Day: November 23, 2024

Chapter 92 – Bullying Bian Rang

Chapter 92 (Extra 14)

 

When Jiuying parted from Bian Rang’s lips, both were breathing irregularly, their eyes slightly red, as if they had just been in a fight. The hot spring mist enveloped the cave, the temperature rising gently, flushing their faces with a rush of blood, their hearts beating like drums.

 

Bian Rang pushed Jiuying away, wiping his mouth, his expression slightly unnatural.

 

Jiuying wanted to say something, but his gaze suddenly caught Bian Rang’s bare image, and he swallowed hard, unable to speak.

 

“Bian… Bian Rang, don’t freeze.” Jiuying’s voice trembled faintly, his arms shaking as he dr4p3d a piece of clothing over Bian Rang, feeling the softness under his fingertips that softened his heart.

 

However, he didn’t dare to take further liberties.

 

That night, Bian Rang slept on the soft couch covered with beast skins that Jiuying had personally made, while Jiuying himself slept on a hammock. He felt good, the hammock swaying gently as he occasionally turned to look at the figure on the couch.

 

Moonlight bathed the ground in pale light, half of Bian Rang’s face bathed in moonlight, the other half hidden in shadows. He slept peacefully, hands curled against his chest, breathing calmly like a well-behaved child.

 

Jiuying quietly watched him like this until dawn.

 

The next day.

 

When Bian Rang opened his eyes, he was unexpectedly met with Jiuying’s face close by. His expression changed suddenly.

 

Jiuying smiled foolishly, “Are you awake?”

 

Bian Rang sat up, and Jiuying quickly took out a cloth soaked in warm water, as if to wipe his face. Bian Rang raised his hand to stop him, looking at him somewhat strangely.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Don’t move, I’m going to wipe your face.”

 

The warm cloth gently touched Bian Rang’s face. As Jiuying’s fingers traced near Bian Rang’s lips, he could faintly see traces left from their kiss last night, lips slightly swollen, faintly tinged with blood.

 

Jiuying couldn’t help but feel remorseful; last night, he had lost control for a moment, not gentle enough. Would he anger Bian Rang?

 

“That’s enough, Jiuying.”

 

Bian Rang looked up at the man before him. During the face wiping, he didn’t know what Jiuying was thinking, constantly wiping near his lips, almost pressing against his face.

 

Jiuying awkwardly withdrew his hand, put down the cloth, and proceeded to comb Bian Rang’s hair. Living in the Sangu Mountain now was different from the Nine Heavens; it was more convenient to tie up his hair.

 

“Bian Rang, your hair looks really good.”

 

The strands were distinct, silver-white like snow, flowing over his shoulders like shimmering silk.

 

Not just his hair, in fact, every aspect of him was handsome enough to make Jiuying’s head spin. A hundred thousand years ago, he had deliberately overlooked Bian Rang’s beauty, and now,

 

But Bian Rang said nothing, wanting to ignore the extraordinary young man’s affectionate tribute.

 

After Jiuying finished tying up Bian Rang’s hair, he looked at the fully revealed eyebrows and eyes of Bian Rang and couldn’t help sighing, “Bian Rang, you’re really handsome.”

 

Finally, Bian Rang couldn’t bear it anymore. “Jiuying, I’ve already told you, I don’t blame you. You don’t have to be so attentive.”

 

“I’m not just… I just want to be a little nicer to you.”

 

Jiuying realized he was growing increasingly timid. A hundred thousand years ago, he hadn’t blinked when Bian Rang was about to kill him. But now, when Bian Rang slightly frowned as if to get angry, he couldn’t help explaining, his heart pounding with fear.

 

After saying this, he looked at Bian Rang nervously. Bian Rang seemed speechless, pursed his lips, turned around, and walked out of the cave.

 

The moment Bian Rang stepped out of the cave, Jiuying quickly cast a spell to conjure a paper umbrella, holding it over Bian Rang’s head.

 

Bian Rang glanced at the paper umbrella above his head, then fixed his gaze ahead, asking as he walked, “You were almost sacrificed in the Five Pointed Nine Heavens Array by someone named Yu Wuxia?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And someone named Fanyu’s blood was also to be sacrificed?”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I heard.” Jiuying wasn’t clear on the details, only knowing that apart from him, those selected included Dayong, the lord of the underworld, Xue Rong, and a drop of blood from Fanyu.

