Chapter 25

His body felt empty beneath him, forcing him to cling tightly to the tall man. The terror of falling made Bai Ying wrap his arms desperately around the man’s neck. Powerlessly, he pounded on the man’s back. The muscles there were rock-hard, like silent and solid mountains, and Bai Ying’s hands grew red from the effort.

“Put me down…” His voice carried a faint sob.

Woo… Why did it feel so awful? This heat cycle seemed far more unbearable than any before. Perhaps it was because in the past, he had always locked himself in his room each time, immersing himself in cold water to block out all external disturbances. But this time, someone held him close, and the moment their bodies touched, Bai Ying trembled all over.

Don’t touch me anymore…

Yet the man paid no heed. He carried Bai Ying up a long flight of stairs, the wall lamps casting a dim glow, turning the path ahead into a hazy blur in Bai Ying’s eyes. He still struggled, but such feeble efforts meant nothing to Mr. Liu. Worried that Bai Ying might thrash and accidentally fall, he gave the young man in his arms a light swat on the buttocks.

Bai Ying’s eyes flew wide open in an instant.

How could he… Mr. Liu’s strike wasn’t hard, but tears still welled up in Bai Ying’s eyes. He had always been a good child; even the teachers at the orphanage had never spanked him like this when he was little.

After delivering the gentle slap, Mr. Liu felt it might have been inappropriate.

But he quickly brushed it off. The little snake in his arms was a kin of his own kind—a fellow demon descendant. A minor scolding was nothing. Great demons who had lived for ages had witnessed too much of the world; they followed their own hearts in all things and rarely dwelled on any one matter for long.

Mr. Liu carried the now-compliant little snake back to his bedroom on the second floor.

A faint, elusive fragrance permeated the air, emanating from a redwood incense burner in the corner, intricately patterned with silver plum blossoms. The room featured some Chinese furnishings, but overall leaned toward Western style. Willow Mansion had been built in an era when the West was emulated, and in the century since, little had changed. Mr. Liu placed Bai Ying on the large bed in the center of the room. He seemed terribly frightened; the moment he landed on the soft mattress, he curled himself into a tight ball.

Amid the room’s subtle fragrance, Bai Ying detected another scent.

It was steady and hard, like the aroma of wood, but originating from a massive tree with dense branches—like jagged limbs that could strangle any intruder in its territory. In his daze, Bai Ying realized it was the scent of a demon.

Only demons could “smell” this on one another.

Bai Ying didn’t know that he himself smelled like a sweet flower, a tender leaf, or a morsel of delicate pastry. He only knew this scent terrified him, as if facing a tree that could crush him or a swamp that swallowed all sound.

Bai Ying hugged himself, trembling slightly.

Mr. Liu wanted to comfort him. Unfamiliar with soothing a young demon, the great demon awkwardly brushed aside Bai Ying’s sweat-dampened bangs and tilted his chin up to meet his gaze. “I am your kin.”

His eyes shifted partially to serpentine slits, emerald green and gleaming coldly.

Bai Ying was a snake too, but with round pupils—utterly harmless.

Mr. Liu couldn’t understand why the little snake looked even more frightened.

A rare flicker of distress stirred in his heart. Mr. Liu sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted Bai Ying’s back. “You’ve been drugged into heat. Do you remember what you ate?”

Drugged?

Bai Ying stared blankly at the word. So it wasn’t his body acting up on its own?

At the banquet, he had eaten so many little treats—lemon-flavored, strawberry, crumbly ones, soft ones, ice cream-filled, flowing cheese…

Seeing Bai Ying’s dazed expression, Mr. Liu knew he couldn’t recall.

Fine. Nothing happened on his turf that he couldn’t investigate.

“This isn’t a true heat cycle, so it won’t last as long. But since your body wasn’t prepared, the harm could be even greater.” Mr. Liu explained, “I’ll make you an antidote. Stay in the room obediently and don’t wander off.”

Even as he said this, Mr. Liu didn’t expect Bai Ying to behave. A gust of wind arose from nowhere, slamming shut the half-open window. The latch didn’t engage, but if Bai Ying tried, he’d find no amount of force could budge it.

With that done, Mr. Liu didn’t leave immediately.

“My name is Liu Qingzhang.” Even among the Zhong family, only a handful knew his full name. Now, he revealed it himself, lowering his gaze to Bai Ying. “Little snake, what is your name?”

Bai Ying didn’t respond. His mind burned with lust, and he was gnawing on the bedsheet, desperately resisting the surging tide within.

Never mind. He’ll find out eventually.

Mr. Liu rose and headed to the apothecary he hadn’t visited in ages.

Demons in human form could use mortal medicines, but even the best worked less effectively on demons than on humans. Inferior drugs like aphrodisiacs could produce even worse results. Thus, demons of old often studied medicine to handle unexpected bodily issues.

Three or four hundred years ago, Liu Qingzhang had used drugs to end his own heats prematurely. Later, as his demonic power deepened, heats no longer troubled him.

But he still remembered those old formulas.

