“The Immortal is certainly difficult to find.”
Hearing this, the person on the suspension bridge opened his eyes. He slowly propped up his upper body, causing the bridge to sway from side to side in a manner that made Xiao Feng’s heart leap into his throat.
The light among the cliffs was exceedingly dim, yet the pair of clear, limpid eyes belonging to the youth shone with astonishing brilliance. Especially as fireworks burst across the distant sky, their dazzling fiery glow mirrored within his gaze, Xiao Feng stood there in a daze, the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in tandem with the fireworks.
Looking at the man at the edge of the bridge, Shen Zaixin tilted his head slightly, offering a lazy, mocking smile: “What, are you afraid of falling down together with me?”
“Hah.” Xiao Feng let out a scoff. During all his years wandering as a rogue immortal, what deep dragon pools or hazardous tiger dens had he not braved alone? If not for his fear of something happening to that youth, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a single second.
The young man stepped onto the swaying suspension bridge, every stride he took exceptionally steady. Yet the exact moment he crouched down before the youth, the final supporting rope snapped abruptly in two!
He swiftly wrapped an arm around the youth’s waist, and the two of them plunged together into the depths of the cliffside abyss in a tight embrace.
The wind whistled past, and a mess of stray locks blurred his vision. Xiao Feng vaguely caught sight of the pleased curve at the corners of the other’s lips, causing the corners of his own mouth to curve upward in response.
Splash!
Water spray scattered in all directions as scarlet blood spread through the silent pool. Red and black robes intertwined as they shared a kiss beneath the water.
The man’s muscular arms imprisoned the Immortal’s slender waist, his fingertips sliding into the youth’s hair to gently massage his scalp. The Immortal possessed profound cultivation and permitted him to pillage every breath from between his lips.
The hands resting against his chest seemed to push him away in rejection, but Xiao Feng forcefully grabbed that soft, snowy wrist and pressed it against his own waist. His eager, aggressive demeanor resembled a greedy bandit, plundering all the sweetness within the Immortal’s mouth without a care in the world, refusing to stop even when his tongue was bit playfully and viciously by the youth’s teeth.
The metallic taste of iron bloomed between their lips. Shen Zaixin exerted force with his hand resting on the man’s waist and gave a sharp twist. Wincing in pain, the man finally parted from his lips with lingering reluctance, and the two of them broke the surface of the water.
The Immortal leaned lazily against the reef behind him, the water rising just to his waist. His soaked garments clung tightly to his physique, outlining his exquisite curves. Tilting his head back slightly, his gaze carried a lazy, languid arrogance, while the flushed tips of his eyes radiated an unbounded, dazzling allure.
Sensing the man’s imperceptible trembling, he let out a scoff: “What, did the fall hurt?”
“It does hurt somewhat.”
When they leaped down from the broken bridge just then, having soft jade in his arms had made him momentarily forget that both of them were cultivators of considerable prowess. Xiao Feng had deliberately used his own body to cushion the youth’s fall, and under the sudden collision against the reef and waves, his back was already a mess of bruises and scrapes.
Ever since he began cultivating, he had never suffered a fall like this. Yet at this moment, looking at the brilliant, smiling face of the person in his arms, he found himself willingly experiencing a foolish devotion akin to the kings of old burning beacon towers just to win a smile.
A carefree rogue immortal had ultimately sunk into the depths of love and desire, bowing down as a captive beneath his skirts.
“The Immortal has no pity for me at all.”
Shen Zaixin chuckled softly, lifting his eyelids to cast a sideways glance at him: “An Immortal only pities obedient dogs. Vicious mutts like Daoist Xiao, thick-skinned and full of rebellious bones, are nothing more than ungrateful wild wolves.”
“Didn’t the Immortal know? A vicious hound growing rebellious bones is merely meant to catch the Immortal’s attention.” Xiao Feng braced his hands on either side of the Immortal, his lips shifting slowly downward from the youth’s jade-white forehead, his tongue tracing over the curled, long eyelashes. His gaze burned with a fanatical obsession and a dark, beast-like obscurity: “Would you like to try what it feels like to snap those rebellious bones?”
