The oppressive atmosphere in the room became so heavy it was almost visible. Long Yin’s hand tightened around the waist of the person in his arms. His pupils could no longer be restrained, as they transformed completely into a dragon’s vertical slit pupils, radiating an overwhelming sense of pressure.
Feng Qingyun had just been secretly pleased by Long Yin’s silence. But the moment he looked up and met those dragon eyes, his heart turned cold, and he froze in place.
An instinctive terror, etched into his very bones, crept up his nerves. Snapping back to himself, Feng Qingyun instinctively tried to lean away. Instead, Long Yin’s arm locked firmly around his waist, trapping him in his embrace.
His outer robe had already been removed, leaving only a thin inner garment. The flimsy fabric did nothing to block Long Yin’s touch, and the heat of his palm burned against his waist.
Feng Qingyun’s eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.
Long Yin suddenly leaned in until the distance between them was closer than it had ever been.
“Did you agree to it?” he asked, his voice so dark and low it seemed ready to drip ink.
Feng Qingyun’s lashes quivered.
He had wanted to lie and say yes.
But when the words reached his lips, he suddenly feared that Long Yin might truly lose control if he heard that answer. So he lowered his gaze instead.
“…Not yet.”
Yet it was that simple word, yet, that stepped squarely on the tiger’s tail.
“…Not yet?” Long Yin gripped his waist as he forced the words out through gritted teeth, nearly pressing their noses together. “You actually considered it?”
He was so close that every breath he exhaled brushed across Feng Qingyun’s face.
Feng Qingyun unconsciously grasped the wrist resting on his waist as the tips of his ears turned crimson. The man before him was obviously furious enough to explode, his entire presence dangerous beyond words… And yet Feng Qingyun’s heart was pounding for an entirely different reason.
He simply wasn’t on the same wavelength at all, ah!
“…”
It was the confidence of someone who had been spoiled so thoroughly that he feared nothing. Deep down, he even wanted to provoke Long Yin just a little more, to see what sort of reaction he would get.
But in the end, he held back. Instead, he simply lifted those beautiful eyes and looked straight at Long Yin, asking, “And what’s it to you?”
Those simple words nearly made Long Yin cough up blood. For a brief instant, his expression darkened to an unprecedented degree, and Feng Qingyun’s heart skipped a beat. He had the sudden feeling that something very unfortunate was about to happen to him.
Yet the innocent little blood rose, who had never experienced such matters before, couldn’t even begin to imagine what Long Yin was thinking. And if he had known…
He probably would have burst into tears while calling Long Yin a shameless pervert.
In the end, however, Long Yin couldn’t bear to do anything to him. Even so, it took several deep breaths before he managed to suppress the violent possessiveness surging inside him. Then he remembered something his inner demon had told him back in the City of Mirrors.
“Love isn’t about imprisoning someone. It’s about letting them go. He’s never seen the outside world, but once he does… sooner or later, he’ll leave.”
Long Yin had never imagined that the day he had feared through countless sleepless nights…
…would arrive so soon.
He closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath, but even then, he couldn’t force his dragon eyes back to normal. Finally, he simply gave up trying to hide them and stared unblinkingly at the person in his arms.
“Do you really want to go outside and see the world?”
Feng Qingyun felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up under that gaze, and his eyes drifted away unconsciously.
“…Mm.”
Long Yin swallowed. After a long silence, as though making the hardest decision of his life, he slowly released Feng Qingyun’s waist, where red marks had nearly formed beneath his grip. Then he said softly, “…All right.”
Feng Qingyun hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. In fact, Long Yin didn’t even try to persuade him to stay! His eyes widened in shock as he turned to stare at him, and a moment later… Another wave of inexplicable anger rose inside him.
Long Yin blinked in confusion, for… he was completely dumbfounded. He genuinely had no idea how he had offended this little ancestor again.
Refusing wasn’t acceptable. Agreeing wasn’t acceptable either.
“…”
His mouth filled with bitterness.
But just as he was about to say something, Feng Qingyun’s expression turned cold. He pried Long Yin’s hands off him and shoved them aside, shouting, “Get out!”
“…”
Strictly speaking, this was Long Yin’s bedchamber, ah!
Feng Qingyun’s own residence was actually the larger palace next door, specially built for him by Long Yin before he had even taken human form. But Feng Qingyun disliked sleeping alone. So throughout the eighteen years since taking human form, he had almost always stayed in Long Yin’s chambers.
