The little snake covered its eyes with its tail and trembled. The bow tied to its tail had long since become soaked and limp from the water, and the little snake shook and drooped just as pitifully as the bow.
Liu Qingzhang instantly shifted back to human form. He wanted to stroke the little snake on the wooden tray but worried that Bai Ying would become even more frightened, so his hand hovered a few centimeters above the snake’s head as he apologized, “I’m sorry. I scared you.”
Bai Ying: [Hiss hiss!]
Because he was so distraught, Bai Ying could only produce hissing sounds in his mind, which frustrated him endlessly. He wanted to tell Mr. Liu not to apologize, that he had overestimated his own courage, but the more panicked he became, the harder it was to calm his mind. The spell they used to communicate mentally required a certain level of focus, so for the moment, the little snake could only hiss back and forth in his head.
In his anxiety, the little snake finally lowered its tail.
Through the mist rising from the hot spring pool, Bai Ying saw Liu Qingzhang’s face full of remorse. The little snake’s inability to speak human words only convinced him further that he had truly terrified it. After several failed attempts to soothe him, Liu Qingzhang sighed, “Should I leave first? You might feel better alone.”
“Hiss hiss!” No!
The little snake shouted in his mind.
He felt immensely guilty. It clearly wasn’t Mr. Liu’s fault; he was just too timid. Unable to convey his thoughts accurately, and seeing Liu Qingzhang about to rise and leave the pool, Bai Ying panicked—
He shifted back to human form as well.
The hot spring water splashed with a loud crash.
A soft body fell into his arms, pale arms flushed slightly pink from the steaming water wrapping around his neck. In a reflexive reaction, Liu Qingzhang pressed one hand against the bonelessly soft lower back of the person in his embrace and stroked the other’s supple white nape with the other.
Liu Qingzhang’s pupils trembled, momentarily turning into the vertical slits of a snake.
The person in his arms remained oblivious. He clung tightly to Liu Qingzhang’s neck and said urgently, “Don’t go, don’t apologize…”
That voice rang clearly in his ears, yet it felt as if it came from afar. Liu Qingzhang’s mind grew hazy. This wasn’t right—it wasn’t appropriate. He thought to himself that the little snake wasn’t wearing any clothes; a senior and junior shouldn’t be in such a position. Compared to the hot spring water, the body temperature in his arms was cooler, yet it burned like fire, making Liu Qingzhang afraid to touch him.
His hands had nowhere appropriate to rest.
Liu Qingzhang first released Bai Ying’s nape, then tried to loosen his grip on the waist. There were two small dimples at the small of Bai Ying’s back, and his hand had previously pressed into one of them, the skin at his palm feeling as if it would ignite. When he let go, it was like releasing a flame that could burn him to ashes.
But without the support at his waist, Bai Ying’s body began to slide downward. The pool wasn’t very deep, but Liu Qingzhang feared his injured leg would hit the pool wall. Before his brain could process, his hand had already hooked under Bai Ying’s thigh, lifting his entire body. His palm supported the plump thigh, soft flesh spilling between his fingers. Liu Qingzhang’s scalp tingled, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
He wanted to let go, afraid Bai Ying would hurt himself; he wanted to shift his hold, afraid of touching somewhere even worse.
His vertical pupils narrowed thinner, as if fixated on prey. Yet there was no prey here—only a little snake that left Liu Qingzhang helpless. He didn’t dare look at him, his gaze falling on the flowering tree by the poolside. Unaware of the torment the python demon endured, the petals drifted down leisurely.
Though he didn’t look at the person in his arms, his mind involuntarily recalled the scene from the previous night when he had wiped down the little snake’s body.
The clothes soiled with mud and water needed changing, and the small cuts from gravel and glass needed cleaning. Plenty of people could have done these tasks for him—Liu Qingzhang never lacked servants—but the great demon dismissed everyone and handled everything personally.
Bai Ying, deep in sleep, was utterly unaware as his outer clothes were completely removed. The room’s temperature had been adjusted perfectly, so even exposed naked to the air, he wouldn’t feel cold.
