“Does junior brother know what I have been thinking about these past few days?” Feng Yu paused. In the next moment, Yan Jue felt a sudden chill on his upper body as a large portion of his shoulder was exposed to the man behind him.
Feng Yu took a deep breath and leaned close to Yan Jue’s ear, whispering foul, unspeakable words. His voice was like a piercing knife, filled with a mixture of excitement and madness. Feeling a hand moving upward beneath his robes, Yan Jue shuddered. His voice trembled as he cried out, “Feng Yu, how dare you! Get away from me!”
“What would I not dare? We are alone here. No one will come to disturb us. Even if you kill yourself tomorrow, I will enjoy you today!”
Yan Jue’s violent struggle had no effect on Feng Yu. Soon, his hands were bound behind his back with his long sleeves, and his pressure points were struck, leaving his body numb and immobile. At this moment, he suddenly thought of A-Ye’s kindness. At least A-Ye would never force him or make him experience this level of extreme despair and helplessness.
Even the system seemed to have gone offline. Must I truly lose my virtue today? Yan Jue thought in despair. He looked up at his own divine statue, a sense of desolation washing over him. What immortal would find themselves being violated in their own temple, beneath their own likeness? The mere thought of it was enough to make one die of embarrassment. Tears blurred his vision, and soft sobs finally escaped his throat.
At the critical moment, a streak of purple light burst through the barrier and flew inside. Feng Yu reacted quickly, but he was forced to release Yan Jue and draw his sword to block the attack.
“Who is there!” Feng Yu shouted. He showed no guilt for his actions, only fury at having his pleasure interrupted.
The attacker did not reveal themselves. Instead, countless clouds of black mist accompanied by purple light surged toward Feng Yu, forcing him back step by step. Feng Yu roared, “Show yourself!”
A larger cloud of black mist struck him. Though Feng Yu tried to block it with his sword, he was knocked off his feet and slammed into a stone pillar with a heavy thud.
“You are not worthy of my appearance,” a deep voice echoed from the darkness. A massive cloud of black mist slowly approached Feng Yu.
Feng Yu spat out a mouthful of blood and stared intently at the figure shrouded in mist. “You are from the Demon Race!”
“You talk too much!”
Qi Yelan lashed out with a purple electric whip. The immense force sent Feng Yu flying from the hall to the courtyard, where he crashed heavily onto the ground. Qi Yelan had not intended to kill anyone or cause trouble here, but in this moment, he wanted that man dead.
When Yan Jue had asked to go out alone, Qi Yelan had stayed behind, but he soon felt an unsettling sense of unease. By the time he arrived here and saw those exposed legs and Yan Jue pinned to the offering table, a string in his mind snapped. Anger made his eyes bloodshot. How could anyone dare to force the person he himself hesitated to even touch?
Immobilized by the struck points, Yan Jue could not see what was happening. He only heard the sound of a whip cracking and Feng Yu’s screams. He did not want to be seen like this. He tried to slide off the offering table, but his legs gave way the moment they touched the ground, and he tumbled clumsily across the floor.
Hearing the commotion, Qi Yelan looked back. His rationality began to return, and Feng Yu took that opportunity to escape. Yan Jue lay on the ground, gasping for breath. Without his mobility, he lacked even the strength to stand. Soon, a familiar figure appeared in his line of sight.
It was A-Ye.
He saw the anxiety in those eyes, but being seen in such a state was unbearable. Yan Jue turned his head away in shame, curling up on the cold floor. Seeing this person cry for the first time, with the corners of his eyes flushed red and the light gone from his gaze, Qi Yelan felt as if a piece of his heart had been hollowed out.
Qi Yelan said nothing. He rushed forward and pulled Yan Jue into his arms, whispering comforts. “It is over. It is alright now.”
The person in his arms was very still, and even his sobbing was quiet. Soon, Qi Yelan felt his sleeve grow wet with tears. Fearing the man would become dehydrated if he continued to cry, he tried to pull him back slightly, but Yan Jue clung to him as if he had taken root in his embrace.
“Do not be afraid. I am here.” Qi Yelan comforted him repeatedly while helping him fix his clothes.
Perhaps from exhaustion or extreme terror, Yan Jue eventually fell into a deep sleep. Qi Yelan took off his own outer robe, wrapped him tightly, and carried him back to the guest room. By the time they returned, it was late at night. He lit a candle, the flickering flame revealing a clear, thin flush on Yan Jue’s face. It was no wonder he felt so hot; he had developed a fever.
Qi Yelan did not know much about caring for the sick. Fearing that cold water might make the fever worse, he regulated his own body temperature and used his own warmth to soothe the man. During the first half of the night, Qi Yelan returned to his true form and held Yan Jue tightly. Yan Jue, in turn, clung to his waist as if they could never be parted.
By midnight, the fever finally broke, and Yan Jue regained a bit of consciousness. Qi Yelan put his mask back on and prepared to leave, but he was pulled back again.
“Do not leave. Do not go,” Yan Jue mumbled.
Hearing the unconscious plea, Qi Yelan could not help but reach out to stroke that beautiful face. The smooth cheek felt like fine warm jade. He realized that at some unknown point, he had developed a different kind of feeling for this man. Initially, he had found him interesting and needed a companion to ease his long loneliness, in addition to the benefits of the Pure Jade Celestial Body. But now, he truly cared about this person’s emotions and thoughts.
Qi Yelan seemed unable to leave this man anymore, and it was no longer just about the celestial body. This person possessed something that attracted him and controlled his emotions. The closer he came to losing him, the clearer it became.
After a long moment, he held Wen Fuchen again, using A-Ye’s lean body to feel the other’s warmth and every heartbeat. In this moment, he felt the resonance of their hearts. All previous doubts were cast aside. This was Wen Fuchen. Regardless of what others said, this was Wen Fuchen.
“I will not leave,” A-Ye comforted him in his gentlest voice. In this moment, they were just two wandering souls depending on each other for survival. “Wen Fuchen, let us not part, alright?” Qi Yelan asked softly, certain the sleeping man would not answer.
“We will not part,” the dreaming man murmured back without waking.
Yan Jue woke up the next morning enveloped in warmth. He opened his eyes to see a sliver of light falling through the thin window paper. The dream was over. In the first half of the night, he had been haunted by terror, but in the second half, his mind had calmed. That familiar cold fragrance had entered his dream, forming a safe and solid wall that protected him.
The scent felt familiar, yet he could not quite place it. When he saw the figure leaning against his bedside, he recognized the silhouette instantly. Sensing his movement, the person at the bedside slowly looked up, revealing a tired face. It was clear he had not slept all night.
“A-Ye,” Yan Jue called out, feeling somewhat dazed. The events of the previous night were still vivid. Was it truly A-Ye who had saved him? But how could a mortal be a match for Feng Yu?