Only when he was angry would he return to his own spacious yet lonely palace, waiting for Long Yin to come coax him back.
But as his cultivation improved, Feng Qingyun’s need for sleep gradually diminished. Most of the time, even while cultivating, he insisted on leaning against Long Yin’s chest, refusing to let him leave for even a moment.
And yet…
This clingy little blood rose was now furiously telling Long Yin to get out.
Long Yin’s throat tightened from being scolded, but he still held Feng Qingyun gently and coaxed, “You’ve only just drunk my blood, and now you’re turning your back on me already?”
Feng Qingyun ignored him completely. He simply planted a hand against Long Yin’s shoulder, clearly intent on shoving the bastard away. Seeing that Feng Qingyun was determined to resist with violence, Long Yin had no choice but to say firmly, “You can go to the righteous sects.”
“But I haven’t finished stating my conditions.”
Feng Qingyun stopped. Turning around with blazing eyes, he snapped, “…Conditions?!”
Determined to get the pain over with all at once, Long Yin abandoned all hesitation and answered directly.
“I’m going with you.”
The moment those words were spoken, it was as if someone had suddenly seized Feng Qingyun’s throat, and the room fell completely silent. After a long while, Feng Qingyun’s attitude unexpectedly softened.
“…You’re coming with me?”
The same beautiful young man who moments ago had wanted to throw Long Yin out and never see him again… Suddenly changed his tune for no apparent reason.
Whether eighteen years old was simply a strange age or for some other reason, Long Yin honestly felt that these days he understood his little blood rose’s temper less and less. Still, seeing Feng Qingyun no longer rejecting him so fiercely, Long Yin quickly pulled him back into his embrace and soothed him softly.
“That fellow surnamed Mu is no good. I’m afraid he’ll trick you.”
Hearing Long Yin’s concern, Feng Qingyun struggled to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Still pretending to be aloof, he replied, “I’m not a three-year-old child. How could I possibly be fooled by him?”
“Yes, yes.” Long Yin gently rubbed his back as he laughed softly. “Our little blood rose became an adult the very day he took human form. How could he be a three-year-old?”
“So… Would Your Highness be so kind as to let this poor me come along? I promise not to cause you any trouble.”
“…I suppose that’s not impossible.” Feng Qingyun couldn’t help narrowing his eyes comfortably under the soothing strokes, though he still pretended to hesitate. “But the Righteous Path’s Heavenly Gate Ceremony probably won’t welcome the Demon Emperor.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Long Yin immediately answered. “I’ll disguise myself a little.”
Feng Qingyun glanced sideways at him. Inside, he was already overjoyed. Outwardly, however, he feigned reluctant consideration.
“…Since you want to go so badly… fine.”
His satisfaction was practically written across his face, but unfortunately, Long Yin was too worried to notice. Seeing that Feng Qingyun no longer seemed intent on throwing him out, Long Yin finally breathed a sigh of relief. Wrapping an arm around his waist again, he deliberately changed the subject.
“Are you full now? Still hungry?”
“I’m full of anger.” Feng Qingyun let out a small huff.
Long Yin instinctively wanted to apologize. But as if he already knew what he was about to say, Feng Qingyun cut him off coolly.
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear the words I’m sorry.”
Long Yin immediately fell silent. Taking advantage of the quiet, Feng Qingyun leaned comfortably against him and idly played with a strand of his hair, asking, “Where have you been staying these past few days?”
For a moment, Long Yin didn’t even process the question. His gaze had instead fallen to the slender curve of Feng Qingyun’s waist, made all the more alluring by the way he was leaning against him.
Feng Qingyun had always been slim. Before, it had been the healthy, toned leanness of youth. But after starving himself for several days, that waist now carried a fragile delicacy that was at once heartbreaking…
…and enough to awaken the urge to crush him against one’s chest.
Sunlight streamed through the window, filtering through the thin fabric of his inner robe and casting a hazy glow over the curve of his waist. The faint outline beneath the cloth was maddeningly enticing.
When no answer came after a long pause, Feng Qingyun grew annoyed, so he tugged sharply on Long Yin’s hair.
“I’m talking to you.”
Long Yin snapped back to his senses and hurriedly looked away.
“…I’m the Demon Emperor. In the Demon World, I can stay wherever I please. What demon cultivator would dare refuse me? It’s not as if I’d end up sleeping on the streets.”
