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Chapter 56

Ji Xuan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t answer, nor did he continue trying to break free. Instead, he maintained this dominant posture, feeling the slightly rapid heartbeat thudding from Pei Yingye’s chest.

Pei Yingye had indeed drunk a lot tonight. Besides what Aslan and the others had forced on him, he had also blocked several drinks for Ji Xuan midway. However, Ji Xuan didn’t quite believe that the man didn’t know his own limit; that amount of alcohol was at most enough to get him tipsy, but not enough to make him lose his mind.

He was just pretending to be drunk to act like a spoiled brat.

With that thought, Ji Xuan patted his face with a smile.

Unexpectedly, this gesture was misinterpreted. Pei Yingye tilted his head, his soft, dry lips brushing against Ji Xuan’s palm.

He kissed the hand while peering up at Ji Xuan. They hadn’t turned on the lights when they entered; the only light source in the room was a sliver of moonlight from the window, which only illuminated the lower half of Ji Xuan’s face. From Pei Yingye’s angle, it was impossible to see what kind of emotion lay in those dark eyes.

But that didn’t stop him from pushing his luck.

Seeing that Ji Xuan wasn’t resisting, he braced his upper body and followed the wrist upward. His lips brushed against the delicate, fragile skin of the palm, and he felt Ji Xuan’s other hand, pressing against him, flinch.

Gnawing, licking, tugging… he wanted to cover it with his own marks. He heard Ji Xuan let out a small gasp, his left hand clenching, gripping his clothes tight.

So sensitive.

Was it because this was originally a weak spot, or because he sensed Pei Yingye’s intent to replace someone else?

At this thought, he abruptly pulled his head away from Ji Xuan’s wrist and stared at him with heavy eyes.

To Ji Xuan, the current Pei Yingye was like a dog that had been frolicking a moment ago but suddenly stopped its wagging propeller tail, his excitement dropping instantly. A clear light spread across those blue eyes, like a lake covered by a thin layer of ice, yet scorching fire surged in the depths.

“Ji Xuan.” He called him by his full name. “What else can’t you tell me? Am I really that untrustworthy?”

The hand that had been bitten full of tooth marks finally “escaped the tiger’s mouth,” yet Ji Xuan didn’t take the opportunity to pull it back. Instead, he pinched Pei Yingye’s chin, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze.

Ji Xuan certainly hadn’t expected his words upon leaving the interrogation room that day to have fooled anyone; he just hadn’t expected Pei Yingye to hold it in this long before asking.

But why should he tell him?

“You want to know?” Ji Xuan’s fingertip rubbed his chin with moderate pressure. His thumb slid over the lower lip, pressing inward slightly, grinding against Pei Yingye’s sharp canine teeth.

Pei Yingye stared at him intently, the answer practically written on his face.

Ji Xuan had no intention of letting him have his way. His gaze swept lazily over the man’s eyes as he said, “Think it over carefully yourself?”

But even these few words were enough for Pei Yingye to be certain: the thing Ji Xuan was hiding was definitely related to him.

The only blank space in his twenty-one years of life was the month he was trapped in the simulation pod, and at that time, Ji Xuan hadn’t even been recognized by the Ji family yet.

As those absurd thoughts gathered in his mind, Pei Yingye suddenly grabbed Ji Xuan’s hand, which was still teasing his lips, and squeezed it tight.

“You saw me four years ago, didn’t you?” Pei Yingye’s voice was incredibly dry. “That person you mentioned…”

Ji Xuan shook his head.

“Think for yourself.” He repeated those three words, then leaned down, their noses touching. “Remember it, and maybe I’ll tell you more.”

In truth, he didn’t care what the hidden matter actually was; what he cared about was that Pei Yingye had forgotten, while he still remembered that memory so clearly.

Pei Yingye had never hated his own helplessness as much as he did at this moment. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall even a fraction of a fragmented memory.

Ji Xuan is punishing me, Pei Yingye thought indignantly.

Seeing that the man didn’t intend to continue acting crazy, Ji Xuan straightened up, increasing the distance between them. In the dim light, his expression became blurred and indistinct again. He broke free from the hand Pei Yingye was gripping and prepared to get off the bed, but Pei Yingye once again caught his left hand before it could fully pull away.

The world spun.

Ji Xuan’s hand was pinned against Pei Yingye’s chest, and a hot kiss descended once more.

Like a puppy licking someone, it was wet, carrying the lingering scent of alcohol and a faint, almost imperceptible tang of blood from a bitten lip.

He ground his lips against Ji Xuan’s repeatedly, as if trying to suck away every ounce of faint warmth and breath. Ji Xuan didn’t push him away, watching him with interest through lowered lashes. He could clearly feel the heart inside Pei Yingye’s chest beating more and more wildly, the vibration transmitting through their touching skin, resonating with his own gradually destabilizing heartbeat.

