Thud, thud—
Two loud crashes echoed through the room.
Cianus sat on the floor, his back leaning against the bathroom sink. Supporting his lower back, he shivered as his teeth chattered from the pain.
It hurts so much.
Cianus suddenly felt grateful that he was a vampire; otherwise, his lumbar and coccygeal vertebrae would have suffered compound fractures.
“You…” He managed to squeeze a single word out from between his clenched teeth, looking toward the bathroom door.
Xun Jin was also sitting on the floor, his legs weakly splayed out in front of him. His back rested against the bathroom door, leaving a vertical streak of mist wiped clean by his back.
In his helplessness, his restless hands grabbed at his own clothes, tugging two buttons loose. Through the open placket of his shirt, a belly as smooth as white jade was visible. His skin was delicate and so soft it seemed as though it could drip water if pinched.
Cianus’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
Pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he averted his gaze as if he had been burned.
Their eyes met, and Cianus’s gaze followed Xun Jin’s mortified glare down to his own body.
Only then did Cianus remember that when he fell earlier, his hand had instinctively grabbed the nearby laundry hamper, which had also been knocked over, spilling all the clothes inside.
Resting across Cianus’s forearm was a piece of clothing that set his blood boiling.
Cianus stared blankly at Xun Jin, his brain short-circuiting as heat began to pool in a certain area.
Xun Jin bit his lower lip, glaring at him with a look that seemed to say he wanted him dead.
Yet his watery eyes lacked any intimidation, making Cianus feel even more heated under his gaze.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
After a brief pause with no response, two more knocks followed.
The complicated atmosphere in the cramped bathroom instantly evaporated, and Xun Jin’s trembling body calmed down considerably.
Leaning against the door behind him, Xun Jin stood up, cast a sidelong glance at Cianus, and whispered a reprimand: “Get out.”
He would settle accounts with him another day.
Or better yet, let Cianus vanish and never appear again.
Cianus pulled his legs slightly closer together and said nothing more. With a parting “See you tomorrow” directed at Xun Jin, he vanished into thin air once again under Xun Jin’s furious glare.
The scrap of fabric that had rested on Cianus’s forearm fluttered down to the floor.
“Who wants to see you tomorrow?” Xun Jin muttered, finally stepping out of the bathroom.
Huffing and puffing, he shoved the single sofa aside and opened the door.
Standing outside was Zelan, who also looked as though he had just finished taking a shower, radiating the same warm mist as Xun Jin.
A crisp, refreshing breeze washed over him, causing Xun Jin to tilt his head slightly and take a step back.
With his hand still resting on the doorknob, he looked up at the expressionless Zelan, his tone somewhat irritable: “What?”
Sensing the hostility radiating from Xun Jin, Zelan lifted his eyes to sweep a glance inside the room before returning his gaze to Xun Jin.
Xun Jin’s clothes were an absolute mess. The ironed silk pajamas had barely been worn before they were covered in wrinkles. The bottom two buttons were undone, and a slight lift of his hand would reveal a bit of soft flesh above his waistband.
Moreover, his clothes looked quite damp, and his hair was disheveled.
“I heard your voice just now, so I came to check,” Zelan said.
“It’s nothing, I just took a fall,” Xun Jin fobbed him off.
Zelan’s expression shifted as his eyes swept back and forth across Xun Jin’s body, as if searching for something.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m going to sleep.”
With that, Xun Jin made a move to close the door.
Zelan planted his hand against the door, preventing it from shutting easily.
Xun Jin gave it two hard shoves, but when it still wouldn’t close, he threw his hand down and let it be.
“What is it this time?”
Stepping inside, Zelan pulled the door shut behind him and noticed the single sofa by the door. “Why is the sofa over here?”
“Who knows, must have grown legs on its own.” Brushing past Zelan, Xun Jin headed straight toward the bathroom.
The clothes on his back were completely soaked. The water-logged fabric hung heavy, clinging tightly to Xun Jin’s back and outlining a smooth, rounded curve.
His pants were even more thoroughly drenched, clinging to his legs and making it difficult to walk.
In particular, the two thin cotton straps biting into his tender flesh were faintly visible.
Zelan stood silently, taking it all in from behind.
Walking back into the bathroom, Xun Jin crouched down to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor. As he reached for his underwear, he turned his head with a sudden sense of being watched, only to find Zelan leaning sideways against the door with his arms crossed, staring down at him.
Xun Jin quickly snatched the underwear, clenched it into a fist, and shoved it straight to the bottom of the laundry hamper.
“Hah.”
The tips of Xun Jin’s ears burned red as he snapped his head around. “Did you just laugh?!”
“No.” Zelan’s lips relaxed, the expression in his eyes as calm as water.
Xun Jin’s cheeks flushed crimson, shame and anger flashing in his eyes. “Go away, go back!”