Hot breath scorched his ear as the man planted kiss after kiss across his face in a daze. Yet Shen Zaixin’s gaze remained utterly detached throughout, devoid of the slightest ripple or fluctuation, coldly watching the man drown himself within a web of lingering intimacy.
After a brief silence, Shen Zaixin abruptly pushed the man away, speaking indifferently: “I’m a bit cold.”
With that, he withdrew his hand, pulled himself out of the water pool onto the bank, and stepped ashore. The stunning curve of his figure caused a fresh surge of heat to pool in Xiao Feng’s lower abdomen. He let out a helpless sigh, forcing himself to calm down amidst the chilly water.
He couldn’t help thinking that the Immortal looked rather slender, yet he had kept him soaking in this cold pool for quite a long time without showing a shred of consideration, no wonder the Immortal had chosen to leave him behind here.
By the time he climbed out of the water, the person had already vanished without a trace, leaving behind not a shred of lingering reluctance.
Xiao Feng was completely drenched, water still dripping from the hem of his robes, but he had no leisure to care. Reaching frantically into his robes, he fished out the water-logged red silk and brought it to his nose. The residual subtle fragrance had long since been completely washed away by the pool water. A pair of deep, falcon-like eyes flashed with frustration; he really should have tucked the red silk away into his storage ring beforehand.
The aura remaining on the red silk was faint. By the time he finally tracked the person down, the distant fireworks had all ceased, leaving only the everlasting lanterns burning brightly, drifting endlessly with the wind across the sky.
The silent river surface was covered in illusions shaped like blooming lotus flowers. The red-robed Immortal lay sideways upon a small skiff, propping his head up with the knuckles of his right hand slightly curved, while fluorescent lights flickered and danced around the fingertips of his left hand. For a fleeting moment, it was impossible to tell whether the blooming lotuses or the Immortal himself constituted the illusory scenery.
The soft crunch of footsteps rang out with crystalline clarity in the quiet valley. Shen Zaixin raised his eyelids to look at the bedraggled man standing upon the riverbank, issuing a lazy command: “Come here.”
A dark shadow skimmed across the river surface, and the small skiff rocked instantly, sinking several inches lower under the man’s weight. The surrounding illusionary lotus leaves and buds suddenly multiplied, enclosing the two figures upon the boat as if they were dallying in secret amidst a dense cluster of field lotuses.
Lowering his gaze, Xiao Feng stared fixedly at the jade-white bare feet that had long since kicked off their shoes and socks. Under the moonlight, the Immortal’s delicate ankles appeared coated in a layer of pristine silver radiance, reflecting the shimmering ripples of the water with a glossy, translucent sheen. His round, pink-tinted toes were so alluring they made the man’s canine teeth itch with restlessness.
The man’s gaze darkened, his Adam’s apple moving in an imperceptible swallow.
The snow-white bare feet pressed hot against his thighs. Due to the youth’s movements, the parting of his red robes revealed yet another stretch of snowy calf, dazzling Xiao Feng’s vision. The Immortal’s smiling voice by his ear was more intoxicating than peach blossom wine: “Didn’t you say you wanted to dally in secret with me?”
A faint sound seemed to snap within the recesses of his mind. Xiao Feng froze for a moment, it was the sound of his last shred of reason shattering entirely.
He could no longer see a thing. Ignoring the scenic beauty of the river lotuses blooming all around him, his falcon-deep eyes held only that single person, drawn deep into his vision and sealed away within his heart.
“Immortal…” he rasped out hoarsely.
Shen Zaixin let out a soft laugh, raising his chin slightly to look down at him from the corner of his eye: “Still calling me Immortal?”
Xiao Feng fell silent for a moment before his tall figure slowly leaned forward, completely enveloping the youth’s slender frame. Whispering a few soft murmurs against the other’s ear, he successfully drew peals of delighted, carefree laughter from the Immortal that sounded far more intoxicating than the moonlight itself.
Ripples spread outward from the center of the lotus cluster, continuing without pause through the entire span of the night.
When Xiao Feng opened his eyes the following day, the person in his arms had already vanished without a trace. The river surface was entirely empty, save for the bruised purple marks peeking out from beneath the red silk tied around his own neck, proving that everything from the previous night was far from a magnificent, alluring dream.
