Yu Jiao’s chin was lifted, her watery eyes meeting his, and she clearly saw the color of his pupils deepen.
The handsome face in front of her kept enlarging, their noses nearly touching. From her angle, she could see each distinct eyelash and the fine down on his face.
His nose slowly descended, and she could even smell the scent of plum blossoms on him, tinged faintly with blood, yet surprisingly not unpleasant.
Chu Yin glanced at her tense body, tilted his head slightly, and pressed his lips to her small cherry-like mouth. His large hand slipped around her waist and stroked her gently.
The warm breath brushed against her face. Yu Jiao’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she instinctively held her breath, too afraid to move.
He had only intended to tease her, but the softness and warmth of her lips were addictive. He couldn’t resist pressing harder, grinding against her.
Just as he thought this, a metallic taste of blood rose in his throat. He frowned and pulled back from the soft warmth, spitting out blood that dripped uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth.
Freed from restraint, Yu Jiao gasped for air in great gulps, taking a long moment to recover. Yet, the head resting against her neck now hung limply in her collar, utterly lifeless.
He felt as if all the strength had been drained from him; he was so quiet that it seemed he had stopped breathing. No wonder she was sent to marry into the household to “bring luck”—one moment silent, and suddenly gone.
She hadn’t even entered the door yet. If he quietly died like this, concealing it from everyone, would she not be cursed as a woman who brings death to her husband?
Blood dripped onto the back of her hand, scorching and alarming.
With a ripping sound, Yu Jiao tore a strip of cloth from her wedding dress, turned her face, and carefully wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. After cleaning him, she slightly tilted her face and pressed it against his.
The delicate, smooth skin touched Chu Yin’s face, a warmth she had never experienced before.
Warm, comfortable, utterly tempting.
After a while, Chu Yin slowly lifted himself from her, propping one leg up and leaning lazily against the back wall. A faint trace of blood lingered at the corner of his mouth, his lips curling as he stared at her like a living King of Hell, chillingly imposing.
Yu Jiao pressed her lips together.
The next second, a hand as white as jade reached out, grabbing the sleeve of her red wedding dress to wipe the blood that had dripped from his mouth down to his neck.
His bloodthirsty eyes darkened slightly. Truly, there existed a little white rabbit who was unafraid of him?
He moved his mouth. Yu Jiao, fearless of consequences, quickly covered his lips again. She sneaked a glance at him and instinctively shrank her neck.
His gaze darkened further. Yu Jiao bit her lips lightly and whispered weakly, “Prince, you’re still not stronger than me.”
Chu Yin lazily lifted his eyes, glancing at her with a smirk of disdain.
Breaking a bone was nothing; what strength would that require?
Yet Yu Jiao was oblivious. Feeling a tingle in her palm, her cheeks flushed as she shyly said, “That’s true too!”
“Oh?” he drawled, lifting her hand off him, tilting his eyes slightly. “Which matter?”
“Just… the matter in the room.” She may have never eaten pork, but she had seen pigs run. Thinking of it made her suddenly bolder. In a low, firm voice she added, “I don’t want you to overexert yourself and die.”
Chu Yin raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “I, die on your bed? Impossible.”
Yu Jiao promptly shut her mouth, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other around his waist, and followed the wedding procession.
She changed her mind. Seeing his face, she decided not to run.
“Heh.” The man seemed amused by her determination, letting her support him as he leaned heavily against her.
Hugging her waist, lifting with strength, all in one smooth motion.
“You still have some strength.”
Yu Jiao tightened her hold on his waist and said dismissively, “It’s nothing. I told you, you’re still weaker than me. I’ve carried people heavier than you.”
Heavier than him?
The women of Yan Guo were all very slender.
He lowered his gaze, staring at her intently, then irrationally pressed his body against hers, as if he had no bones.
His mouth brushed against her ear. Suddenly, he said, “If This Prince, cannot die on your bed, This Prince, will dismantle your bones.”