Liu Qingzhang soaked a cloth in hot water and meticulously wiped his body clean.
Bai Ying rarely exercised, but his innate demonic physique left no excess fat, only faint outlines of muscle. Yet everywhere on his body yielded softly to pressure—he was a little snake, and his human form was just as soft and snakelike.
As a white snake, his human skin was snow-white, and even the color of his private areas was pale and faint, matching the slight pink at his joints.
The wet cloth missed not a single spot; Liu Qingzhang had seen it all.
He should have remained calm. After all, the one on the sickbed was his clan’s junior, twenty-five years old—not old for a human, just a child to him. He hadn’t done the wiping with any lascivious intent, only to prevent infection of the wounds and let Bai Ying sleep comfortably.
Yet a heat had risen in his heart.
Liu Qingzhang remembered when he had last felt this way: when the little snake in heat had blindly crashed into his arms. A demon’s heat could affect kin, arousing desire. It was merely physiological, unrelated to love.
Thus, at the time, even feeling stirred, Liu Qingzhang had calmly suppressed it with his cultivation base, thinking nothing of it.
But now Bai Ying’s heat had passed, and his own was still two months away. Where did this strange restlessness come from?
Liu Qingzhang had dressed Bai Ying in clean clothes and spent the night blowing cold wind outside.
Perhaps it was still due to the heat period.
That was Liu Qingzhang’s final thought. He couldn’t possibly harbor thoughts toward his clan’s junior.
He pinned the blame on his own heat period, which wouldn’t arrive for two more months.
Fortunately, it hadn’t happened again—until this very moment.
The little snake was adorable; Liu Qingzhang had known that for a long time, whether it was the flat head, round bean-like eyes, or soft body. But now that he had taken human form, Liu Qingzhang could no longer simply call him “cute.”
No matter how he told himself that Bai Ying was like a child compared to his age, Bai Ying was still an adult by worldly standards. His figure was slender, slim where it should be, plump where it should be—beautiful enough to unconsciously stir desire in anyone who saw him.
But Liu Qingzhang shouldn’t have these thoughts. Even as he admonished himself, he couldn’t stop recalling the full view of Bai Ying’s body he had seen, while Bai Ying’s soft voice continued by his ear, “I was just a little scared at first. Once I get used to it, I won’t be anymore…”
He clutched Liu Qingzhang’s clothes, telling him not to leave, to wait until he adjusted.
The uncontrolled fire in his body threatened to burn Liu Qingzhang to ashes.
Bai Ying’s hands suddenly grasped at empty air; that small bundle had vanished. He looked down in bewilderment, only to be lifted again. The black python he had seen not long ago now supported his body.
Liu Qingzhang thought that the little snake was innocently pure and ignorant, but he couldn’t continue holding him in human form.
Changing back to snake form should make it better, right?
***
Bai Ying clung to the python’s body, his entire form rigid.
He actually didn’t dare touch it, but now he couldn’t move at all… Wuwu, even if he needed to get used to it, he should have been warned first!
He needed at least eight or nine minutes of mental preparation…
Bai Ying wanted to cry without tears.
The black python coiled around his body and slowly swam about. Liu Qingzhang had deliberately restrained his strength, but Bai Ying’s body bruised easily, leaving faint red marks on his jade-like skin. Liu Qingzhang never forgot to support the injured leg; the python body parted Bai Ying’s legs, passing the root of his thighs where the skin was especially delicate. The sensation of scales brushing over made Bai Ying’s body tremble slightly.
His voice trembled too, “Mr. Liu, let me take a moment…”
The black python stilled, its head resting on the poolside. The smooth white stone there was cool, helping him calm a bit. After shifting to his original form, Liu Qingzhang regretted it—being a snake didn’t improve the situation much. A black python coiled around a beautiful youth seemingly sculpted from frost and snow wasn’t any purer than a mature man embracing a naked youth.