Looking up at him from below, Feng Qingyun somehow managed to make the angle look impossibly haughty.
“Oh?”
“So whose house were you staying at?”
Long Yin: “…”
At that moment, he felt more wronged than anyone under heaven!
“I wasn’t staying at anyone’s house! That was just a figure of speech!”
“Then you were sleeping on the streets.” Feng Qingyun gave a soft snort.
“…”
Long Yin… Long Yin had no response.
He certainly couldn’t admit that he had gone to the City of Mirrors, where he had seen a version of his own inner demon a hundred times more depraved than he’d ever imagined.
After that, he found it even harder to look Feng Qingyun in the eye.
For example… At this very moment, Feng Qingyun was simply leaning comfortably against him, chatting as casually as ever. Yet what occupied Long Yin’s mind was tying Feng Qingyun’s sash over those beautiful eyes, listening to him sob and call him husband, kneeling as he promised never to speak to another wild man again.
But in the end, however, not a trace of those dark thoughts showed on his face. He merely lowered his head against Feng Qingyun’s shoulder, hiding the darkness in his eyes.
However, Feng Qingyun misunderstood the gesture entirely. With an undisguised snort of amusement, he reached out and lightly tapped Long Yin on the nose, saying, “What a coward.”
Though every word dripped with mockery, his heart softened all the same.
……………………….
Over the next few days, he treated Long Yin with unexpected warmth, as though their earlier argument had never happened. His moods changed faster than the turning of a page.
The demon attendants throughout the palace watched in utter confusion, unable to make sense of what exactly was going on between the two of them.
Seven days before the Heavenly Gate Ceremony, Long Yin finally coaxed the truth out of Feng Qingyun. Back then, Mu Hanyang hadn’t merely invited him verbally.
He had also given him a formal invitation.
The moment Long Yin saw the invitation, his face darkened so thoroughly that it looked as though he wanted to tear it into pieces on the spot. Somehow…
He managed to restrain himself, and at last, the day of departure arrived.
Yet Feng Qingyun was nowhere near as excited as he had imagined he would be. Just as Long Yin had promised, he completely concealed his cultivation, but… even the face Feng Qingyun loved most had been disguised!
Instead, “someone” followed quietly behind Feng Qingyun, looking every bit like an ordinary, loyal servant. Arms folded, Feng Qingyun stood there staring at him for a long while.
His little face gradually darkened.
One look was enough to tell that the young master was unhappy again, and Long Yin’s heart tightened with bitterness. Even so, he hurried over to coax him.
“The Heavenly Gate Ceremony will be crowded with cultivators from every corner. Many of them have seen me before. One look at my face would expose my identity.”
“It wouldn’t be convenient for you.”
“Be good. Don’t make trouble.”
His voice remained gentle. Yet inwardly he couldn’t help thinking:
My little blood rose really only likes my face. Without these outward appearances… perhaps, to him, I’d be nothing more than the person who raised him.
As Long Yin silently swallowed that bitterness… Feng Qingyun was angry as well. Only, he was angry with himself. Because of one moment of childish stubbornness, Long Yin had willingly hidden both the face he was proud of and the overwhelming strength that defined him…
Simply to stand quietly at Feng Qingyun’s side.
Watching Long Yin carefully coax him only made Feng Qingyun’s chest ache with a complicated mix of guilt, tenderness, and frustration. The worst part was that he knew perfectly well he was angry at himself, but he was too embarrassed to admit it.
So he merely pressed his lips together and stayed silent.
Fortunately, that unpleasant mood didn’t last long. The moment they left the Demon World for the first time, everything unfolded exactly as Long Yin’s inner demon had predicted.
The vast world dazzled the eye, and even something as ordinary as a goldfish caught Feng Qingyun’s attention. His eyes widened in amazement, and every trace of his earlier irritation vanished. Behind him, however, Long Yin’s spirits sank lower and lower with every step they took.
As they walked through the bustling streets, they came across an elderly woman selling candied hawthorn skewers. Feng Qingyun’s eyes immediately lit up, and he picked up a skewer without hesitation.
While Long Yin was still paying for it, Feng Qingyun eagerly bit into one.
However, the sweetness lasted only an instant. The next moment, the sourness hit him so hard that his entire face scrunched together.
Unlike people raised on sayings such as endure hardship today to rise above others tomorrow, Feng Qingyun had never learned to force himself to eat something he disliked simply to avoid wasting food.