However… would they be too potent for a little snake?

As he pondered, Liu Qingzhang removed a few potent herbs and added milder ones. To mask the bitterness, he mixed in dried flowers for fragrance. Worried the little snake might find it unpalatable, he coated the final pill in sugar.

Two quarters of an hour later, Liu Qingzhang returned with the pill, only to find the room empty of the little snake.

Its unique sweet scent lingered—he was still in the room. Yet seeing the disheveled, empty bed, Mr. Liu’s eyes darkened.

His face grew stern as he traced the scent effortlessly. Liu Qingzhang placed his hand on the wardrobe door. Before he could open it, the little snake inside panicked at his footsteps, bumping the cabinet and making a noise.

Hearing that self-incriminating sound, Bai Ying wanted to die.

He hugged his knees. Earlier, he couldn’t open the door or the window in his panic and had fled into the wardrobe, crawling deep inside. In the process, he knocked several neatly hung garments askew. Now he sat amid a pile of clothes carrying a faint sandalwood scent.

The big snake’s clothes smelled like this too.

The realization drew a whimper from Bai Ying. Wrapped in the big snake’s clothes, it felt as if he’d already been swallowed whole. His already foggy mind grew dizzier, his body torn between two extremes—instinctual fear and uncontrollable drug-fueled desire.

Terrified of being devoured by the big snake, yet unable to suppress his arousal, Bai Ying had been hard for a while now. Even without touching, the clear fluid leaking from the tip left him a sopping wet little snake.

Woo woo… I’m already like this. Can’t the big snake just not eat me?

“Don’t open it…” Bai Ying buried his face in his knees, mortified.

The muffled voice emanated from the wardrobe.

Liu Qingzhang suspected Bai Ying hadn’t even heard him mention making the antidote.

The door opened easily. The little snake was cornered with nowhere to go—ever since falling into Liu Qingzhang’s arms, escape had been impossible. Yet the iron-hearted great demon felt an uncharacteristic pity. Fine. He’s still just a child.

Liu Qingzhang didn’t open the wardrobe but coaxed from outside. “Don’t be afraid. We’re kin. I won’t hurt you.”

There are plenty of snakes that eat snakes…

The little snake shivered. “Don’t eat me…”

Liu Qingzhang chuckled. Only then did he understand the little snake’s fear. So that was it—he was afraid of being eaten?

A little snake in full heat, encountering a powerful kin, unafraid of violation or ravishment, yet worried about being devoured?

Liu Qingzhang tugged at his collar helplessly, easing a subtle heat stirring within. A demon’s heat could drag kin into the abyss of desire. Thanks to his profound cultivation, he endured. A lesser snake demon here would have skipped the antidote and tangled with the little snake already—devouring it down to the last bone fragment in another sense.

“Rest assured, I won’t eat you.” Liu Qingzhang promised, even cracking a rare joke. “You’re too small a snake to even fill the gaps between my teeth.”

He didn’t yet know the little snake’s true form size, but his own could fill this room, surpassing any recorded mortal python. In snake form, the little one wouldn’t even make a meal.

“I’ve brought the antidote. Eat it obediently, and the discomfort will pass soon.” Liu Qingzhang’s voice softened in a way his memories couldn’t recall. “I won’t open the door. You open it yourself, alright?”

He waited a long while before rustling sounds came from the wardrobe.

He’s crawling over my clothes—Liu Qingzhang realized suddenly, his suppressed desire threatening to rebound. He restrained it. Somehow, the great demon found himself half-kneeling before the wardrobe, lowering his presence to minimize intimidation, awaiting the door’s opening.

Bai Ying pushed the door open from inside.

Liu Qingzhang saw a pair of eyes brimming with tears, cheeks streaked with dried trails. In the wardrobe, Bai Ying had sobbed quietly earlier.

Soundless tears, but his eye corners flushed an alluring red. The innocent snake demon possessed a seductively beautiful face. He had shed his suit jacket to cover his disheveled lower half, leaving only a white shirt above—three buttons yanked open at the collar, revealing a slender neck, lean collarbones, and a glimpse of pale chest.

The wardrobe’s height put the seated Bai Ying at eye level with Liu Qingzhang. The great demon, long accustomed to superiority, exuded an oppressive aura. Yet his scholarly air lent him a steady elegance. Bai Ying glanced at him, then down at the pill in his palm.

Liu Qingzhang made no move, leaving it to Bai Ying. The little snake now resembled a mimosa, shrinking at the slightest touch.

Moments later, Bai Ying’s clothes slipped off, collapsing into a tangle with Liu Qingzhang’s garments. Then a white snake slithered out, its tail briefly caught on the ties that had bound its human form. The little white snake twisted several times before breaking free.

The white snake faced Liu Qingzhang, lifting its head slightly.

Liu Qingzhang understood and extended his hand. The little white snake climbed onto his palm and gulped down the pill.

Liu Qingzhang cradled its lower body and lifted it from the wardrobe.

His breath hitched briefly.

So it was such a tiny snake.