His long hand hung naturally on her shoulder, touching only soft flesh.
Yu Jiao stiffened for a moment. The soft contact made her shiver, and she pouted and glared at him.
Though her eyes conveyed anger, they were crystal clear. Her eyelashes flickered, casting gentle shadows, giving even her glare an innocent air.
Redness spread to her ears. Chu Yin lazily lifted his eyelids to glance at her.
Enchantress.
Yu Jiao took two steps forward, when suddenly a cold breeze swept over her shoulders. A shiver ran through her.
Her wide wedding dress had somehow loosened, revealing a large patch of skin at her chest, glimpses of which were visible.
She lifted her head abruptly, eyes wide in shock.
“This Prince, have no interest in this little flesh of yours,” Chu Yin said, lowering his gaze and glancing at her faintly, curling his lips in a half-smile, half-smirk. “This Prince, am only interested in burning your bones.”
Yu Jiao’s eyelashes quivered. She quickly adjusted her dress, embarrassed. “Prince, you jest again. The wind is so strong.”
Chu Yin pressed against her, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. His nose filled with her citrus scent. Yu Jiao supported him, walking slowly, tripping over a stone and stumbling slightly.
In an instant, a shadow stirred in the darkness behind them. Chu Yin opened his eyes sharply, casting a keen glance.
Only when the two had walked far did the shadow emerge, scratching its head and asking the darkness, “Ying Feng, why did the Prince glare at me? We could have helped him back faster.”
Another shadow emerged, glancing at the two red figures, deep in thought.
Ying Jue didn’t understand. Why care about someone fated not to survive three days after marrying the Princess Consort of Yan?
Ying Feng scanned Ying Jue from head to toe. “Because you don’t have it.”
“Don’t have what?”
“Don’t have the two ounces of flesh.”
…
Inside Yan Wang’s Residence, the atmosphere was heavy and silent, unlike the grandeur of the wedding procession. It was gloomy. If not for the red lanterns and ribbons at the entrance, one might think a funeral was being held.
For some reason, Yu Jiao felt the scene was ominously dark, like a red funeral hall. Instinctively, she wanted to cling to someone.
The silence was terrifying. Yu Jiao swallowed nervously and called in a trembling voice, “Prince.”
The only reply was endless quiet, not even a breath. She looked beside her.
Chu Yin’s eyes were closed, his entire weight pressing on her, completely still, face pale.
Yu Jiao’s heart skipped a beat.
“Ah, he… isn’t dead, is he?”
“Prince?”
Before she could reach for his breath, the person leaning against her suddenly opened his eyes, glancing at her askew. His hand, which had been on her shoulder, grabbed the jade bowl she extended. With a little force, he drew her fully into his embrace.
“This Prince, am not dead,” he said, lowering his gaze. He blew softly toward her nearly bleeding earlobe. “If I were to die, it should be on the bed. Or… do you secretly wish for me to die sooner?”
Chu Yin’s gaze fixed tightly on her, lips curving, but the smile never reached his eyes. Even his eyes carried a cold menace.
Next, his nails pressed against her main artery, rhythmically.
Everything cleaner than him should be destroyed.
The skin under his hand was delicate and soft; a slight press could make blood spurt. Chu Yin’s eyes darkened as his pressure increased.
“Prince~” Yu Jiao shivered, speaking weakly in a soft, tender voice. Her innocent eyes glimmered with unshed tears, as if she might burst into gentle sobs at any moment.
He suddenly felt amused, curious if she was truly so delicate.
The pressure deepened, then abruptly eased.
Yu Jiao’s chest heaved as she breathed heavily, fearing he might suddenly pierce her artery. She clutched his arm, hastily explaining, “Prince, it’s my mouth that cannot speak properly. Your generosity surely will not hold it against me.”
Chu Yin lifted his eyelids and laughed lightly. “Which mouth?”