The moment Feng Qingyun said those words, silence descended over the room. Only increasingly heavy breathing remained, along with the rich fragrance of roses so dense it seemed ready to condense into droplets.
Leaning comfortably against Long Yin’s chest, Feng Qingyun looked at him through half-lidded, wine-hazed eyes.
Long Yin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long silence, he finally forced out a strained reply.
“…Be good. You’re drunk.”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
His deep voice exploded beside Feng Qingyun’s ear, making his heart tremble. Feng Qingyun stared blankly for a moment before his brows immediately knitted together in displeasure. Without hesitation, he reached downward, saying, “I’m not talking nonsense.”
“You know perfectly well what you did. Are you afraid people will mention it?”
He insisted he wasn’t drunk, but in reality, he was drunk out of his mind. His hand showed absolutely no restraint, and Long Yin nearly suffered permanent damage, sucking in a sharp breath.
“…You!”
Feng Qingyun glared up at him with wide eyes.
“What about me?”
Long Yin took a deep breath and forcibly swallowed whatever he had been about to say.
“…Nothing.”
Feng Qingyun clearly intended to keep pressing the issue. Instead, Long Yin lowered his head and gently kissed his cheek, coaxing, “Be good. Stop making trouble.”
“If drinking makes you uncomfortable, go to sleep.”
The kiss left Feng Qingyun momentarily stunned. Still nestled in his arms, the beauty stubbornly asked, “Do you really not like me?”
“…How could I not?” Long Yin lowered his eyes. “It’s only because you’re still too young, and blood roses instinctively grow attached to the one who nurtures them.”
“When you’re older… when you can distinguish whether what you feel is truly love or simply admiration… Only then can I answer you. Otherwise… wouldn’t I just be taking advantage of you?” As he spoke, he gently kissed the other’s cheek again, continuing, “I’ll always wait where I am until you’ve figured it out. And if one day you discover that the person you love isn’t me… You don’t need to feel guilty.”
“Just walk forward without hesitation.”
Long Yin looked every bit the gentle, devoted lover. Only he himself knew how much it hurt to utter the latter half of those words. Unfortunately, every word spoken from the depths of his heart fell on deaf ears.
Feng Qingyun simply stared at him without blinking. After a long silence, he slowly let go of Long Yin. Biting his lower lip, his eyes instantly reddened, and tears welled in them, threatening to spill at any moment.
I’ve already gone this far… and he’s still enduring it. He says he likes me. He says he’ll wait for me, but those are nothing but lies meant to comfort a child.
Demons were passionate by nature, so if the mighty Demon Emperor truly loved someone… How could he remain this calm?!
Therefore, everything pointed to only one conclusion.
He didn’t love him.
From beginning to end, it had only been Feng Qingyun loving him alone. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. The more wronged he felt.
He had only existed in this world for eighteen years, and never once had he suffered such a crushing setback. Now, with the alcohol amplifying every emotion, he twisted his waist, struggling to climb out of Long Yin’s embrace.
But Long Yin hated seeing him wear that stubborn, tearful expression more than anything, and his heart shattered. Immediately wrapping his arms around him, he coaxed gently, “Why are you crying all of a sudden? It’s all my fault; I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“I won’t say them again. Don’t cry… be good.”
“I’m not crying for no reason…!”
If Long Yin hadn’t comforted him, perhaps he could have endured, but the moment he did, Feng Qingyun’s nose instantly stung. Wiping at his tears, he snapped, “Let go of me!”
“I don’t want you anymore!”
Deep down, he felt as though he were the one being abandoned, yet stubbornly, he insisted it was he who was abandoning the other. Long Yin paused ever so slightly, and a flash of darkness crossed his eyes. Three seconds later, he patiently asked, “If you don’t want me anymore…”
“Then who do you want?”
“…Anyone!”
“I’ll go to the Xiān Gōng Sect and become that Mu fellow’s Junior Brother!”
“Or I’ll return to the Demon World!”
“Anyone but you!”
Clearly furious beyond reason, Feng Qingyun slapped away Long Yin’s hand, his voice trembling with tears.
“So in your eyes, I’m just some flower demon who falls in love with whoever raises me?! You don’t even like me, so what right do you have to care who I go to?!”
Every word pierced directly into Long Yin’s heart.
If he didn’t love him…
Why had he let him drink his blood for years without complaint?
If he didn’t love him…
Why had he indulged every whim, willing to pluck stars from the heavens if only Feng Qingyun asked?
But love…
Had never been selfless.
Sometimes, what masqueraded as generosity and restraint only served to push the one you loved farther and farther away. All of Long Yin’s talk about waiting, all of his patience… The instant Feng Qingyun truly threatened to leave, it shattered completely.
