Having made his decision, the young Master Chu suppressed his inner bashfulness and the uncontrollable flush creeping up his cheeks. As if to divert his attention, his gaze swept toward the desk in front of him.
Aside from the “Four Treasures of the Study” (brush, ink, paper, and inkstone), there were stacks of documents. Unfortunately, they were pressed down by a jade paperweight, rendering them illegible.
Beyond that, a sheet of Xuan paper was spread out, with only the beginning of a sentence written upon it. Just as Chu Ling tried to focus his eyes to read it, a large hand preemptively grabbed the paper—the ink still wet—and casually crumpled it into a ball before tossing it at his feet.
This single movement made Chu Ling’s heart hammer against his ribs. He felt a surge of trepidation, fearing his intent to steal intelligence had been discovered, yet he completely overlooked the man’s true motive behind the gesture.
“G-Ghost Big Brother…”
Guilt-ridden and acting like a thief, the young master’s words stumbled. Fortunately, the man behind him didn’t seem to notice—or rather, his entire attention was focused on that crumpled ball of paper, which bore handwriting entirely different from Ji Wuyuan’s.
“Hmm? Does Ling-er have something to tell Big Brother?”
Having just established a relationship that could “take things slow,” Ghost Mask seemed to step into the role quickly. He chuckled softly, ruffling the youth’s soft hair.
Seeing that he hadn’t discovered anything, the youth felt a wave of relief. He then tried to push away the arms wrapped tightly around his waist, asking to be let go. Instead of releasing him, the man pulled him even tighter.
Chest to back, even the several layers of clothing between them couldn’t block the transmission of that scorching body heat, nor the sensation of being forced to sit upon the man’s thigh. For a moment, even the surrounding air seemed to smell of parched heat.
Ghost Mask lowered his eyes slightly, catching a glimpse of the youth’s fair, slender neck beneath his silky black hair. His translucent, reddened earlobes looked as delicate and vivid as pearls… his fingers curled uncontrollably.
Ghost Mask closed his eyes and reopened them, the inexplicable glint in his gaze fading away. He hooked a strand of hair falling over the youth’s chest and looked at his flushed profile with a teasing smile.
“Is Ling-er in such a hurry to leave because you’re afraid I’ll eat you?”
These words caused the blush on the youth’s face to deepen. When he turned his head, his eyes were misty, shimmering with an alluring light.
“Ghost Big Brother, don’t… don’t make those kinds of jokes, or I’ll ignore you.” The youth turned back in shameful annoyance, refusing to look at him.
Ghost Mask knew when to stop. Ignoring the slight pang of regret rising in his heart, he smiled. “Fine, fine, I won’t tease you anymore. But it’s time for dinner; can Ling-er stay and eat with me?”
Thinking of the youth’s soft-hearted nature, he sighed. “In the past, I was always alone. It was so lonely that even the most delicious food tasted like wax. If even Ling-er refuses to accompany me, I truly won’t know what to do.”
The way he phrased it made it seem like the youth would be less than human if he didn’t stay.
The naive youth was naturally moved by these words. His bashful urge to flee faded slightly. Thinking that it was just a single meal, he whispered with a red face, “I’ll stay then…”
However, it didn’t take long for the youth to regret it. The man didn’t let him go at all; instead, he lifted him up directly. The sensation of being airborne caused the youth to instinctively wrap his arms around the man’s neck, his body pressing closer to the man’s firm chest.
Before he could react, the man carried him out of the room. Passing servants caused the youth to bury his face into the man’s chest, leaving only the tips of his ears visible—so red they looked as if they might start smoking.
Witnessing this, the man chuckled low, his chest vibrating like a drum. The youth, exploding with embarrassment, gave him a small punch. Yet, that tiny bit of strength wasn’t even enough to scratch an itch; it felt more like flirting.
Ghost Mask’s eyes softened until they looked like a pool of water, reflecting the youth’s blushing, tempting face. Yet, for some reason, a trace of loss surfaced deep within his heart.
What… was he feeling lost about?
For the first time, Ghost Mask felt a sense of bewilderment, but subconsciously, he didn’t want this feeling to disappear.
…
At the dinner table, after much insistence from the youth, he finally escaped the man’s scorching embrace and sat on a nearby stool.
Ghost Mask unconsciously flexed his palm. It was empty, of course. Without the youth’s soft touch, the sense of loss felt like a dark, bottomless hole, slowly eroding his heart…
On the surface, however, the curve of Ghost Mask’s lips was indistinguishable from Ji Wuyuan himself.
“Ling-er, try this.”
“Ling-er, come, open your mouth.”
“Ling-er…”
As the dinner progressed, it gradually turned into a session of feeding the youth.
It lasted until the red sunset faded and the sky turned a deep azure before transitioning into ink-blue.
With no more excuses to keep the youth, Ghost Mask could only watch with a smile as he departed. That bashful figure couldn’t wait to vanish into the neighboring courtyard. The next second, Ghost Mask’s expression turned solemn, and he instantly knelt on one knee.
“Master.”
In the darkening twilight, a shadow detached itself, forming a tall, slender figure. He possessed eyes like slits, exquisite features, and wore a set of luxurious, dark black robes.
It was the real Ji Wuyuan.
His eyes narrowed as he gazed toward the courtyard where the figure had disappeared. After a long silence, his pupils shifted to look down at the kneeling Ghost Mask. His gaze was dark and brooding.
“You two seem to be getting along quite well…”
Ghost Mask remained expressionless, keeping his head low. He said respectfully, “It is all for the sake of the Master.”
“You even hugged…”
Ji Wuyuan’s gaze was erratic and unpredictable. A strange, inexplicable jealousy seemed to be quietly festering—the most irrational thing in the world.
Ghost Mask’s pupils suddenly contracted. The next moment—THUD!—a muffled sound rang out. Ghost Mask’s body was slammed violently against an ancient tree in the courtyard. The tree snapped at the trunk, and the lush leaves came crashing down to the ground, eventually returning to silence.
A trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Ghost Mask dared not question it. Realizing he wasn’t dead, he crawled up and knelt on one knee again, his head bowed in deep respect, though he looked far more disheveled than before.
He explained in a low voice, “Subordinate was acting according to the Master’s usual mode of interaction with Young Master Chu. Since I am disguised as the Master, I must leave no traces, so that he… falls in love with you.”
His heart suddenly trembled, as if experiencing a dull ache—a sensation much clearer and more defined than his physical injuries.
Crack. Did you hear that? The sound of something breaking?
Ghost Mask didn’t know. He only felt that dark, bottomless hole deep inside him—the one that could never be filled—growing even wider.
Ji Wuyuan finally withdrew his oppressive gaze. The corners of his mouth curled up with pleasure as if he had thought of something wonderful, and his mood improved.
“You did well. Ling-er is beginning to accept me. It won’t be long…”
Then, his eyes slanted toward the man on the ground, dark and heavy. “Remember, know your place.”
Ghost Mask’s body stiffened slightly. He lowered his head even further. “Yes, Master.”