 

After the dissolution of the Five-Pointed Nine-Heavens Formation, they were supposed to enter the cycle of reincarnation, but he refused to forget Bian Rang, choosing instead to enter the ghost path and wait for Bian Rang’s return.

 

Bian Rang suddenly stopped, snapped off a tree branch, and drew a strange runic shape on the ground. The runes shimmered with light, momentarily expanding before dispersing like ripples.

 

Shortly after, the light waves converged again, but the runes remained unchanged.

 

This was a Soul-Searching Formation. If Fan Yu were still alive or, like him, gradually repairing his soul fragments, the formation would have responded. But there was no change now.

 

It seemed Fan Yu might not be able to be reborn anytime soon.

 

Come to think of it, with Fan Yu’s temperament, he would likely confront the Heavenly Law to the end, bearing deeper responsibilities and enduring longer atonement for his sins.

 

Bian Rang threw away the branch in his hand and stood between cliffs in silence.

 

Jiuying held up an umbrella, saying nothing and asking nothing more about Bian Rang’s affairs, quietly accompanying him.

 

For Jiuying, just being able to see Bian Rang was already a great fortune.

 

*

 

Dark clouds roamed in from the distant sky, birds circling low, and the air became humid and sultry, signaling rain.

 

Bian Rang lay on a soft pallet, covered with a blanket made of animal skins, his long hair loose, and a pale jawline peeking out from the furry skin.

 

Outside the cave, a torrential rain suddenly poured down, accompanied by howling mountain winds.

 

Fearing Bian Rang would be cold, Jiuying lit a fire outside and roasted several wild chickens. When the chickens were cooked, their fragrance filled the air. Jiuying went to call Bian Rang, but saw him curled up, clutching his chest, seemingly enduring intense pain.

 

Jiuying hurried over, wanting to touch Bian Rang but afraid of hurting him, so he gently held Bian Rang’s arm and said, “Bian Rang, what’s wrong?”

 

Bian Rang looked up at him, and Jiuying noticed his face was pale, sweat beading on his temples, his eyes dark and sunken. Jiuying’s heart skipped a beat. He looked down and saw Bian Rang tightly gripping the fabric over his chest.

 

Jiuying swallowed hard, his face paling. “Bian Rang, let me see.”

 

Bian Rang’s fingers clenched tightly. Jiuying patiently coaxed and gently separated Bian Rang’s fingers, unfastening his clothes.

 

By the faint light of the cave, Jiuying saw the scar on Bian Rang’s chest, more sinister and swollen than before, like a scorpion poised to strike on his fair, clean chest.

 

Jiuying’s heart felt as though it had been pierced. Trembling, he tentatively touched the scar. “What… happened to it?”

 

Bian Rang lay back into the animal fur blanket, eyes tightly shut, lips dry as he murmured, “It… aches on rainy days.”

 

Jiuying couldn’t find words, staring at the scar.

 

Another wave of pain hit, causing Bian Rang to breathe quicker, hand pressed against his chest, lips pressed into a thin line, devoid of color.

 

Jiuying cast a spell, palm against the scar, trying to ease Bian Rang’s pain. But this scar came from the depths of his spiritual altar, eternal and indestructible. Ordinary methods couldn’t heal it.

 

His mind involuntarily recalled past scenes—Bian Rang’s near-death escape from the killing formation, and his own betrayal, stabbing Bian Rang’s heart when he was defenseless.

 

Back outside, the heavy rain continued, its sound seeming to land directly on Jiuying’s heart, leaving it pitted with dense, lingering pain.

 

He was a bastard.

 

His lips trembled as he held Bian Rang, seeing him in such agony. Jiuying motioned for Bian Rang to bite him.

 

Bian Rang’s curled eyelashes glistened with moisture, meeting Jiuying’s gaze for a moment before turning away, ignoring him.

 

Helpless, Jiuying awkwardly kissed the scar, hoping to distract Bian Rang from his pain.

 

Bian Rang’s body stiffened for a moment.