What remained beneath was something dark, something that had never been meant to see daylight, yet Feng Qingyun mistook his silence for confirmation.
Like a furnace finally igniting, he exploded.
“Weren’t you the one who said I’d stop liking you someday?!”
“Fine!”
“Then let’s start today!”
“I won’t even return to the Demon Palace with you!”
“You can stay there all by yourself…”
“Mmph!”
The world finally fell silent.
Under the cover of night, Feng Qingyun’s eyes flew open in shock as he stared unblinkingly at the man above him. Long Yin’s expression had darkened to its absolute limit. One hand held him firmly in place, and his lips were pried open without mercy.
Long Yin invaded his mouth with overwhelming force, but Feng Qingyun had absolutely no idea how to respond. Only moments ago, the flower demon had been crying and shouting.
Now…
He had been kissed so thoroughly that his mind went blank, but this kiss was nothing like what he had imagined. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t tender, and there was none of the romance or poetic sweetness he had dreamed of. Only a tingling numbness so intense it made his entire body tremble.
The intimate sounds echoed right beside his ears.
“Mmm…”
His tongue had nearly gone numb from being sucked so relentlessly. Unable to bear it any longer, he pressed both hands against Long Yin’s shoulders, weakly trying to push him away. Just when Feng Qingyun’s breathing grew increasingly ragged, Long Yin finally released him.
Silence once again settled over the room, and only the sound of desperate gasps for air remained. Neither of them spoke.
The Feng Qingyun who had been crying and demanding an answer moments before had somehow become unusually quiet. After finally catching his breath, he lifted a hand to wipe the corner of his mouth. Carefully raising his eyes toward the man before him, he muttered in a small voice, “…Why did you suddenly go crazy?”
Ordinarily, such a bluff, so fierce on the outside yet so timid underneath, would have earned him endless teasing from Long Yin.
But tonight…
Long Yin had no heart to laugh. His eyes seemed to hide a current of darkness that refused to dissipate, yet his voice was calm to the point of being frightening.
“Say it again. Who do you want to go to?”
Feng Qingyun’s heart trembled. Though he was terrified, he still clung stubbornly to his pride, tears hanging from his lashes.
“…That’s none of your business.”
Long Yin said nothing, but slowly raised a hand, and Feng Qingyun’s lashes quivered. For a moment, he thought the man was about to strike him, yet he forced himself not to close his eyes, stubbornly meeting his gaze.
As it turned out, he’d guessed correctly. Even when Long Yin was furious enough to want to teach him a lesson, he could never bring himself to hurt Feng Qingyun. That hand merely settled beneath his chin, lifting his face.
“You keep saying you like me.” Long Yin held his gaze without blinking. “Do you still?”
After seeing even one ten-thousandth of my obsession… do you still like me?
Feng Qingyun’s tears had barely dried before he opened his mouth to retort.
“Who would like you? From today on I don’t…!”
Before he could finish, Long Yin’s thumb brushed over his lower lip, slipping into his mouth and pressing gently against his tongue.
“Say it again,” his voice remained perfectly even.
This was nothing like the Long Yin Feng Qingyun had always known. Every word made his heart tremble, and the haze of alcohol cleared from his mind by half. Yet stubbornness was carved into his bones. He would sooner break than bend.
Instead of answering, he took a deep breath and shot back, “…Then do you like me?”
Long Yin continued holding his chin, staring at him without looking away. The emotions in those dragon eyes had become so overwhelming they were nearly spilling over.
“If I didn’t,” he asked quietly, “would I have spent almost twenty years feeding you my own blood?”
At that, Feng Qingyun merely let out a cold snort and turned his face aside. “I don’t believe you… Family members would willingly treat each other well too. Someone told me…” he continued. As he spoke, his confidence slowly returned. Twisting back around, he glared at Long Yin with complete certainty.
“They said love isn’t selflessness or restraint. It’s obsession and desire.”
“You’ve never shown me any of that.”
“So how are you supposed to prove you love me?”
“…”
He was still far too young. To him, all of Long Yin’s devotion was nothing more than familial affection, never something born of romantic love. The irony was almost laughable, for Feng Qingyun was accusing Long Yin of never harboring obsession or desire for him.
Long Yin closed his eyes and took a slow, steady breath.
When he opened them again, he didn’t ask who this mysterious “someone” was. Instead, he abruptly asked something that seemed entirely unrelated.
“Do you know you’re about to bloom?”
Feng Qingyun froze, and his eyes widened in genuine surprise.
He clearly had no idea.
“You wanted to know whether I truly have desires for you.” Long Yin leaned so close their noses nearly touched, his voice dropping into a whisper.
“Then once you see them…”
“…you’d better endure it.”
