Chapter 81
Chapter 81
The long night ended in dawn.
As though nothing had happened, Qiao Ying dressed, got out of bed, and began washing and grooming.
While combing her black hair before the dressing table, her eyes wandered through the bronze mirror to the young man still curled lazily in bed.
He looked sleepy, his pale face haggard. His seated body remained slender. The quilt slipped away, leaving him in only a loose white robe, open at the chest, with white hair spilling around his exposed shoulders.
The intimate marks scattered across that snow-fashioned body were particularly conspicuous.
Usually so gentle, he now leaned against the headboard facing Qiao Ying. Beneath the white silk blindfold, his nose remained elegant, while overindulgence had deepened the color of his beautifully curved lips. He looked exactly like a pitiful scholar whose essence had been drained by an Evil Yaoguai captivated by his beauty.
Qiao Ying remembered the absurd events from darkness until dawn. Only now did embarrassment arrive. Clearing her throat, she turned.
“Would you like to sleep longer and rest?”
Shen Qingyu smiled. “Will you sleep with me?”
“No,” she answered decisively.
“Why?”
Shen Qingyu relaxed languidly against the headboard, unconcerned as his thin robe slipped farther, revealing even more than his white hair could conceal.
He knew Qiao Ying liked his body.
Even now, he sensed the changes in her gaze and breathing.
How interesting.
She had caressed his body countless times during the night, yet he could still entice her now.
How much did she like him?
Very, very… very much, surely.
His smile deepened. He pressed his lips together, deliberately reopening the nearly healed bite at their corner. She had left the wound and its pain upon his body. He liked it immensely.
Wind stirred.
The girl’s fingertip had already reached his lips, pressing lightly against the edge and stopping his self-destructive movement.
The young man lifted his face and “looked” at her with a smile.
He said nothing, but every trace of delight around him seemed to invite her: Continue. It does not matter if you make me worse.
Qiao Ying squeezed onto the bed beside him. Studying the wound he had repeatedly worried open, she muttered, “You always heal quickly. Why hasn’t this injury disappeared?”
She did not know he had preserved it deliberately.
Shen Qingyu seemed pleased to possess a small secret. He rubbed his cheek against her palm. Strands of white hair moved behind him like a fluffy tail wagging with joy.
“Yingying,” he called softly.
It was strange.
Qiao Ying had heard him say her name countless times, yet after last night, his tone sounded unusually clingy.
“Why won’t you sleep with me?”
Qiao Ying answered righteously, “I’m afraid I won’t control myself.”
“Control what?” he asked curiously.
“I might drain every drop of your vital essence.”
He froze, then laughed brightly. Leaning toward her face like a creature born to bewitch hearts, he said with a smile, “Yingying, I cannot die.”
Qiao Ying moved closer until their breaths mingled. She answered each word with solemn care.
“But you would suffer.”
Shen Qingyu could no longer smile.
Everyone existed because they possessed value; the only difference was its degree.
Shen Qingyu had long known that his value lay in satisfying others’ desires. When those desires were fulfilled, people became ecstatic and “liked” him even more.
Qiao Ying desired neither wealth and power nor immortality. Her desire was simply him.
That made him want to offer every part of himself, endlessly filling her seemingly bottomless hunger.
Yet now Qiao Ying did not want that satisfaction because she did not wish his body to suffer.
Shen Qingyu found himself in unfamiliar territory and could not understand it.
Once he stopped deliberately worrying it, the wound at his lip began healing. Before long, every trace of blood vanished.
Qiao Ying removed her finger and negotiated with him. “Didn’t we agree that I would learn to be a good wife and you would learn to be a good husband? The first rule for a good husband is protecting your body. From today onward, you must avoid injury and pain.”
“Why?” he asked.
Qiao Ying gave him a stern look. “Because your body belongs to me now. You must take responsibility.”
Shen Qingyu understood only vaguely.
“Which of us knows how to be human?” she asked.
“You do.”
“Then when it comes to being human, should you listen to me?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“And if I say your body belongs to me and you must protect it, should you listen?”
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“Then it’s settled. From now on, you may do nothing that makes your body suffer.”
Shen Qingyu smiled. “All right.”
Finally satisfied, Qiao Ying gathered his loose, nearly fallen robe and covered his half-bare body. Her voice softened. “Would you like to sleep again?”
Shen Qingyu’s lips moved, but she added, “You aren’t allowed to force yourself.”
After a moment, he slowly nodded. “I would.”
“Then sleep.”
Shen Qingyu lay back. He could sense Qiao Ying seated beside the bed, watching over him. Still not reassured, he extended a hand from the quilt and caught hers. Only then did his chest feel full.
After having his vital essence repeatedly drained throughout the night, the young man finally slept soundly.
His sleep was deep. More than half the day passed, and dusk approached before he recovered and woke.
Qiao Ying had been trapped by his hand and unable to go anywhere. Relieved to see him awake, she dragged him out of bed and demanded he find her food before she starved.
The Blood Moon had vanished. Even the gray sky that perpetually covered the manor seemed thinned by the wind. Perhaps it was only Qiao Ying’s imagination, but much of the Yin energy and bloody stench had dispersed.
The manor was unusually quiet. Every constantly working figure wearing that identical smile had disappeared without a trace.