The youth recoiled in shock, having no time to consider the possibility of falling backward.
Fortunately, in the next second, a familiar and strong arm hooked around his slender waist. With a swift pirouette, he was pulled firmly into the man’s embrace.
A warm breath brushed against his translucent earlobe, dyeing it crimson, accompanied by a low, intimate chuckle right beside him.
“Is Ling-er… in such a hurry to throw himself into Big Brother’s arms?”
The youth’s cheeks burned. He hurriedly covered his ears and struggled to break free, but the more he squirmed, the tighter the embrace became. Due to the friction of his movements, the temperature of the man behind him seemed to soar.
A certain hardness pressed against him, tilting upward uncontrollably.
The youth froze instantly.
The man buried his head by the side of the youth’s neck and let out a low laugh—one that was both playful and laced with a touch of raw sexiness.
“Ling-er… you started this. Tell me, what should we do about it?”
…
It was impossible for Chu Ling to flee the scene in a state of utter humiliation… or was it?
Faced with this mortifying moment that made him want to explode on the spot, the exceptionally “pure” Young Master Chu managed to hold his breath until he nearly fainted. Luckily, Ji Wuyuan noticed in time and finally loosened his grip, allowing his scorching body to move back a fraction.
However, as he watched the boy slowly recover, he couldn’t help but sigh: “So shy… if it’s like this now, what will we do on our wedding night?”
This lingering remark sent another wave of crimson across Chu Ling’s face. He shot the man a glare with watery, shimmering eyes that held absolutely zero killing intent.
Realizing he should quit while he was ahead, Ji Wuyuan raised his hands in surrender. He stood with his feet slightly offset to hide his restless physical reaction—a state of “painful bliss.”
To divert attention, he looked toward the grilled fish over the fire and noticed the fishing rod by the pond. Understanding dawned on him, and he let out a deep, melodic laugh. “Did Ling-er catch these? To catch so many… My Ling-er is truly amazing.”
The unreserved praise—ignoring the word “my”—sounded like the ultimate validation of his fishing skills to the bashful youth. Chu Ling turned his head slightly, almost forgetting his embarrassment in his pride.
“It… it wasn’t that amazing…”
Ji Wuyuan looked at the boy’s slender, snowy neck, which was flushed pink against his steaming cheeks. His eyes were misty and moist, the corners looking as if they had been touched by a stroke of rouge—alluring and soul-stirring.
Adam’s apple bobbed. Ji Wuyuan slightly regretted letting him go so soon; at the very least… he should have collected some interest.
His gaze fell upon those pale pink lips. The memory of the “delicacy” he had tasted last time resurfaced vividly, making his heart itch with unbearable desire. His eyes grew increasingly dark.
Seemingly unaware of Ji Wuyuan’s shifting mood, Chu Ling rubbed his cheeks. Though still hot, his heart had calmed significantly.
He sat back down by the fire, picked up a fragrant, golden-brown grilled fish, and handed it to the man who was standing still.
“Here, Ghost Big Brother. Consider this grilled fish my thanks—you’re not allowed to refuse.”
The last part was said with a slightly raised volume, carrying a tone that brooked no argument. The sight of the youth feigning a “tsundere” attitude while hiding his shyness was incredibly adorable.
Ji Wuyuan snapped back to reality and smiled, reaching out to take the fish. Their hands touched briefly in the air; his large hand naturally enveloped the back of the youth’s slender, fair hand. Unfortunately, in the next second, the youth instinctively retracted it, his face flushing.
“Big Brother, eat quickly…”
The defensive urging was written all over his face.
Ji Wuyuan didn’t call him out. He simply arched an eyebrow, looking down at the delicious-smelling fish, and spoke with mock hesitation: “This fish… shouldn’t taste bad, right?”
“…”
[Sys, put ten pounds of laxatives in there for me.]
The System, suddenly receiving the order: [Apologies, Host. The System does not have this function.]
Chu Ling felt a surge of “disappointment in failing his potential”: [Then what use are you!]
System: […]
“If Ghost Big Brother doesn’t want to eat it, then fine. Don’t mind me and the fish I caught myself.”
The youth turned sour, reaching out to take back the fish, only to grab at thin air.
Ji Wuyuan smiled, but adopted an expression of “sacrificing his life for a friend,” sighing leisurely: “If it’s Ling-er’s grilled fish, even if it were poisoned, I would naturally eat it without batting an eye. Not to mention…”
He took a bite of the crispy meat, chewing slowly as a teasing glint appeared in the corners of his eyes before he finished the sentence: “…it is such a delicious… grilled fish.”
He lingered on the last two words, rolling them over his tongue with a double meaning.
The youth seemed not to notice the subtext, but he knew he was being teased. He huffed and turned his head away, signaling that he was ignoring the man.
This pure and lovely reaction only made the man roar with laughter. Seeing the youth grow even more “incensed,” he quickly suppressed his laughter, coughed twice, and began to savor the fish, occasionally letting out sounds of genuine praise.
He had the youth’s psychology pegged perfectly.
…
Seeking Information
After their playfulness, the grilled fish were cleared away. The leftovers were wrapped in leaves by Zijin and Zipei to be brought back.
Above the pond was a small waterfall, the water gurgling as it struck the rocks below, sending spray everywhere. Downstream, a crystal-clear creek meandered through the woods, shimmering under the sunlight. The banks were lush with greenery and dotted with wildflowers—a breathtaking scene.
After all, this was the “fishing holy land” Chu Ling had specifically chosen.
“When one is well-fed and warm, one’s thoughts turn to… things.” (While the proverb usually implies lust, here it refers to having the luxury to scheme).
Chu Ling took this opportunity to step into his character, attempting to pry for information about the “Leader of the Demonic Cult” from “Ghost Big Brother.”
The youth peeked at the man beside him, his heart slightly nervous. His lips, stained a deeper red from the grilled fish, parted slightly as he finally spoke: “Ghost Big Brother, about that…”
The young master, having never lied before, felt quite awkward—especially since he was asking with an ulterior motive.
“Hmm?” The man tilted his head. The deep gaze he leveled at the youth seemed to contain an endless sea of affection.
As if burned by that look, the youth quickly lowered his eyes, his earlobes turning red. He murmured, “It’s just… your Cult Leader… is he good to you?”
As if he hadn’t expected this specific question, the man froze for a moment. Then, his brows rose slightly, a gentle ripple appearing in the depths of his eyes. His tone became exceptionally soft.
“Oh? Is Ling-er worried about me?”
The youth turned his head away, appearing too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “I heard that the Master of the Demonic Cult is bloodthirsty and cruel. Is it true?”
“People in the martial world love to chase shadows and spread rumors. By the time a small story reaches the end, who can say how much truth remains? Three men make a tiger, let alone the gossip of the masses.”
The man looked up and sighed, then said helplessly, “Our Radiant Divine Sect has always had a bad reputation. Why? Because we were defined as a ‘Demonic Cult’ by those who call themselves ‘Righteous.’ A Demonic Cult is, by definition, a crooked and evil sect, so naturally, all bad labels are attached to it. The Master of the Sect, as the leader, is even less likely to escape such slander…”
He lowered his gaze, staring intensely at the youth: “Ling-er, do you think I am the same as the rumors say?”
The youth shook his head immediately. The man tilted his head and smiled meaningfully: “There you have it. If you want to frame someone, you can always find a pretext. Don’t you agree, Ling-er?”