However, this torturous method was becoming a bit much for Ji Xuan. The faint taste of blood dissolved between their teeth. Ji Xuan tilted his head, ending the kiss.

“Had enough?”

This attitude made Pei Yingye feel stifled. He stared at Ji Xuan gloomily for a while before suddenly laughing.

“…?”

Before he could react, a sharp pain on his collarbone made Ji Xuan gasp. He raised his hand to grab Pei Yingye’s hair and pull him off, laughing as he scolded, “You little puppy.”

Pei Yingye was pulled back, his head tilting up. Under his messy hair, his blue eyes were startlingly bright, carrying a bit of malicious satisfaction after getting his way. He licked the corner of his mouth and smiled at Ji Xuan: “If you’re unwilling, you should have just pushed me away.”

Before his voice even faded, he didn’t give Ji Xuan a chance to react or refute, leaning down once more.

This time, however, he didn’t use his teeth. Instead, he used the wet tip of his tongue to lick the tooth marks on Ji Xuan’s collarbone with a comforting, yet even more intimate tenderness.

Ji Xuan’s breathing also turned chaotic. Pei Yingye felt his subtle reaction, his hot breath spraying against the sensitive neck. While rubbing his lips against that patch of skin, he spoke in a muddled, raspy, intermittent voice: “Your pulse here… is also beating very fast.”

His fingers had quietly found their way to Ji Xuan’s heart at some point, sensing the thumping beneath the skin through the thin fabric.

“Every time I kiss you…” His kisses moved up from the collarbone, passing the neck and landing on Ji Xuan’s Adam’s apple. “…this part also tightens.”

Ji Xuan looked at him with lowered eyes, wanting to say something, but only a short breath escaped.

Pei Yingye’s kisses lingered up the neck, the warm sensation spreading all the way until he found Ji Xuan’s lips again. This time, it was no longer a superficial taste. The momentum of the siege was fierce, but in the end, it turned unexpectedly lingering.

In the gaps between their breaths, he toyed with the fullness of Ji Xuan’s lip, their noses brushing against each other as he said word by word, “Ji Xuan, you like it too.”

“…You like me.”

Ji Xuan just watched him and didn’t speak.

In the darkness, the rustling of clothes mingled with the faint, irregular sounds of breathing. Even the moonlight outside seemed shy to peek, quietly hiding behind the clouds.

No one knew how much time had passed. Perhaps the alcohol had gone to his head, confusing both his consciousness and time. Pei Yingye didn’t even remember how he separated from Ji Xuan or how he fell into a deep sleep.

He only remembered that his last glimpse was of Ji Xuan sighing deeply, seemingly resigned to his confinement.

What’s the big deal? It’s not the first time we’ve slept together, Pei Yingye thought.

While the alcohol tonight wasn’t enough to make him pass out, the intoxication likely drove it; not long after his consciousness hit the ground, a muddled dreamscape arrived.

In the dream, it was a sunny day. The sunlight outside reflected massive, layered halos, making the flowers, grass, and trees appear as double images.

It appeared to be a small, antique building, adorned with carved beams and painted rafters. The pitch-black floor tiles were plated with a layer of brilliant gold, faintly reflecting silhouettes.

Pei Yingye was leaning against a bamboo chair; when he woke up, there was still a block of ice placed at his feet.

He was actually a bit confused, as he shouldn’t have a habit of insisting on sitting on the floor when a chair was available. Just as he tried to push himself up using the bamboo chair, his body refused to obey his control.

The sensations of the dream suddenly became vivid. The sun shone warm on his back, a breeze carrying the scent of plants brushed his cheek, and the coolness of the bamboo chair seeped through his thin clothing. He moved slightly, and his cheek seemed to brush against something soft.

It was a strand of hair.

Inky black long hair cascaded down the edge of the bamboo chair like a waterfall. His gaze followed the strand upward, only to find that the majority of the person’s hair was tucked beneath his own arm.

The person was facing away from him, lying sideways on the bamboo chair, seemingly asleep. The half of the hair closest to him had been loosely braided into many tiny, crooked plaits. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed as though he had braided them haphazardly and then, suddenly exhausted, fallen asleep right on top of these half-finished products.

In the dream, Pei Yingye reached out to touch the small braids. After confirming there were no suspicious marks on them, he breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

Then, his fingertips quickly darted through the ends of the hair, as if eager to cover up the evidence of his crime, trying to unravel the braids.

Just then, the sleeping person seemed disturbed by his movements and shifted slightly. Immediately after, he heard a voice from above: “Have you played enough?”

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to come here.”

Pei Yingye looked up and met a pair of eyes looking down at him.