Standing up, Xun Jin pushed against Zelan, who was still blocking the doorway. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Go ahead.” Zelan still showed no intention of leaving.
Xun Jin’s voice sounded sweet and petulant, yet betrayed a hint of bashfulness: “You… how can you be like this…”
He was simply acting like a hooligan.
Clutching the hem of his shirt, Xun Jin stood in a standoff with him for a moment before stomping out of the bathroom in a huff and turning off the light.
“Hah.”
Just as Xun Jin reached the wardrobe, he heard the other man’s undisguised chuckle. He paused his movement toward the closet handle and squeezed it with all his might, making the metal creak loudly.
Xun Jin’s palm hurt, his knees hurt, and his heart hurt from being driven crazy by a cousin whose actions defied all normal human logic.
“What on earth do you want…” Xun Jin muttered.
“Your walking posture is very strange, and there’s the scent of blood,” Zelan said, walking over. “Did you injure your knees?”
Zelan had seen right through Xun Jin’s self-deceiving disguise.
Was his nose a dog’s? So sharp.
“What’s wrong with your legs?” A voice devoid of emotion came from behind him.
Xun Jin paused. “Nothing…”
“Hey!” With a sudden exclamation, his body lifted into the air as Zelan scooped him up horizontally.
Instinctively, Xun Jin wrapped his arms around Zelan’s neck, grabbing his collar.
“Are you trying to strangle me?” Zelan murmured in a low voice.
Xun Jin loosened his grip, pulling his arms away from Zelan’s neck. He kept his body half an inch away from Zelan’s chest instead of pressing close.
Zelan wanted to say something more, but looking down into Xun Jin’s mist-filled eyes, he decided against it.
Xun Jin felt that Zelan had done it on purpose. Otherwise, why would Zelan have placed him specifically on the single sofa by the door when there were so many other places to sit in the room?
The moment he was set down, Xun Jin stood right back up.
His clothes were completely soaked, and sitting on the sofa had left a large patch of water stains, making it thoroughly uncomfortable.
“Your clothes are wet.”
Without another word, Zelan went to the wardrobe to get him a change of clothes.
When Zelan emerged with a set of butter-yellow pajamas, Xun Jin frowned in displeasure: “I don’t want this set.”
Surprisingly, Zelan didn’t snap back at him; instead, he exchanged them for another set.
Growing even more willful, Xun Jin let a hint of provocation color his tone:
“I don’t want this one either.”
“It’s ugly.”
“I’m not wearing that.”
Without even glancing at them properly, or before Zelan could even pull them out, Xun Jin rejected them outright.
Zelan paused his movements, turned to look at Xun Jin standing before the sofa, and said coldly:
“Then don’t wear anything.”
“…”
Biting his lip, Xun Jin fell silent.
So obedient.
A wave of satisfaction surged through Zelan.
He relished the thrill of control. Seeing the expression on Xun Jin’s face made the smile at the corners of his mouth deepen.
Standing still when told to stay, watching him rummage through the wardrobe without a word of objection, like someone with shackles on their ankles unable to take a step, forced to stand there and throw a tantrum while whining softly.
Standing there with his hands clutching the hem of his shirt in silence, blinking eyes he imagined to be fierce, when in reality his nose and eyes were flushed red, looking as though he were about to cry.
Stroke the smooth fabric of the pajamas, Zelan imagined Xun Jin beneath his hands…
Zelan held up a set of scandalously skimpy pajamas right in front of Xun Jin, peering through the gaps in the fabric at Xun Jin’s face, which shifted from red to pale and pale to red.
Parting his lips, he uttered: “Put these on.”
After a brief hesitation, Xun Jin snatched the clothes and stomped toward the bathroom.
Once the bathroom door closed, Zelan stared in its direction, a hidden crimson glow gradually blooming in his eyes.
Like a little rabbit chased by a predator, thinking it was safe once it scampered into its burrow, all the while muttering nonstop complaints and talking bad about the person outside.
Feeling that mere words weren’t enough, he even vented his frustration on his clothes.
Without bothering to unbutton the pajamas he was currently wearing, he aggressively yanked the collar loose and pulled the garment straight up and off by the hem.
Stretching his arms upward, he revealed the graceful lines of his torso. Viewed from the side, his body was perhaps a bit too slender, yet his chest was neither flat nor plain.
He kicked off his pants, revealing a pair of long, straight legs blindingly white, his soft thighs trembling slightly with the motion.
As he bent over to toss the pajama pants into the laundry hamper, Zelan caught sight of the thin straps trailing down, sinking into a rosy pink cleft.
Only a tiny patch of fabric covered the front.
The cotton material was form-fitting yet slightly undersized or perhaps designed that way intentionally. With every lift of his leg, flashes of scenery that shouldn’t have been visible were exposed.