The greatest grievance he’d suffered in eighteen years was probably having his confession rejected. So without the slightest hesitation, he stuffed the half-bitten hawthorn straight into Long Yin’s mouth while the latter was still paying.
“Too sour!”
“I’m not eating it.”
Then he frowned at the sticky syrup coating his fingers. Without saying a word, he simply looked up at Long Yin expectantly.
Long Yin found the sight unbearably adorable, so much that he nearly laughed, but he didn’t dare. Afraid Feng Qingyun would become embarrassed and angry again, he obediently bit down on the candied hawthorn while pulling out a handkerchief to carefully wipe the sticky syrup from Feng Qingyun’s fingers.
Only then did his little ancestor’s mood visibly improve.
Unfortunately… The entire exchange had been witnessed by someone else.
Feng Qingyun bought a piece of steamed sponge cake next. This time it wasn’t sour, and he was happily eating it when an untimely voice called out from behind him.
“Young Master, please wait!”
The instant Long Yin heard that voice…
His expression turned frighteningly dark.
Feng Qingyun stopped and turned around, still holding the cake between his teeth. Mu Hanyang stood there with a group of companions. Smiling, he bowed politely.
“It has been three years since we last met. Your grace is as transcendent as ever, Young Master, as though an immortal had descended among mortals.”
“I wonder if you still remember me?”
Feng Qingyun gave him a brief once-over. He had intended to exchange a few polite words and leave, but from the corner of his eye he noticed Long Yin’s face, dark as the bottom of a pot.
His steps paused.
After swallowing the bite of cake in his mouth, he replied, “I remember.”
“You’re the sword cultivator who said my swordsmanship wasn’t good enough.”
Mu Hanyang blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting to have been remembered. Recovering quickly, he smiled as he answered, “I never meant it that way.”
“With your natural talent, Young Master… remaining under your current teacher is rather like casting a priceless pearl into the dust.”
But the instant Feng Qingyun heard those words, it was his face’s turn to darken. He raised his eyes and looked coldly at Mu Hanyang, and only then did Mu Hanyang realize he’d misspoken as he hurriedly corrected himself, “My friends and I were just about to gather at Bifang Pavilion.”
“If Young Master would honor us with your company, would you care to join us for a while?”
Long Yin already looked as though he were calculating the consequences of killing Sword Master Zhong Yulan’s first disciple. Yet after silently studying Mu Hanyang for a long moment, Feng Qingyun merely said indifferently, “Then let’s go.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he felt an incredulous, burning gaze fixed upon him. The corners of Feng Qingyun’s lips lifted almost imperceptibly. Without turning around, he called, “Long’er, keep up!”
Long Yin: “…”
Bifang Pavilion in the Kingdom of Jinlin was famous throughout the cultivation world, but after arriving, Feng Qingyun glanced around and found nothing particularly novel about it. Mu Hanyang and his companions instinctively stepped aside to let him take the seat of honor. To everyone’s surprise, Feng Qingyun accepted without the slightest hesitation, pulling Long Yin down beside him as he sat.
Mu Hanyang paused in surprise, but quickly recovered and invited the others to take their seats as well. Once everyone was seated, he smiled and poured Feng Qingyun a cup of wine, saying, “Three years ago, Young Master and I met as kindred spirits.” He poured himself a cup as well. “Now that fate has reunited us across mountains and seas, allow me to offer this toast.”
Feng Qingyun lowered his eyes to the wine but made no move to pick it up, saying instead, “I don’t like drinking.”
Mu Hanyang paused. “Is it because…” he asked, “your guardian won’t allow you to?”
At such an obvious attempt to sow discord, Long Yin’s gaze toward him practically turned murderous. Feng Qingyun, however, completely missed the implication. Still, he frowned, commenting, “I don’t like it because I don’t like it.”
“How could he possibly control me?”
At that, Mu Hanyang blinked. He hadn’t expected Feng Qingyun to seem even more spoiled than he had three years ago. Nor did he detect the boundless intimacy hidden in those words. Instead, he assumed Feng Qingyun had secretly slipped away from home with nothing but a servant in tow.
It seemed the relationship between him and the Demon Emperor had deteriorated considerably…
So Mu Hanyang smiled. “Young Master doesn’t know this, but among us righteous cultivators, every man ought to know how to drink,” he coaxed, and his companions immediately voiced their agreement.