 

 

In the rainy darkness of the cave, the light was dim.

 

Suddenly, a sharp intake of breath sounded. Bian Rang muttered hoarsely, “Jiuying!”

 

There was a hint of command in his voice.

 

Jiuying’s entire body seemed to ignite instantly, blood burning, skin feverish, eyes reddening, even his exhaled breath scorching.

 

He swallowed hard, grabbed Bian Rang’s wrist, and leaned down to kiss the wound, his actions a mix of selflessness and selfishness.

 

With misty eyes that exuded a shimmering allure, his originally bright pupils appeared even more affectionate. The voice from his throat, intended to stop Jiuying, unknowingly carried a lingering hint of intimacy.

 

“Ji… ying, don’t…”

 

This peculiar sensation gradually made him forget the pain in his heart.

 

Jiuying grew bolder, devouring like a wild beast, tearing bones and consuming.

 

Both their thoughts returned to the scene from a hundred thousand years ago, their first time.

 

In the illusion, Jiuying took advantage of Bian Rang’s unclear consciousness, seducing and forcefully indulging. Back then, Jiuying completely disregarded Bian Rang’s feelings, only obsessed with relentless torment.

 

Later, they established a relationship and spent harmonious days in the Ninth Heaven, freely indulging in their pleasures.

 

Now, after many years, their long-sealed bodies were just slightly closer, yet stuck together like burning fire, inseparable.

 

 

 

Jiuying didn’t go all the way. He didn’t want to continue bullying Bian Rang whenever he felt uncomfortable like before. After they completely opened up to each other, then he would wholeheartedly possess him.

 

Bian Rang felt a bit tired, lying on the soft couch, curled up sleeping. A furry beast-skin blanket covered his small frame.

 

Jiuying hugged him, closed his eyes intending to sleep, but no matter what, he couldn’t fall asleep, his lips involuntarily curled upwards.

 

He couldn’t help muttering to himself, “Jiuying, Jiuying, how can you be so spineless?”

 

Just a slight taste last night, and you’re this excited?

 

He was already sleepless last night, and if he didn’t sleep again today, he might not survive long.

 

Thinking about this in his heart, he drifted off until morning, feeling frustrated, but when he saw the sleeping face in his arms, his regret vanished in an instant. He lowered his head stealthily, giving Bian Rang a kiss on the forehead.

 

Still not satisfied, he continued downward, kissing Bian Rang’s nose and the corners of his lips.

 

Through the blanket covering Bian Rang’s body, he saw the marked neck and chest of Bian Rang, and his ears couldn’t help but burn.

 

Jiuying, oh Jiuying, you’re really not human.

 

 

 

Jiuying stretched lazily and walked out of the cave.

 

After the rain, the mountains and forests seemed to have been dyed with bright colors. The leaves were exceptionally green, and the mountains were especially black. The air carried a rich scent of dust, and faint winds rustled through the trees.

 

Jiuying experienced what “beauty” meant for the first time.

 

Having lived as a snake for so many years, he had never felt peace, tranquility, and happiness like this moment.

 

And all of this was brought to him by the person still sleeping.

 

“Master, slow down a bit, wait for your disciple.”

 

Suddenly, a strange male voice and the aura of a fierce beast came from a tho-ny path beside him.

 

Jiuying instinctively held his breath, narrowed his eyes, and adopted a defensive posture. Out from the path emerged a sleek and glossy tiger-beast with well-groomed fur. Behind the beast walked a man in black clothes with a shaved head.

 

Although the man’s attire was ordinary, his unique and outstanding aura marked him as someone extraordinary.

 

The man and the tiger-beast, upon seeing Jiuying, also paused slightly.

 

At this moment, Bian Rang walked out from the cave and stood behind Jiuying, looking at the man and the tiger-beast. “They…”


T/N: Three more chapters! (Yes, I’m counting down…)

Hey there! There is plenty more where that came from, so stay tuned! And stay healthy! Straighten your posture, so some stretches and drink some water before continuing hehe~

If you like my translations, feel free to donate to my ko-fi!

I really, really appreciate all the support from my readers <3 It goes a long way and motivates me lots!

https://ko-fi.com/hoenibean

 

Also, check out the other series we have on HoH!