Untying the red silk, he once again cast a tracking spell utilizing the residual aura left behind by the youth. No matter how many times he tried, the direction indicated by his spiritual power unfailingly pointed toward the Demon Palace. He couldn’t help letting out a wry chuckle; this truly was no different from illicitly dallying in secret.
The Demon Palace.
Pushing open the palace doors, Shen Zaixin stepped inside to find the dim, flickering glow of candles casting shadows near the window. A tall, dark crimson figure was seated by the window sill, propping his head up with an arm as if half-asleep. The orange-red firelight played across his sharp, aggressive profile, softening the deep, icy edges of his brow.
The scene bore an uncanny resemblance to the past back at the Azure Sky Palace, when the Qingrong Immortal would wait late into the night for his junior brother to return.
The creak of the doors closing startled the man resting with closed eyes. Ning Wuchen opened them slowly, gazing at the person walking toward him with warmth welling up in his gaze: “Changning, you—”
The gentle murmur cut off abruptly the moment his eyes landed upon the mottled hickeys scattered across the youth’s neck.
Shen Zaixin could clearly perceive the sudden, violent shift in the expression of the man before him. The next instant, the world spun as he found himself trapped between the yellow pear-wood circle chair and a hard, unyielding chest. The man’s fingertips parted his collar slightly, exposing a constellation of glaring red blossoms scattered across his snow-white collarbones.
Calloused fingertips slowly traced over the slight indentations of bite marks left upon his skin. The exposed chest was covered in similar marks of ownership, each one serving as an undeniable testament to another man’s tyrannical possessiveness.
Staring fixedly at those grating red marks, Ning Wuchen’s crimson eyes flashed with an obscure, unreadable emotion: “Did you… sleep with him?”
[Warning: Male Lead’s corruption value is surging abnormally!]
Shen Zaixin could judge with absolute certainty that the surge in corruption value this time originated entirely from the man right in front of him.
“152, are you still certain the male lead is Xie Linfeng?”
152 scrambled for a moment in a daze, speaking blankly: [The program shows no abnormalities whatsoever.]
“What if even the system has been deceived?”
152 fell silent. The hypothesis was far too bold, sending a shiver of dread down its spine if dwelled upon too deeply. It was better not to think too much about it; the main plotline had long since collapsed anyway, and it couldn’t be bothered to care.
The sudden descent of darkness interrupted Shen Zaixin’s train of thought. The palm covering his eyes was warm and broad, and he heard the other’s cold, deep voice ring out beside his ear: “What is Changning thinking about?”
“Ning Wuchen.” Shen Zaixin furrowed his brows slightly; he harbored little fondness for unknowns that slipped outside his control.
The moment the words left his lips, a flurry of dense, overlapping kisses began to spread downward from his neck, precisely blanketing the traces of the previous night’s intimacy.
A stinging pain mingled with a strange, deviant wave of pleasure, nearly drawing a soft moan from his lips.
The warm breath brushing against his ear dyed his earlobes crimson: “Didn’t Changning ask me yesterday if I wanted to share cloud and rain with you here in this Demon Palace?”
Ning Wuchen murmured as he nipped lightly at the lobe of his ear, “Why go looking for someone else instead?”
The surging jealousy and hatred raging within his chest no longer allowed the man to remain content with waiting. He should have understood long ago that his beloved’s fickle, wandering nature rendered unwavering loyalty and patient waiting completely worthless in those eyes.
The hand before his eyes lifted. Opening his eyes, Shen Zaixin saw the lofty, unapproachable Demon Lord kneeling on one single knee before him, bowing his head in pious devotion as he kissed the back of the youth’s hand.
The red-robed Immortal withdrew his hand, his brilliant face blooming with an amused smile: “Senior Brother, you understand me. I only like humble, lowly dogs, and you…”
As for Ning Wuchen, whether looking at the Qingrong Immortal of the past few centuries or the Demon Lord whom all demons now bowed to, he was always someone adored and revered by others, standing so high above, so impeccably self-restrained and proud.