VL Chapter18

What manner of identity did the Ghost King possess? He was one who had ruled over the Underworld for nearly a thousand years. Not to mention that after two months of recuperation his wounds had mostly healed; even at the peak of his injuries, handling a mere human would have posed no problem whatsoever.

Shi Xiao had known from the very beginning that Yan Jiang intended to escape.

Of course, this cowardly and incompetent scholar had already done quite well; he had simply forgotten that his body now harbored a wisp of ghost energy. Not only could it track the host at any time, but even the host’s thoughts and reflections were completely transparent to Shi Xiao.

He knew where Yan Jiang’s threshold of endurance lay. Pushing their intimate interactions further step by step was a reflection of his growing desire, while also serving to edge closer and closer to the other man’s bottom line. When that bottom line was touched, the human had predictably made the most direct reaction—to flee.

Just as wealthy matrons would not get angry because a pet cat they kept had scratched up a tablecloth, from the Ghost King’s perspective, he merely viewed this as occasional mischief from a pet, and with keen interest, turned it into a game of pursuit.

The only pity was that the upcoming full moon meant this game had to end prematurely just as it was beginning.

A human’s mortal flesh could not withstand the transportation of ghost energy over too great a distance. Helpless, Shi Xiao had no choice but to travel in stages, taking a full two incense-sticks’ worth of time to return to the thatched cottage.

By this time, Yan Jiang was already half-awake.

Actually, he wasn’t really unconscious; it was just that his emotions had fluctuated too violently and coupled with witnessing the Ghost King shift through several illusions, his soul had nearly been frightened right out of his body, plunging his physical flesh into a brief state of rigid numbness. Shi Xiao had protected him in time, additionally using ghost energy as “stitches” to reinforce his soul, allowing him to gradually recover and regain his wits.

Shi Xiao set him down, casually sat himself in his recliner, raised his right hand to grasp a wine goblet that materialized out of the void, and brought it to his lips to slowly sip.

The liquid inside the goblet swayed gently, its vivid, glaring red hue bearing an uncanny resemblance to blood.

He didn’t spare a glance for the scholar beside him and was even less inclined to drive his ghost energy to probe his thoughts and reflections.

Before long, Yan Jiang staggered a few steps closer to him, then collapsed forward, kneeling at his feet with a pale face.

“My Lord—I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know I was wrong!”

His human pet spoke hurriedly, his voice trembling all the while. Distracted for a moment, he accidentally choked on his own saliva, and before he could finish apologizing, he clutched his throat and broke into a fit of relentless coughing.

Shi Xiao looked down, unmoving and silent, his expression unhurried and composed.

When the scholar finally stopped coughing and timidly raised his head, he suddenly extended the wine goblet in his hand forward and slowly tilted it.

It poured down a thin, steady stream of water, drenching Yan Jiang straight down from between his brows.

The red liquid was slightly viscous, flowing all over his face from his forehead, sliding down his nose bridge and cheeks, pooling at his chin to drip onto the ground.

A solitary droplet clung to his eyelashes, quivering as though it might fall at any moment, resembling a tear of blood.

Yan Jiang’s mouth was slightly parted as he panted heavily, a faint, fishy scent seeming to linger in his nose and throat; he didn’t dare to imagine what this liquid actually was and couldn’t even muster up the courage to move.

Yet it was precisely this frightened and spineless face that, in Shi Xiao’s eyes, possessed an indescribable pleasing quality.

The Ghost King was in high spirits, and finally condescended to lean down, cupping Yan Jiang’s half-lifted face in both hands to lock it at an angle where they could look each other in the eye, squinting as he appreciated the view.

Having seen enough, he stretched out his thumb, leisurely and meticulously smearing and evening out the remaining red liquid.

Yan Huaizhi had been a world-renowned handsome man back in the day; as his descendant, although Yan Jiang’s features couldn’t compare to that level of beauty, his foundation was still decent. The smeared red liquid turned into a faint pink, messily smudged across this face, unexpectedly displaying a hint of cuteness.

“I-I was wrong, I beg you, My Lord, don’t be angry…”

The scholar spoke again; his voice already tinged with a faint nasal sound.

“Shh—”

Shi Xiao gently patted his cheek. His hand, still damp with water, pressed against the warm skin before moving back, brushing past the ear as his five fingers slipped into the hair at the temples in a tender caress.

