Xiao Biehe drifted back into a heavy sleep after the youth left. A man who had been instinctively vigilant since childhood now found himself sleeping soundly, his life entirely in the hands of an enemy. He felt a relaxation he had never known before.
By the time the boy returned, Biehe was already awake. He waited for the youth to step away before opening his eyes and reaching for the clean clothes left on the table. He had just finished changing when the door pushed open again.
“Brother.” The youth walked straight toward him, his smile bright and clear a stark contrast to the previous night. “Let me help you wash up. I cooked porridge; will you eat some? Afterward, I need to apply your medicine again. We can’t let your injuries linger.”
Biehe didn’t speak. He glanced at the boy and was immediately swept up into his arms. Having never been so close to anyone, Biehe instinctively tried to resist, but the smiling youth only held him tighter.
After washing, Lu Guanyan carried the “beauty” to the table. The porridge and roasted rabbit were still steaming. Noticing Biehe’s hands were cold, Lu Guanyan draped another thick robe over his shoulders.
The boy was eager to please, just as he had been when they first met. He knelt by Biehe’s side, looking up at him. “Brother, will you try some?”
Biehe didn’t refuse. He took a spoonful of porridge and ate it. The Little Madman’s tense heart relaxed. “Try the meat I roasted?”
Biehe looked at the rabbit. Finding game in this season was no small feat. “Did you go out to catch this this morning?”
The fact that the beauty was willing to initiate conversation thrilled him. Lu Guanyan suppressed a grin, trying not to look too flamboyant. “Yes. Please, taste it.”
Under the boy’s expectant gaze, Biehe tore off a piece of meat and ate it. He didn’t understand why the boy was so nervous. With his internal energy gone and his legs paralyzed, Biehe was the one who should be feeling a sense of crisis.
Ever since his legs first fell ill at age fifteen, Biehe’s greatest fear every winter was that he would never stand again. Now that the day had finally come, he wasn’t as sad as he expected. Instead, it felt as though a heavy stone had finally been lifted from his heart.
He finished eating and set down his utensils. Despite preparing breakfast for two, the boy hadn’t touched a bite; he had spent the entire time watching Biehe.
Biehe remained in the boy’s hands partly out of resignation, partly as an escape from his own identity. He felt that if he died now, it would be a complete and true liberation.
Suddenly, the boy looked aggrieved. “Brother… is it not good?”
“No,” Biehe denied, surprised. “I’ve simply had enough.”
Lu Guanyan looked skeptical and unhappy. “Is it really not bad?” Biehe shook his head.
Lu Guanyan used a warm, damp cloth to wipe Biehe’s hands. The heat felt wonderful against his icy skin. Then, the boy carried him back to the bed. “Brother, time for medicine.”
Biehe remained still, letting the youth unfasten his clothes. As the cool, fragrant ointment was applied to his wounds, Biehe’s body trembled instinctively. He looked away, asking in a cold, distant voice, “Aren’t you going to kill me?”
The hand applying the medicine froze. Then, Lu Guanyan smiled. “You are in my hands. Naturally, I will do whatever I want.”
Biehe fell silent, and the boy continued his work. When Biehe had been unconscious, Lu Guanyan hadn’t dared to fully undress him. Now that the beauty was conscious and not resisting, he saw the full extent of the damage.
He was covered in scars and fresh wounds. No wonder he had collapsed.
Heartache and hatred warred in the boy’s mind. He accidentally pressed too hard on a wound, causing himself more distress than Biehe, who remained calm. Lu Guanyan’s eyes those deep blue pupils began to brim with tears.
Biehe was confused. What now? He didn’t ask. He simply pulled a piece of clothing to cover himself. Seeing this, the crying youth paused. “Are you cold, Brother?” Without waiting for an answer, he piled more robes onto Biehe. “I’ll be faster. I’m sorry.”
Biehe was stunned. This was not the behavior he expected from an enemy the same one who, just last night, had threatened to…
He couldn’t remember ever offending this boy. The person before him was nothing like the rumored “Madman Prince” of Yan.
The youth moved quickly but gently. Once the upper body was bandaged and Biehe was dressed again, the boy didn’t leave. His eyes were still wet as he reached for Biehe’s trousers.
Biehe flinched, instinctively grabbing the boy’s hand. He let go when their eyes met, but as the boy moved forward again, Biehe shielded his waist, his expression uncharacteristically flustered.
Lu Guanyan was thrilled to see a new emotion on the beauty’s face. He moved Biehe’s hands aside and leaned in, his fangs peeking out. “Brother, don’t fight me. In your current state, you can’t.”
Biehe froze. He knew it was true. He expected the worst.
However, Lu Guanyan left his inner layers intact. He gathered Biehe’s paralyzed legs into his lap, rolled up the fabric, and opened a new jar of ointment. The room filled with the scent of herbs as he began to massage the legs.
As time passed, Biehe’s tension faded. The boy was patient, showing no signs of resentment. The legs, though paralyzed, were still capable of feeling immense pain like being crushed by iron or pierced by needles. But under the boy’s warm hands and the warming ointment, the sharp pain began to dull.
Biehe looked at him, dazed.
Lu Guanyan noticed the gaze. “Your legs are beautiful, Brother. They shouldn’t be ruined. Let me massage them for you every day, alright?”
Biehe’s lashes fluttered, but he didn’t answer. He thought: If my legs are ruined, I am easier to control. Without legs, I am no longer a general, and no soldier will follow me. Why is he trying to heal me?
By the time the massage ended, the legs were burning hot. The “ice pick” sensation in his bones had vanished. Lu Guanyan tucked the legs back into the thick quilts, terrified that a draft might hurt them.
He looked at Biehe’s face, and his desire flared. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, his hands supporting Biehe’s head and waist as he pulled him up. He ignored the resistance in Biehe’s eyes and kissed him.
The struggling beauty went dead still, his eyes wide with shock. Lu Guanyan, however, felt as if something had exploded in his brain.
I made a mistake. I was too reckless. He’ll never forgive me now.
He’s a general of Liang, and I’m from Yan. He already knows who I am. He must loathe me. Now he’ll never speak to me again…
Panic surged through the Little Madman. His blue eyes shifted through a kaleidoscope of grief and rage. He suppressed his tears and tightened his grip.
He pulled away from the lips, a cruel, defensive smile masking his fear. He forced Biehe’s jaw open with his fingers and hissed, “Open your mouth, Brother. I’ll teach you how to kiss.”
Biehe was suffocating. It was his first time being touched like this. His senses were magnified, his body rigid, trapped in the boy’s hold as a tongue slid past his teeth. He could only stare, wide-eyed, as the world tilted away.