If you like cats, check out Revenge of the Garfield

If you like dragons, check out I’m Pregnant with the Hope of the Entire Planet and The Dragon and the ‘Princess’

How about some mystery or showbiz? Check out Morbid Addiction & Perfection

What about the perfect, most non-toxic male lead ever? Laws of Love

How about MC nursing ML back to health? Forced into the Deep

 

Thank you for all your support <3 Leave a comment if you like 🙂 I love reading them!

 

Chapter 21 – Surprisingly Comfortable

Gu Lizhou knocked on the door of 301 for quite a while, but no one answered. Instead, a middle-aged woman with dyed hair came up the hallway, holding a small folding stool in her hand.

“You’re also looking for Zhong Weishi ah?” The woman curiously sized him up.

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou nodded.

“He owes you money ah?” The woman asked.

Gu Lizhou was taken aback, “No ah, did he owe you money?”

“Yes ah, he hasn’t paid last month’s rent yet. Always delaying, delaying, and now I can’t even reach him by phone. Today, I’m determined to catch him,” the woman said.

When the old house was sold years ago, it was handled by Gu Lizhou’s father. Gu Lizhou didn’t know about it. It wasn’t until after his college entrance exams that he found out the old house was gone—he couldn’t go back.

“Are you the landlord here ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“No, the house belongs to my cousin. She’s gone abroad, so I’m here to collect the rent for her,” The woman couldn’t stop once she started talking. “The little kid is actually quite straightforward. He’s been living here for several years, but he’s too playful, always hanging out with a bunch of odd people. I suspect he’s deliberately avoiding me… If he doesn’t show up today, I’m going to call someone to change the lock.”

Gu Lizhou watched her make a call.

It was indeed off.

The woman started nagging again, “He’s also unwilling to find a proper job, always dreaming about becoming an actor. I mean, with the thousands of people in the Film and Television City, what are the chances that kind of luck will fall on him? It’s all about having connections ya. Kids just don’t understand these things…”

To Gu Lizhou, her chatter sounded like a buzzing bee, going on and on. It was getting hard to listen to, so he interrupted, “How much does he owe you ah? I’ll cover it for now.”

The woman was first delighted, then curiously asked, “Who are you to him ya?”

“Friend,” Gu Lizhou replied. “Auntie, wait here for me. I’ll go get my phone and transfer the money to you, alright?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” The woman smiled and nodded repeatedly.

After Gu Lizhou paid, he sat on the balcony, lost in thought.

Zhong Weishi would perform some kind of talent for them almost every night, so Cao Zhiheng had left a long bench in the hallway, too lazy to move it back inside.

The old lady who sold takoyaki would always greet him with a smile when she saw him, “Waiting for the moon again ah?”

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou lit a cigarette.

If it were anyone else, they might think he was sick in the head, but the old lady would cheerfully say, “The weather’s great today. The moon will definitely be bright.”

Tonight’s moon was indeed very bright.

In City B, the smog was severe, and even on clear days, it was rare to see such a clear moon. But Yucheng was different.

The night sky twinkled with stars, as plentiful as shells on a beach, so abundant that one could step on them with every other step.

His thoughts drifted away.

Around nine o’clock, most of the lights in the apartment building had gone out.

When Zhong Weishi trudged up the stairs, exhausted, he was startled by a tall figure standing still at the door of 301.

“You finally know to come back, huh?”

When the other party spoke, Zhong Weishi breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s you ah. You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing standing here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?!”

As Zhong Weishi fumbled for his keys to open the door, Gu Lizhou stepped inside right behind him.

“Do you need something?” Zhong Weishi dropped his backpack and collapsed onto the sofa.

Gu Lizhou said, “It’s not me who needs something; it’s your landlord. She said you’re two months behind on rent.”

“Oh…” Zhong Weishi rubbed his sore eyes and patted his calves. “I’m out of money.”

“Out of money again?” Gu Lizhou put one hand on his waist, pointing at him. “What about the money you make going out early and coming back late every day?”

“I gave it all to my grandma,” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou frowned, “Didn’t you say you’re an orphan?! Where did this grandma come from?”