Yet at a certain moment, he suddenly tightened his grip, fiercely clutching Yan Jiang’s hair roots, forcing him to tilt his head aside and causing his body to sway, letting out a whimper of pain.

That whimper was too light and too brief, sounding somewhat like a cat.

Shi Xiao brought his face even closer, the tip of his nose almost touching Yan Jiang’s face and used his other hand to flick the other party’s trembling eyelashes before giving a low laugh.

“Since Ah Fu knows that you were wrong, then tell this venerable one, why did you run?”

He purposely blew his icy breath against the human’s face, then took pleasure in feeling the trembling frequency of the body beneath his hand become even denser.

“I, I wasn’t…”

“Lying to an elder is not a good choice, don’t you think, my obedient grandnephew?” The tone was gentle.

Yet Yan Jiang knew this wasn’t a reminder, but a threat.

He finally believed that the Ghost King truly possessed the ability to control everything about him; the only thing placed before him was acceptance, and the option of resistance had never existed.

The thin line of self-deception in his heart was finally extinguished, leaving him with nothing but endless humiliation.

“My Lord, I’m sorry… I was just too scared… Wu…”

The sobs couldn’t be held back anymore, and the tears that had been spinning in his eye sockets for a long time finally fell.

Shi Xiao didn’t soften his heart in the least, still pressing step by step, “This venerable one considers myself to have never treated you harshly, so what is my obedient grand-nephew afraid of?”

He straightened slightly and pulled him closer by the hair, causing the feverish Yan Jiang to stumble helplessly. Instinctively, Yan Jiang raised a hand to steady himself against the Ghost King’s thigh, his body settling right between the man’s parted legs.

An action that would be ambiguous between lovers or erotic in a brothel meant only infinite danger in this setting.

Fu Ze opened his mouth, completely unable to answer Shi Xiao’s question.

And Shi Xiao didn’t seem to care about his answer either.

“Are you afraid of this venerable one kissing you?” His icy left hand stroked toward Yan Jiang’s lips, the pad of his thumb pressing against his lips and rubbing them as he asked softly.

Without waiting for an answer after the question, that finger slid downward unhurriedly, passing his Adam’s apple, his collarbone, and resting over his flat chest through his clothing.

The pad of his finger pressed onto the nipple, circling it and gently teasing, “Or are you afraid of this venerable one touching you?”

Yan Jiang flinched sensitively.

That hand had already moved away, stroking his waist like a caress and wrapping around behind him. The military general’s hand was broader than that of an average adult man; spreading his five fingers, he could almost encompass the scholar’s entire left hip.

Shi Xiao squeezed with considerable interest, suddenly hooking the corner of his lips into a smile that made his excessively handsome face appear even more wicked, “Or perhaps, afraid of this venerable screwing you?”

Inconsistent with his gentle tone, the words he spoke made one’s whole-body chill.

Yan Jiang’s psychological defenses completely collapsed, biting down hard on his lower lip as his tears flowed more torrentially.

“Is it, or isn’t it?” The hand holding Yan Jiang’s hair tightened a fraction more.

“It is…”

“Say it completely.”

Yan Jiang closed his eyes in despair.

“I, I ran away because… wuwu… I’m afraid of My Lord screwing me…”

The excessively explicit phrasing, coupled with the trembling, crying tone, inadvertently multiplied the sense of eroticism severalfold.

Shi Xiao was very satisfied.

He finally loosened his grip, but his fingers remained tangled in the human’s hair roots, lightly supporting the back of his head without leaving.

“If you’d been this obedient from the start, you wouldn’t have had to suffer.”

He sighed, though not a trace of pity could be heard in his helpless words.

“This venerable one isn’t some sort of lecherous debauchee either; if Ah Fu isn’t willing, this venerable one won’t force you.”

Speaking such sanctimonious words, Shi Xiao’s left hand nevertheless left Yan Jiang’s hips, instead taking his cold sweat-drenched hand and pressing it against his already-aroused crotch. “Great Granduncle is terribly fond of Ah Fu. Ah Fu is such a filial child, how about giving it a lick for this venerable one, hmm?”

At the same time, he exerted force with his right hand, slowly pressing Yan Jiang’s face down toward his lap.

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