When drunk, Ji Yunzhao became somewhat rowdy, not cooperating very well with Yan Fulang’s care.
After rapping his cheap disciple on the head, he recalled how he had been ignored for a long time during this period, which made him feel annoyed. He also felt a little worried about his future tasks, the plot, and, most importantly, his retirement life, feeling more and more uncomfortable the more he thought about it.
How could merely rapping the villainous disciple’s skull be enough, his limp, weak arms were raised once again, attempting to pinch the youth’s face.
This time, it would not be so easy to succeed.
The hair tie suddenly loosened from his hair, and his pitch-black, ink-like hair instantly spread across his entire back. His hands, which were only half-raised, were entwined by the snow-white hair ribbon and spiritual energy belonging to another person, unable to advance even half a fraction further.
“Senior, pardon my offense,” Yan Fulang said in a low voice, controlling his spiritual energy to confine Ji Yunzhao’s hands to his sides.
“You,”
An inescapable restriction pressed against his wrists. Having drunk wine, Ji Yunzhao’s consciousness was not quite clear, and for a moment he failed to remember that he could completely use his cultivation to suppress Yan Fulang.
He merely knit his brows, raising his face rather unhappily.
His beautiful almond eyes were filled with watery mist, and he tried hard to open his eyes wide, but at this moment, there was only a blurry shadow in front of him.
Why was it pitch-black, just like his cheap disciple’s heart.
His almond eyes slowly narrowed as Ji Yunzhao tried to shake off the oppressive feeling around his wrists, but no matter how hard he tried, a continuous sensation of being suppressed and bound came from his wrists.
“What is this thing, why can I not shake it off,” he mumbled as he began to lecture, “Yan, Yan Fulang, what are you standing there for, hurry up and help,”
Yan Fulang, who heard the cry for help but could not help, and who was currently controlling Ji Yunzhao himself, remained silent.
Yan Fulang had not expected the drunk Ji Yunzhao to look like this, constantly thrashing around like a kitten that was still defiant even after being pinched by the scruff of its neck, stretching its paws to scratch someone, with its claws even popping out, looking as though it would never rest until it took revenge on the detestable human.
Even the usually mischievous Tongtong looked much more well-behaved than he did right now.
“Senior,” Yan Fulang sighed softly, “you are drunk, go back to sleep.”
A faint fragrance of wine, accompanied by a slightly sweet floral scent, drifted into his nose. Yan Fulang suddenly had the illusion that he had also drunk wine, otherwise, why would he be so patient.
He even felt that the heavily intoxicated Ji Yunzhao was somewhat cute.
His thin lips curved up slightly into an inconspicuous angle, which was then immediately forced down.
Over the past half a month, the strange emotion that frequently welled up in his heart arrived inappropriately once again, while he held the thrashing, drunk cat in his arms, and a moment of carelessness might result in being scratched.
Yan Fulang could only handle the most urgent matter first.
He carried the man directly back to the room.
Having not entered the main house for a long time, the furnishings inside had barely changed at all.
Except for the soft couch by the window, which was covered with a very thick, soft cushion that a person could sink into, the curio shelf in the corner had a few more peculiar decorations, and the bed was much messier than the last time he saw it.
The soft blanket was piled into a small mountain right in the middle of the large bed, with a tunnel carved through it, which was obviously meant for the little black cat Tongtong at home to burrow into.
The pillow had been tossed to the inner side of the bed, and lying in its original spot was a long, thin, unidentified object stuffed with cotton, which had a head, two arms, and two legs, but the proportions were truly strange, making it impossible to tell if it was human or a monster.
Yan Fulang’s searching gaze arrived at the foot of the bed.
A few books were scattered there, and judging by their bright and flamboyant covers, they did not look like proper books.
Unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him, he seemed to spot words like “The Escaped Sweetheart” and “The Sky-High Priced Beloved Wife.”
Yan Fulang was speechless.
It was truly bizarre.
On such a large bed, there was not even a place where a person could be laid down properly.
He stood before the bed and hesitated for a moment, and just as Ji Yunzhao almost broke free from his embrace once again, he turned around decisively and left.
He carried a certain drunk cat back to his own room.
“Mmh,”
Ji Yunzhao mumbled while nestling in Yan Fulang’s embrace, never staying still for a single moment.
When he was not struggling to get down, he was continuously attempting to raise his hands, which were bound by the hair ribbon, to thump Yan Fulang’s chest.
Yan Fulang finally managed to place him on the bed, and before he could untie the hair ribbon around his wrists, he saw him suddenly sit up straight from the bed.
The bound hands reached over, grabbed his sleeve, and tugged hard.
But they failed to move him.
“Senior, stop messing around.”
