be beyond cure.
The corners of his eyes gradually turned crimson, and the vermilion mole beneath them shone with a bewitching brilliance, like a Deity awaiting desecration.
Yun Jiao spoke with a hint of heartache, “Does it hurt?”
“What?” Yan Shi was lost, drowning in the tenderness she had woven.
“Here, this scar, does it hurt?” Yun Jiao traced the scar with her fingernail.
Yan Shi let out a muffled groan as an even stronger tingling sensation seeped into his bones.
It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to.
But how had she discovered it?
Yan Shi didn’t want to recall those memories. He only wanted to stay with her, to remember this moment.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
Yun Jiao rested her chin on his shoulder, their skin touching, her arms wrapped around him, reaching to his back.
Yan Shi chuckled lightly, in high spirits. “Is this your way of apologizing to me?”
He loved it.
He loved her clinginess, her gentleness.
Though she was a bit too restless.
Those soft hands kept stroking his back, and he couldn’t bear it, wanting to pull down the mischievous hand.
“Little Sweetie, don’t tease me. It tickles.”
He curved his lips, gripping her wrist, when suddenly a question whispered in his ear, “Do these hurt?”
Yan Shi’s hand froze, his entire body stiffening, the smile on his lips halting.
In an instant, his world fell silent.
What followed was confusion, unease, panic—as if something was slowly crumbling.
The scars on his back crisscrossed like a tangled spiderweb, ugly and horrifying.
They weren’t just ugly—they were terrifying.
He felt lost, panicked, so much so that he only heard her say the words “these.”
She loved beauty.
She had seen them. She knew.
What was he to do?Gouge out her eyes so she can never see again, only remembering the beautiful things.
Or perhaps chop off her hands as well?
No, he couldn’t bear to.
These eyes were meant to look at him alone, these hands were meant to hold him.
Or maybe peel the skin off his back?
He lowered his gaze, his grip on Yun Jiao’s hand gradually tightening. In the unseen depths, madness flickered in his eyes.
The next moment, Yun Jiao’s hand was pulled down, and something cold was pressed into her palm.
It was a small dagger, its hilt embedded with crushed crystals—quite beautiful.
Yan Shi guided her hand, pressing the dagger against his shoulder. “It’s ugly, isn’t it? It can be peeled off.”
His expression even held a hint of anticipation, as if he were speaking of crafting a masterpiece.
“Peel it off, and it will be beautiful,” he whispered softly.
His eyes sparkled with scattered joy and expectation, as if peeling off his skin were a blessing, a rebirth.
A rebirth she would personally bestow upon him.
Then she and he would share even deeper bonds.
Yan Shi’s brows and eyes curved into crescent moons once more. “You’ll like it.”
He should have done this long ago. He would become beautiful. Just a little more force with her hand, and it would pierce the flesh.
Yan Shi slowly guided her hand to apply pressure. Yun Jiao struggled to pull back, but she was no match for his strength.
Yun Jiao grew frantic, her eyes reddening as she shouted, “I don’t like things covered in blood!”
Yan Shi’s hand froze instantly.
He looked up, bewildered. She didn’t like it?
Seizing his moment of distraction, Yun Jiao struggled, but his hand tightly enveloped hers, gripping the dagger.
Her eyes reddened as she said, “I like you as you are now.”
Hearing this, Yan Shi grew even more confused. “But the me now, my back isn’t beautiful.”
Why?
Why would she still like him?
Yun Jiao coaxed him, “Let’s throw the dagger away first, okay?”
It looked far too sharp.
Without hesitation, Yan Shi shook his head. “No.”
As if he still intended to use the dagger to peel his skin, Yun Jiao grew so angry she bit his hand.
Yan Shi shuddered all over, involuntarily loosening his grip. His hand relaxed, and Yun Jiao flung the dagger away, sending it arcing through the air.
Her eyes, red with anger, glared at Yan Shi. “I don’t like you when you’re bleeding, not at all! I hate you when you’re bleeding!”
The word “hate” struck Yan Shi’s ears like two claps of thunder.
For reasons unknown, Yun Jiao’s eyes began to sting. Visions flashed before her—him standing up, covered in blood from whip lashes; him pinned to the altar by a log as thick as an arm.
She burst into sobs. “If you shed even one more drop of blood, I’ll never like you again!”
“I don’t think the scars on your back are ugly. I just feel heartbroken—why did my Prince have to endure such pain?”
“Why… sob…”
Plop.
Large, unreasonable teardrops fell onto his firm abdominal muscles. Yan Shi’s heart was in turmoil, unable to articulate why it felt so chaotic.
But she said she hated him when he bled, she said her heart ached for him.
She also said, “my Prince.”
Tears quickly pooled into a wet patch on his abdomen.
Yan Shi didn’t pull her into his embrace as he had before. He lowered his gaze, lost in thought for a long time, listening as her sobs grew hoarse.
“Do you like me?” he asked, looking up at her.
Without hesitation, Yun Jiao met his gaze with clear, moist eyes. “I like the Prince.”
“How much?”
“Very much.””I really like…” Yan Shi let out a few soft, low chuckles.
“Then let’s die together. I want to die with Jiao Jiao, to melt you into my bones and blood, to have our ashes mingled, to descend into hell together, to be together forever.”