Ji Xuan…

It really was him.

The hair slipped through his fingers as Ji Xuan turned halfway, propping his elbow on the armrest of the bamboo chair. The sunlight traced a fuzzy halo behind him, making him look somewhat surreal.

—Though it was an unreal dream to begin with.

“But only this place is a bit cooler. You can’t just leave me outside to bake into human jerky in the middle of the day, can you? I’d be very pitiful, Ji Xuan,” Pei Yingye heard his own voice say.

“How do you always have so many excuses?” Ji Xuan said, pulling his wide outer robe closer to cover most of his exposed collarbone.

His sleeve slipped down slightly with the movement, and Pei Yingye’s sharp eyes noticed that at this time, there were no tattoos on his wrist yet.

Ji Xuan stood up to step onto the floor, his movements somewhat stiff. Pei Yingye also used the bamboo chair to stand up and asked, “Has your body started hurting again?”

“How would a person without cultivation like you know about that?”

He always acted like this when he didn’t want to answer a question, finding ways to turn it back with a different rhetorical tactic. The Pei Yingye in the dream didn’t fall for it, stubbornly repeating, “So it hurts, right?”

Ji Xuan gave a light, airy laugh and said, “No.”

He then brushed past Pei Yingye’s side and walked toward the exit of the hall.

The afternoon breeze brushed against clusters of delphiniums outside the corridor, their slender stems swaying gracefully. Pei Yingye followed closely behind him, his blue eyes reflecting a similarly clear color in the sunlight.

Ji Xuan tilted his head, his gaze searching deep into the other’s eyes. He raised his hand, ghosting over the contours of Pei Yingye’s brow and eyes, then asked him, “Have you ever seen the sea?”

“I have.”

The wind swept through the courtyard, bringing a rustling sound from the distance. Perhaps it was an illusion, but it sounded a bit like the tide.

“Is it the same as your eyes?” Ji Xuan’s voice was like wind warmed by the sun; his tone held pure curiosity and a faint, imperceptible yearning.

Pei Yingye’s heart skipped a beat, then was immediately filled with a surging, indescribable impulse.

After a moment of feigned contemplation, he tilted his chin up slightly. The sunlight fell into his eyes, spreading a field of fragmented light across his blue pupils: “Of course, they’re not as beautiful as my eyes.”

Hearing this, Ji Xuan was first stunned, then laughed out loud.

“You—”

Pei Yingye snapped his eyes open.

The gentle morning breeze blew back a corner of the curtain, and the faint morning light fell in from the window, tiny dust motes dancing wildly in the pillars of light. A throbbing pain rose from the back of his head. He didn’t even need to think to know it was the lingering alcohol from the night before, but as his vision cleared, he found himself facing a patch of fair skin. Looking further down, he saw a rising and falling chest with an open collar.

His cheek was pressed against the crook of Ji Xuan’s neck, one arm unreasonably draped across the other’s waist, holding him firmly in his embrace. His other hand was twining Ji Xuan’s hair through his fingertips, a large portion still pinned under his arm.

No wonder… no wonder as soon as he looked up, he met a pair of cold and emotionless eyes.

It’s unknown how long Ji Xuan had been awake, but he was quietly looking down at him. There was no emotion in those dark eyes. There was neither the misty look of last night’s passion nor the anger of being offended.

He raised his hand and pushed Pei Yingye outward, a movement that also happened to block the other’s overly burning gaze. Pei Yingye’s gaze dropped, sweeping over the tattoos on his wrist. Every flower stamen was covered in bite marks, clearly his masterpiece from the night before.

Pei Yingye thought of his dream, the delphinium under the corridor, and what Ji Xuan had said to him in the cafeteria before.

He had asked: Has anyone ever told you your eyes are beautiful?

He hadn’t understood back then, but thinking of it now, it looked like a probe no matter how he viewed it.

“Where exactly did you come from?” Pei Yingye murmured.

Ji Xuan’s movement paused, and he asked back, “Where do you think I came from?”

I don’t know, Pei Yingye thought.

Countless unrealistic guesses had flashed through his mind when he found the character model released by the game team, only to be rationally dismantled one by one.

Many memories from four years ago had faded into the chaos of that time. What other coincidence in the world could bring such a person right before his eyes? But that face was exactly the same as the one before him and the one in his dreams, perfectly shaped to his liking. Why couldn’t it be the same person?

But—

What was the deal with that deceased first love?

The arm around the waist tightened unconsciously, and Pei Yingye buried his head, his warm breath spraying entirely onto Ji Xuan’s palm.

Ji Xuan’s whole body stiffened, his fingers curled uncontrollably, and his breathing seemed to falter for a second.

But soon, he regained his composure.

“Pei Yingye, you’re poking me.”

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