At that, Feng Qingyun’s beautiful brows knitted together, complaining, “It’s bitter and spicy. What’s so enjoyable about it?”
Unfortunately, Mu Hanyang’s confidence in this particular subject bordered on excessive. Rather than realizing Feng Qingyun was becoming irritated, he only smiled wider.
“The pleasures of wine are impossible to describe fully; even an entire ode couldn’t do it justice.” Then he continued earnestly, “Young Master, your guardian has raised you like a delicate flower, but he hasn’t raised you into a man capable of enduring hardship!”
“You can’t even drink a cup of wine. How will you survive once you enter the wider world?”
“He’s harming you, whether he realizes it or not…”
“But I am a flower,” Feng Qingyun cut him off matter-of-factly, as though stating the most obvious truth in the world. “Who wants to be like you smelly human men?”
Silence.
The entire room froze. Everyone stared at Mu Hanyang in utter shock, wondering where exactly he’d found such an exquisitely beautiful young man with such a venomous tongue.
Only Long Yin, seated quietly in the corner, cleared his throat, barely suppressing the smile threatening to spread across his face.
Mu Hanyang could hardly keep the embarrassment from showing. As the Sword Master’s foremost disciple, he was accustomed to admiration wherever he went, so he had never experienced anything like this.
Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to suppress his temper.
“They say honest words are unpleasant to hear, and good medicine tastes bitter,” he finally said. “Young Master can’t even accept advice given with good intentions.”
“Your guardian has clearly spoiled you far too…”
Before he could finish, Feng Qingyun had had enough. Without warning, he picked up the untouched cup of wine and splashed its contents directly into Mu Hanyang’s face.
“I hate people telling me what to do. What makes you think you’re qualified to teach me anything?”
Dead silence fell over the room as every cultivator present was stunned. Feng Qingyun rose to his feet, his expression icy.
“I only came today to tell you one thing,” he continued. “Your junior disciple position. Your palace master’s position.”
“I don’t care about either.”
“Swordsmanship has nothing to do with righteousness or evil.”
“Three days from now, at the Heavenly Gate Ceremony…”
“Wait for me.”
“I’ll defeat you with a single sword strike.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the entire room frozen in disbelief. Only when Feng Qingyun had nearly reached the doorway did the cultivators finally recover their senses. Several slammed their hands against the table and started to stand, when suddenly…
An immense, invisible pressure descended from nowhere, crushing everyone back into their seats.
Every person in the room froze. For that single instant, they felt like rabbits caught beneath the gaze of an enormous, merciless beast, and not one of them dared move.
The only person completely unaware of what had happened was Feng Qingyun. Even so, he paused and turned back, glaring fiercely at Long Yin, shouting, “What are you standing there grinning for?!”
“Hurry up and come!”
Long Yin immediately wiped the smile from his face and obediently followed. Just before stepping through the doorway, however, he casually cast one final glance at Mu Hanyang.
Drenched in wine, Mu Hanyang suddenly felt as though he had fallen into an icy abyss. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to recover for a long time.
By the time they left the restaurant, dusk had begun to settle over the city. The two of them walked quietly through the streets. Only after Feng Qingyun’s anger had finally subsided did he suddenly ask, “So…”
“What does wine actually taste like?”
“Bitter and spicy,” Long Yin chuckled softly. “It tastes awful. Didn’t you already say that yourself?”
The very same Feng Qingyun who had loudly declared earlier that he hated being told what to do now pressed his lips together before turning to Long Yin.
“I want to try it.”
Though it sounded like a simple statement… Only the two of them understood what it truly meant. He was asking his guardian for permission.
The corners of Long Yin’s lips lifted almost imperceptibly, answering, “The wine outside isn’t clean.”
In other words…
He agreed.
Feng Qingyun paused, delight immediately flashing across his eyes as he thought:
He hadn’t even allowed me to drink on my eighteenth birthday… Coming to that ridiculous banquet really was the right decision.
That evening, the two rented a room at an inn in the Kingdom of Jinlin, but the room wasn’t large. There was only enough space for a bed and a small table. A little tray had been placed atop the bed, holding several dishes Long Yin had personally prepared in the inn’s kitchen, along with fruits he’d brought from the Demon World, all of Feng Qingyun’s favorites.
But today, Feng Qingyun’s attention wasn’t on the food. Instead, he watched without blinking as Long Yin produced a jar of fine wine from his storage ring.