“She’s the grandma from the orphanage who used to take care of me. Her granddaughter called me this afternoon, saying she had a stroke and passed out,” Zhong Weishi explained.

Gu Lizhou froze.

Decades ago, a privately-run orphanage opened in the town of City C. It took in many local children who were born with disabilities or were homeless, and it also helped many find new homes.

Grandma Zhao was originally a rural teacher. After retiring, she worked at the orphanage, helping Director Li care for the children.

Eventually, due to Director Li’s age and lack of energy to raise funds from different places, the orphanage couldn’t continue operating and faced closure.

Zhong Weishi happened to be part of the last batch of children there. He was dark-skinned and scrawny as a child, looking like a sickly little monkey, so no one adopted him, even into his teens.

The older he got, the less people wanted to adopt him, fearing they wouldn’t bond properly.

Not long after the orphanage closed, the director passed away. At that time, only Zhong Weishi and a group of children with disabilities were left in the orphanage. Those children were gradually sent to the city’s orphanage, but Zhong Weishi cried and caused a fuss, refusing to leave, even sneaking out in the middle of the night by climbing over the wall.

After Grandma Zhao called the police and found him, she kept him with her.

Most of the children from the orphanage, as long as they didn’t have mental disabilities, were assigned simple jobs at local small units once they reached adulthood. Those who couldn’t work were supported by the government, but their living conditions were often bleak.

Zhong Weishi was considered one of the lucky ones, as Grandma Zhao had forced him to attend high school for two years.

“She used to tease me back then, saying, ‘You’re so ugly. If you don’t study hard and earn money, no girl will want to be with you.’” Zhong Weishi was picking at a small hole in his pants, making it bigger and bigger as he spoke.

A helpless life, a helpless fate. There were always people living difficult lives in unexpected ways, in unexpected places.

“Why didn’t you keep studying then?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“We were too poor at that time,” Zhong Weishi replied. “Grandma was already old and still had to take odd jobs to make money. She also had a granddaughter who needed to go to school, so I quit and went out to work.”

“I see ah…” Gu Lizhou pursed his lips, feeling it was a pity.

Zhong Weishi was in his second year of high school about six years ago. At that time, Gu Lizhou was busy serializing his last piece <Souls of the Departed> for Star Century.

If he had known earlier that such a place and such people existed, maybe he could have done something to help.

“Grandma and the director were really, really good people, but it’s a shame I haven’t made anything of myself. Grandma must be so disappointed in me.” Zhong Weishi hung his head and sighed. “If I had lots of money, she wouldn’t have to live so hard… and maybe her body wouldn’t have worn out from all the work.”

Gu Lizhou suddenly realized that when people are unhappy, even their hair strands are listless and have lost their former brightness.

The living room light flickered due to a faulty connection, and Zhong Weishi’s voice gradually weakened. There were a few soft sniffling sounds, like he was trying hard to hold back his emotions.

Gu Lizhou guessed that his eyes must be very red now.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling, or what he wanted to do, but by the time he snapped back to reality, his hand was already resting on Zhong Weishi’s head.

This was the first time he had ever touched someone else’s hair, and the texture reminded him of petting a large dog.

Soft… and oddly comforting.

“It’s not your fault,” Gu Lizhou’s voice was soft and gentle. “You still remember Grandma’s kindness, and you went to the hospital to see her as soon as you could. I’m sure that made her very happy.”

Zhong Weishi froze for a moment, and a tear slipped from his eye, landing on his thigh. “Really?”

“Of course.” Gu Lizhou’s tone lifted at the end, making his answer sound particularly sincere.

Zhong Weishi sniffled.

Maybe it was because the other party was older, or maybe because his actions and words were so gentle, but he gave off a sense of reliability, and his words felt reasonable.

That’s right, grandma must be happy.

Before Zhong Weishi had a chance to fully recover from his sadness, the reliable one suddenly said, “Just how ugly were you as a kid ah? Do you have a photo I can see?”

“fvck!” Zhong Weishi angrily threw a pillow at him. “Is that the point here?!”

As Gu Lizhou caught the pillow, he saw that Zhong Weishi was smiling.

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