Chapter 50: A Slight Rise, A Mark of Respect Part 1

Pei Jingyi hooked an arm under Gu Huaiyu’s knees, scooping him entirely into his embrace.

The Lord Chancellor, whose power usually overshadowed the imperial court, now resembled a sickly cat. His slender frame trembled violently in Jingyi’s arms, looking so fragile it seemed as if a single squeeze might shatter him.

Gu Huaiyu buried his face into the crook of Jingyi’s neck. His icy nose brushed against the skin in an unconscious nuzzle, sending a series of tiny, electric jolts through the general.

Pei Jingyi was already straining his self-control. He was no saint; with such a beauty sitting in his lap, how could he not harbor certain thoughts?

Yet, Gu Huaiyu seemed intent on tormenting him. Nuzzling against his neck wasn’t enough; the Chancellor’s shallow breath followed, and a wet, soft tongue brushed—almost imperceptibly—against his Adam’s apple.

When had Pei Jingyi ever seen Gu Huaiyu like this?

The hand that had been supporting the Chancellor’s back began to stray, sliding down the dip of his waist to caress the graceful curve of his hip.

His voice dropped to a husky rasp. “My Lord… is this another ‘reward’ for your subordinate?”

Gu Huaiyu had neither the mind to punish him nor the strength to reward him. Even his licking was faint and drifting. Sensing his labored breathing, Pei Jingyi tilted his face up to look at him.

Fine beads of cold sweat covered the Chancellor’s pale skin. His brows were knit tight, and his damp eyelashes were clumped together. He looked utterly consumed by a pathological fragility.

Seeing him in such a state, Jingyi lost all desire to tease.

“I’ll go stoke the fire,” he said, moving to rise.

But just as he shifted, a weak force coiled around his neck. Gu Huaiyu had lifted his arms, loosely hooking them around the back of Jingyi’s head.

This sudden initiative made Jingyi’s heart leap. He froze, the movement causing Gu Huaiyu to be pulled slightly higher. The furs draped over the Chancellor’s shoulders slid down, revealing a stretch of snow-white neck. Damp hair clung to his skin, creating an atmosphere of humid, heavy intimacy.

Whether it was a hallucination or not, the scent of Agarwood in the air grew stiflingly thick, invading Jingyi’s nose, his throat, and his lower belly.

Gu Huaiyu didn’t mean to cling. The pain wracking his limbs was simply too intense, shattering his reason. The man before him was his only “antidote,” and he grabbed hold instinctively, refusing to let go.

Jingyi’s breath hitched. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. Just as he was about to gently pry the arms away, Gu Huaiyu’s other hand joined the first, fully encircling him.

The wide sleeves fell back, exposing forearms as white as fresh snow—delicate and lustrous enough to make one’s eyes burn.

His arms locked around Jingyi’s neck. His eyelashes fluttered as his pupils lost focus from the pain. His voice was so faint it was nearly a ghost of a sound.

“Give it to me…”

The veins behind Pei Jingyi’s ears throbbed. His breathing was loud in the small cabin. “What does My Lord want?”

Gu Huaiyu suddenly tilted his face up. Jingyi instinctively closed his eyes, his lips puckering slightly to meet him—

So, he wants this.

A second later, a sharp but faint sting erupted from his neck.

Gu Huaiyu had buried his face back into the crook of Jingyi’s neck. He had exhausted his strength in enduring the pain, to the point where even a “vicious” bite failed to break the skin. He only managed to leave several reddened tooth marks on the general’s bronzed flesh.

Pei Jingyi’s mind raced; the blood in his body rushed toward a single point. In this moment, if Gu Huaiyu asked for his life, he would give it.

Gu Huaiyu’s tongue flicked lightly over the tooth marks. Before the moisture could even spread, he pulled back, his head dropping as if he had spent every ounce of energy. A single silver thread of saliva hung from the corner of his lip.

He truly had no strength left.

Even such a simple action was performed in fits and starts, like a weak kitten that couldn’t even lift its paws but stubbornly insisted on holding its favorite dried fish. His teeth remained loosely closed—unable to crush, unwilling to release—simply holding and grinding, letting the metallic scent linger between his lips.

Pei Jingyi’s breathing turned heavy and ragged. His eyes shined with a near-feverish excitement.

He finally understood. Gu Huaiyu wasn’t looking for a kiss. He was looking for the right place to strike.

Gu Huaiyu wanted his blood.

He wanted the blood flowing through his veins—the blood that carried the secret power of the Nine Li.

Jingyi had known since childhood that he was different. His wounds healed at a visible speed, and even the strongest poisons felt like little more than a mild intoxication. His parents had been secretive about it, warning him repeatedly that this was a curse, a secret that could never be told.

But now, he felt a supreme sense of euphoria.

The thought of his blood entering Gu Huaiyu’s body, becoming a part of him… the mere image made him shudder with excitement.