It was nothing like the wine Mu Hanyang had served, and the rich fragrance filled the entire room the moment it was opened. Under the flickering candlelight, the already cramped room felt even smaller, nothing like the spacious bedchamber back in the Demon Palace.
Yet within that confined space…
The atmosphere felt entirely different.
Long Yin had also restored his true appearance. He settled across from Feng Qingyun, lifted the wine pot, and slowly poured him a cup before sliding it across the table. Then he washed his hands and began peeling shrimp and fruit for him.
It was something he’d done countless times over the past eighteen years, yet beneath the soft, amber glow of the candlelight… The ordinary act somehow took on an entirely different meaning.
Like a husband quietly caring for his beloved after marriage.
Enough to make one’s heart race. Only when a peeled shrimp was held before his lips did Feng Qingyun finally snap out of his daze. Flustered, he lowered his head. As though trying to hide his embarrassment, he picked up the wine cup.
Before Long Yin could stop him… He drained the entire cup in one gulp. The burning spice exploded across his tongue, and Feng Qingyun stared blankly for several seconds before breaking into a violent coughing fit. His entire face flushed crimson almost instantly.
Long Yin hurried to his side, gathering him carefully into his arms while gently patting his back.
“No one drinks their first cup like that…”
He stopped mid-sentence. An overwhelming fragrance of roses, intertwined with the scent of wine, suddenly burst through the tiny room with unprecedented intensity, making Long Yin freeze.
Even his hand stopped moving. For a long while… He couldn’t say another word.
Feng Qingyun, meanwhile, had no idea anything unusual had happened. He merely assumed the warmth spreading through him was the effect of the alcohol. The wine Long Yin had opened was an exceptionally old spiritual vintage, and its aftereffects were astonishingly strong.
By the time Feng Qingyun finally stopped coughing… Both his sobriety and his reason had nearly vanished. He swayed unsteadily before leaning bonelessly into Long Yin’s embrace, clingy beyond belief.
“Your wine isn’t very good either…”
“It’s still bitter and spicy…”
“Pour me another cup.”
His words no longer made much sense. Holding him securely, Long Yin murmured, “…You’re already drunk.”
“You can’t drink any more.”
Yet even as he said it, he found himself a hypocrite. One hand refused to leave Feng Qingyun’s waist. The other reached across the table, picked up the wine pot…
…and poured him another small cup.
But after several more cups, the fragrance of roses inside the room became richer than ever before, and Feng Qingyun could barely lift the cup himself.
Still, he stubbornly insisted on drinking.
Helpless, Long Yin held the cup to his lips himself. Afterward, he fed him vegetables and peeled fruits to ease the lingering burn. Swallowing a grape, Feng Qingyun yawned as he nestled against Long Yin’s chest, moisture clinging to his eyelashes.
“Mu Hanyang did say one thing that was right…”
The mere mention of that name irritated Long Yin now. Hearing it while Feng Qingyun was sitting in his arms irritated him even more, and his voice darkened.
“What did he say?”
With lowered eyes, Feng Qingyun murmured, “You really have spoiled me.”
Long Yin immediately replied through gritted teeth, “I already told you that bastard surnamed Mu had improper intentions toward you.”
“Don’t listen to his nonsense.”
As though determined to prove his point, he launched into a lengthy list of evidence demonstrating exactly why Mu Hanyang was no good, but Feng Qingyun couldn’t have cared less.
He had no interest whatsoever in Mu Hanyang.
Another sleepy yawn escaped him before he interrupted bluntly, “You said he has improper intentions toward me, but…”
“What about you?”
Long Yin froze. Feigning composure, he asked, “What about me?”
“You act so convincingly.” The wine had left Feng Qingyun’s voice soft and languid. “Do you really think I’m stupid?” Hooking his arms around Long Yin’s shoulders, he leaned close to whisper beside his ear, “On my eighteenth birthday… While I was pretending to be asleep…”
“When you held me…”
“Did you think I didn’t notice your reaction?”
The room fell into a silence deeper than ever before, and only the thick fragrance of roses lingered in the air. Feng Qingyun looked up at the handsome man, who had gone completely rigid. A rosy flush colored his cheeks.
Smiling faintly, he cupped Long Yin’s face with both hands, turning him back toward himself. His breath carried the scent of wine and roses as he whispered beside his lips,
“Just like you are now.”
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