“You’re not allowed to bloom here.”
Feng Qingyun wanted to curse him.
You bastard! What does it have to do with you where I bloom? I could bloom in the Underworld if I wanted to!
But the words never left his lips, for Long Yin caught his chin once more and kissed him.
This kiss was different from the fierce, possessive one before, and it was closer to everything Feng Qingyun had imagined a kiss should be. Lingering, tender, and overflowing with affection. Yet beneath that gentle surface lurked something impossible to describe…
Something unmistakably sensual.
Feng Qingyun had never encountered anything like it, and his mind went completely blank beneath the kiss. By the time he came back to himself, the tips of his ears were burning crimson. He hadn’t even realized that the sash of his inner robe had already been loosened, leaving the garment hanging loosely from his body.
Fragrant robes.
Shadowed temples.
Flickering candlelight.
The still silhouettes inside the room gradually began to tremble beneath the wavering glow. A startled cry soon broke the silence, mingled with the sound of water, but moments later, the cry became a string of shocked curses.
After an unknown length of time, even the scolding faded into those intimate, water-soft sounds, until all that remained were quiet, pitiful sobs.
People often said that beauty was best admired beneath lamplight. At this moment, Long Yin alone enjoyed such a sight. Under the warm golden glow, the little blood rose he had raised with his own hands was crying so hard he looked ready to melt into tears.
His arms circled Long Yin’s neck, his entire body trembling, snowy-white inner robes hanging half-open around him. Long Yin held him securely around the waist and asked softly, “Do you want to bloom now?”
Tears still clinging to his lashes, Feng Qingyun nodded. Then he immediately shook his head.
The nod meant yes.
The shake meant he didn’t dare bloom here.
Seeing that, Long Yin rewarded him with a gentle kiss to the lips. One hand rose to brush away the sweat and tears covering his face.
“Good.”
Feng Qingyun let out a tiny whimper and buried himself against Long Yin’s shoulder, his voice thick with tears.
“I was wrong… I was wrong…”
The proud little beauty who had been bullied until even his flower buds seemed ready to curl up had completely lost his earlier arrogance. He melted bonelessly into Long Yin’s embrace, clinging to him with shameless sweetness, his smooth legs tightening instinctively as though seeking the slightest chance of escape.
“I can’t anymore… I really can’t anymore… Long Yin…”
The sound was no different from a kitten mewling for affection. Even a saint would probably have softened, but unfortunately, the Demon Emperor was anything but ordinary.
Long Yin remained unmoved. Holding him firmly by the waist, he calmly settled an old score.
“You’ve barely lasted the time it takes an incense stick to burn, and you’re already saying you can’t continue. With a temper this delicate, who exactly were you planning to run away with?”
“That Mu fellow?”
“Do you think you could even keep up with the Xiān Gōng Sect’s morning sword practice? Or would you smash their training grounds in a fit of morning temper before the day’s even begun?”
“…I wasn’t.” Feng Qingyun’s heart quivered. Kneeling amid the rumpled bedding, he clung to Long Yin’s wrist as quiet sobs escaped him. “I only wanted to provoke you…”
“I never wanted to leave with anyone…”
The flower demon, stubborn as a little mule, had finally surrendered. He had no choice but to admit that however clever he thought himself, Long Yin was always one step ahead. By now, his waist ached from exhaustion, and tears rolled endlessly down his cheeks like beads from a broken string.
Long Yin gently kissed away those tears. His voice remained impossibly gentle, saying, “But our Little Rose got exactly what he wanted, didn’t he?”
“You should be happy.”
“So why are you crying?”
Hearing those words only made Feng Qingyun cry harder. Long Yin simply gazed down at him without blinking, but the possessiveness twisting in his eyes was laid completely bare.
Terrified, Feng Qingyun backed away while crying. Unfortunately, the small table where they had shared their wine earlier stood directly behind him, so there was nowhere left to retreat. His back pressed helplessly against it, regret flooding through him until it felt as though his very intestines had turned green.
He was like a poor little rose on the verge of blooming, only to have someone seize the flower’s calyx and forcibly forbid it from opening.
And while denying the flower permission to bloom, that very same person insisted on slowly coaxing apart its petals himself, intent on seeing whether the blossom’s hidden heart had finally ripened.
Feng Qingyun was tormented into utter embarrassment, his face flushed bright red. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to cry and bury himself in a crack in the floor, yet the man beside him had become unexpectedly talkative, holding his hand and chattering into his ear without pause.
“Didn’t you say I don’t have any ‘desire’ for you, so it doesn’t count as liking you? Then I’ll tell you now…”
Feng Qingyun instantly guessed what he was about to say and hurriedly cut him off. “Don’t say it. I… I don’t want to hear it!”