One man and one python stayed quietly for ten minutes before Liu Qingzhang asked, “Feeling better?”
Unlike the little snake demon, the great demon could speak human words directly from his python form.
“A-a little better.” Bai Ying psyched himself up, fixing his gaze on the python body he hugged. This was desensitization therapy, right?
The python body was thick and robust. A snake this large could swallow a little snake like a snack, and even an adult with effort.
This thought made Bai Ying’s heart clench, but he mustered his courage and reached out to touch Liu Qingzhang’s scales.
They were cool, cooler than the hot spring water, appearing hard and sharp but feeling smooth to the touch.
If Liu Qingzhang wished, his scales could sever metal and stone, but now he softened them all over his body, solely to avoid hurting Bai Ying.
One touch, then another.
Bai Ying found the desensitization therapy quite effective. Knowing full well in his heart that Liu Qingzhang would never harm him, much of his fear dissipated.
He placed his hand on Liu Qingzhang; the python’s scales were deep black, his human hand reddened from the hot water yet strikingly pale against them. Bai Ying thought Mr. Liu’s scales were beautiful too—clearly those of an exceptionally powerful great snake!
Bai Ying followed the python body to look at Liu Qingzhang’s head.
As he moved, the coiling python sensed it. Liu Qingzhang still faced away from him, but soon the bold little snake lifted the head and turned it toward himself.
Liu Qingzhang felt helpless. The fire in his heart still burned, but he forced himself to treat the little snake with calm gentleness. He lightly touched Bai Ying’s fingertip; the youth’s hand was too small against the python’s skull. The black python flicked out its tongue, brushing the youth’s palm.
Bai Ying’s eyelashes quivered as he jerked his hand back, but he quickly overcame the urge to recoil and hugged the black python to his chest, letting the massive head rest on his shoulder.
Liu Qingzhang had always used his own strength to support his body weight, sparing Bai Ying the burden, but it still felt heavy on his shoulder—the python’s head had real heft.
Most importantly, the giant python’s head was right by the most vulnerable part of his body: his neck.
It was as if a weak prey had voluntarily offered its neck to a ferocious predator’s jaws. Bai Ying used this method to force himself to adapt to Liu Qingzhang.
His feet instinctively wanted to touch the bottom, but the python body held them up. Liu Qingzhang said, “Be careful not to hurt your leg.”
When gripped by fear, the little snake had trouble controlling his body; it was Liu Qingzhang’s constant vigilance over the injury that prevented secondary damage to the healing leg.
His heart felt as if soaked in warm water; Mr. Liu’s thoughtfulness instantly relaxed Bai Ying greatly. He let out a soft hum and tried to fully rely on Liu Qingzhang, letting his body float completely supported by the black python in the hot spring.
The black python’s body was robust and powerful, capable of easily crushing enemies, yet like a massive tree trunk providing cool shade.
“I think… I’m not afraid anymore,” Bai Ying said softly to Liu Qingzhang.
Liu Qingzhang asked, “Should I change back to snake form?”
“I want to soak a bit longer in human form.” Bai Ying drew out his words in a coquettish whine, the little snake starting to act spoiled toward the great snake again.
Liu Qingzhang had no resistance to the little snake’s coquetry. But the hot spring water was too clear; Bai Ying’s body below the surface was faintly visible. Each accidental glimpse made the fire in his heart burn hotter. Helplessly, Liu Qingzhang used his tail to draw over distant petals, letting them cover Bai Ying’s body.
What he saw, he could conceal; what he touched, he was powerless against.
Bai Ying comfortably hugged the black python, fully relying on him. The python body was softer than the poolside stones and kept him from slipping entirely into the water.
He was comfortable, but it tormented Liu Qingzhang. The youth’s soft, delicate body pressed tightly against him, forcing Liu Qingzhang to repeatedly suppress his physical reactions with his cultivation base.
This was an accident born of special circumstances.
Liu Qingzhang told himself.
He was still just the little snake’s senior.