Zelan lowered his gaze, his dark eyelashes casting shadows over a surging tide of emotion.
He licked his newly sprouted fangs.
Though it wasn’t the first time he had seen it, he never grew tired of it.
Every day, every single moment brought fresh sensations, and Zelan believed this lasting novelty would continue indefinitely.
After changing clothes, Xun Jin tugged at the excessively wide collar. In truth, it didn’t do much good; what was meant to be shown was still exposed.
That was because it was a tank top specifically, a light pink grandpa-style undershirt.
Shuffling slowly out of the bathroom, he ran right into Zelan’s enigmatic gaze.
Xun Jin froze, a sense of crisis washing over him, and instantly rooted himself to the spot.
“Come here.”
Zelan’s voice sounded somewhat strained, though it retained its usual cold detachment.
It was almost as if the look Xun Jin had caught earlier was just a figment of his imagination.
Sitting at the desk, Xun Jin remained somewhat dazed as he watched his cousin squatting before him to help apply disinfectant.
He pinched himself hard.
Hiss, it wasn’t a dream.
Hadn’t his cheap cousin always despised him? Treating him this suddenly and this well could it be a trap?
“Did you undergo a sex change?” Xun Jin blurted out.
Zelan lifted his eyelids and shot him a cold glare.
Xun Jin pressed his lips together.
Fine, he hadn’t.
Still the same old cousin.
Zelan spoke very little, rarely saying anything unless necessary, and Xun Jin didn’t care to strike up a conversation either, plunging the room into profound silence.
Twirling his fingers, Xun Jin conversed with the voice in his head: ‘Actually, this Zelan isn’t half bad, he just has a venomous tongue.’
[Is this really enough to make you think he’s good?]
‘Yeah,’ Xun Jin mentally ticked off the reasons, ‘Look, he remembers to bring me blood bags, waits for me to eat, and even puts medicine on me when I’m hurt.’
[You’ll find out tonight.]
‘Find out what?’
[If you don’t find out tonight, you’ll know tomorrow night.]
Xun Jin disliked it when that voice spoke to him in such an “unfathomable” tone, making him sound ignorant, foolish, and stupid.
[You are.]
Hmph.
Xun Jin decided to stop talking to the voice altogether.
While he was distracted, Zelan suddenly leaned toward his other, still-untreated knee and licked it.
“What are you doing???”
Startled, Xun Jin tried to pull his leg back, but Zelan grabbed his ankle, locking him in place.
Suddenly realizing his current posture might allow Zelan a clear view inside his shorts from that angle, Xun Jin hurriedly reached down to shield himself.
Averting his eyes, Zelan abruptly asked an unrelated question: “Did you drink this morning’s blood bag?”
“I drank it.”
“Didn’t you already ask that?”
“What did it taste like?”
Unease prickled at Xun Jin; instinct told him he shouldn’t answer, so he tried to pull his leg away. “Let go of me, stop grabbing me.”
“What did the blood in the blood bag taste like?”
With a sudden tightening of Zelan’s grip that made Xun Jin feel as though his ankle might snap, he blurted out anxiously, “Everyone’s blood tastes different, how am I supposed to answer that question?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Xun Jin froze.
He had forgotten the blood in the blood bags was artificially synthesized.
“Did you drink someone else’s blood?”
There was something off about Zelan’s voice, though Xun Jin couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
He had no idea what kind of answer Zelan wanted to hear.
So, he had no choice but to lean into his bad-vampire persona and continue lying: “I didn’t drink any.”
Zelan let out a cold laugh, his chilly breath brushing against Xun Jin’s calf and causing his toes to curl.
“Once you drink someone else’s blood, the scent of a vampire’s own blood changes as a result. Even if the degree of change is slight, how could I not notice after following you for so long?”
“Little liar.”
Xun Jin expected his cousin to lash out at him just like last night, but once Zelan finished speaking, he simply sped up the process of tending to the wound, packed up the medical supplies, and headed out.
At the doorway, Zelan paused, turned his head, and murmured a single sentence.
Xun Jin didn’t catch it.
[Remember to lock the door.]
Why?
Watching the door slowly close and listening to the footsteps fade away, Xun Jin immediately scrambled to his feet. Ignoring the pain in his knees, he ran barefoot across the room to lock the door.
Once the door was locked, he dragged the single sofa over once again to barricade it from behind.
Done.
[As if that’s going to stop anyone…]
Xun Jin glanced back at the terrace; the latch on the French doors was still securely fastened.
Right, Cianus didn’t need to use doors anyway. Powerful vampires could teleport through space whenever they pleased.
In the end, Xun Jin hadn’t kept anyone out; he had only managed to trap himself inside his own room.
‘Why am I so weak…’
Kicking the sofa in frustration, Xun Jin quietly pushed it back out of the way.