Yan Fulang sighed softly, gathering Ji Yunzhao’s hands into his palm, while his other hand brushed aside the slender, fair fingertips to pull his sleeve away, saying, “You rest first, I will go brew a bowl of hangover soup for you.”
Ji Yunzhao blinked, looking very well-behaved with his face upturned, and actually quieted down for a moment.
Just as Yan Fulang was about to successfully rescue his pitiful sleeve and leave the room for the kitchen, those hands suddenly exerted force, pulling the sleeve back.
A vast wave of spiritual energy suddenly surged, violently sweeping past his side, and all the doors and windows in the room shut tightly with a loud bang, locking completely.
The young man’s black hair was scattered all over the bed, and his plain white robes were layered like a blooming snow lotus. The pressure belonging to the Wuxiang Realm enveloped the entire room, and the hair ribbon binding his hands snapped into two pieces, falling to the floor.
It looked quite intimidating, but the crimson flush on his cheeks diluted this cold solemnity.
“You still want to lie to me,” Ji Yunzhao pinched the sleeve and refused to let go, his face full of pride from seeing through Yan Fulang’s little trick, “what hangover soup, why should I drink hangover soup, are you trying to find an excuse to avoid me again,”
“Senior, I,”
Yan Fulang looked down, meeting those almond eyes that clearly contained drunkenness but were exceptionally clear, and suddenly he could say no words of sophistry.
These past few days, he had indeed been avoiding Ji Yunzhao.
But not right now, he simply wanted to go brew a bowl of hangover soup.
Seeing that he stopped speaking halfway, Ji Yunzhao lowered his almond eyes and pursed his lips, returning to his quiet and well-behaved appearance.
Yan Fulang let out a long sigh of relief imperceptibly, but in the next second, a sudden push came from behind him, and the front of his robes was also grabbed by a pair of slender, white hands and yanked violently.
Caught off guard, Yan Fulang failed to steady his body, falling onto the bed together with Ji Yunzhao.
Plain white and ink black intertwined, and their sleeves tangled together. By the time Yan Fulang snapped out of it, one of his hands was already bound, and what bound him was not a hair ribbon, but a silver object.
A short section of chain connected two thin circles together, fixing his wrist to the headboard.
It was not a magical artifact, but an object made of ordinary metal. Yan Fulang was no longer a mortal, so it would be very easy to break it open.
But his intuition told him that he had better not do so.
Moreover, at this moment, there was a matter even more urgent than breaking free from the restraint.
Ji Yunzhao sat on top of him, with one hand propped against his chest and the other hand fiddling with the unidentified silver object restricting his wrist, his crimson lips curved up, looking very satisfied.
“Let us see how you can avoid me now.”
Yan Fulang took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his tone steady, saying, “Senior, I will not avoid you, you get down first.”
“I will not,” Ji Yunzhao refused without hesitation, “if I get down, you will run away.”
Yan Fulang rattled his immovable hand, saying, “I will not, with Senior like this, I cannot run away.”
“Oh right, there are handcuffs!”
Ji Yunzhao realized abruptly, leaning even closer, “But you still have another hand.”
The flush on the young man’s cheeks had not faded yet, and his neck was also tinged with a shallow pink, his body being somewhat warmer than usual.
Yan Fulang raised his unbound hand, pressing it against Ji Yunzhao’s shoulder to stop him from drawing any closer.
“Senior,” he said, “get down.”
Yan Fulang’s tone carried a hint of command unconsciously, but Ji Yunzhao’s confused brain was already incapable of thinking.
The faint fragrance of the peach blossom wine lingered on his body, as though he were thoroughly soaked through inside and out. His mind seemed to be stuffed full of soft peach blossom petals, and trying to recover his reason while drunk was truly an exceptionally difficult task.
Ji Yunzhao’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, failing to hear clearly what Yan Fulang was saying.
He only felt that something was pressing uncomfortably against him from behind, and could not help but interrupt, saying, “What is that thing pressing against me, Yan Fulang, did you bring your sword to bed,”
“Why is this sword hilt still warm,”
“It is so hot, when I bought it, the product details did not mention it had a heating function,”
“Do not put your weapon on the bed…”
Ji Yunzhao complained in a small voice, no longer playing with the handcuffs, turning his body fuzzily while his hand groped backward, wanting to take the annoying long sword away.
Yan Fulang’s breathing grew heavy instantly.
“Click.”
A soft sound suddenly came from the headboard.
Ji Yunzhao was dazed, raising his eyes very slowly to look, only to see a section of the silver object falling amidst the pillows. Following that, his field of vision inverted, and Yan Fulang broke free from the restraint, flipping over to press him down amidst the soft bedding.
“Senior,”
The youth’s restrained voice sounded from above, “do not move anymore.”