“On your birthday, when you lay in my arms,” Long Yin said slowly, “what I was thinking was how I wanted you to be just like this, spreading your legs willingly, holding onto my neck, crying and begging me.” His voice lowered. “And it wasn’t just that day. Even when you told me you liked me, that’s what I was thinking.”
Feng Qingyun shut his eyes tightly. His ears burned completely red.
He had always acted so arrogant and unrestrained, but he never imagined the adult world could be this… filthy. Just a few words from this man, and he was already overwhelmed. He twisted his body, trying to escape, but was held firmly in place, drawing out a shaky, helpless sob.
“You were right earlier,” Long Yin continued, pressing him down firmly at the waist, biting lightly at his ear. “As the Demon Emperor, why should I bother with moral constraints? Righteousness and virtue are for those so-called orthodox cultivators. What do they have to do with me?”
Every word struck directly at Feng Qingyun’s heart, making him freeze in place.
“Flower demons are already born as adults. I was wrong to think you were still young. I should have claimed you in your very first year of form, made you bear my child, made you sit in my arms calling me husband… none of this would have been necessary.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“B-bear a child… I can’t…” Feng Qingyun stammered in panic, instinctively pressing a hand to his lower abdomen, shrinking back against the cold edge of the table. “That’s impossible… I really can’t…”
“Is that so?” Long Yin leaned closer, his voice brushing against his ear. “We won’t know until we try.”
The atmosphere grew heavier, more suffocating. Feng Qingyun trembled uncontrollably under his touch, overwhelmed by unfamiliar sensations that clashed entirely with his expectations of love. He had once believed that if he confessed, Long Yin would surely accept him, that the man who indulged him in everything would also be gentle in intimacy, obedient to his desires and careful with him.
But reality was nothing like that.
He was crying now, utterly disheveled, realizing belatedly how far everything had gone wrong. And then Long Yin spoke again, confessing something even darker.
What followed pushed Feng Qingyun past his emotional limit. His mind turned empty, his body trembling as he collapsed helplessly into the other man’s arms.
For a moment, everything went white.
When he came back to himself, he felt a hand gently patting his back through the thin fabric of his clothes… but only then did he realize which hand Long Yin had used, and heat surged back into his face instantly.
Long Yin stopped speaking, and Feng Qingyun thought, faintly, that it might finally be over.
But the moment of relief didn’t last long.
The tenderness between them, the faint sense of being cherished, it made him relax just enough to feel a strange, delayed pride. He even thought, with a bit of secret satisfaction: I knew it. He does like me.
But that pride was mixed with embarrassment. He buried his face into Long Yin’s shoulder, refusing to look up.
“Long Yin…” he muttered, trying to regain some dignity, “you’re really just a hypocritical, disgusting, pervert…”
Long Yin ignored him completely, gently stroking his back as if soothing a restless pet. His gaze, however, lingered on the faint tremble of the youth in his arms, dark currents stirring beneath his eyes.
When Feng Qingyun finally stopped speaking, he was pulled into a kiss.
This time, it was exactly the kind of kiss he had once imagined, so tender it felt like it could melt him entirely. His mind went hazy, his body sinking into warmth, unable to think clearly. He assumed, naively, that the night would end there.
But for Long Yin, that was only the beginning.
Feng Qingyun was soon laid back down onto the bedding. His earlier bravado had completely vanished, replaced by flushed cheeks and disordered breathing as he clung instinctively to the man above him.
He tried to tease again, voice still soft and breathless despite everything.
“Dignified Demon Emperor… thinking such filthy things every day and still pretending otherwise… aren’t you ashamed?”
“Continue.” Long Yin glanced at him calmly.
Feng Qingyun froze. Then, in the next moment, he tried to flee, but was easily pulled back, turned over, and pinned down without resistance. His breath hitched as the distance between them vanished completely. The realization hit him all at once:
He had pushed this too far.
“I’ve only been eighteen in my true form…” he said weakly, face burning. “You can’t, Long Yin…”
Long Yin didn’t even pause. “I can.”
“You… beast…” Feng Qingyun’s eyes reddened.
“More than that,” Long Yin said indifferently. “I’m worse than a beast.”
At that moment, all moral restraint seemed to collapse completely, and Long Yin lowered his gaze, his voice turning faintly hoarse. “Say it. Call me husband.”
Feng Qingyun’s face burned as he stubbornly refused.
“Pervert…”
A soft, almost resigned sigh came from above him. Then Long Yin leaned down again.
What followed was no longer something that could be properly spoken of in words, only the sense of breathlessness, trembling, and overwhelming closeness left in the silence of the room as night deepened.
And in that quiet, all remaining resistance dissolved.
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