Chapter 59: [Extra Update]

At first, it was just containing the lips, like how Xie Jin had only rubbed against the surface. But soon, Bai Ying felt a slight pain as Liu Qingzhang lightly bit down with his teeth, nipping and sucking on the lip. What had been, in Xie Jin’s eyes, lips like a silver lotus flower tinted with rouge and powder quickly took on a more vivid hue, as if coated in lipstick or like flower petals that had been rubbed and crushed.

The flush at the corners of his eyes reemerged not long after fading, and a layer of mist clouded his gaze. Bai Ying wanted to struggle, but his hands were seized by the wrists and pressed against the ice-cold door. His knees were forcibly parted, with Liu Qingzhang’s knee wedged between them, rendering him immobile. Bai Ying kicked forward with effort, mostly hitting air, occasionally grazing Liu Qingzhang’s leg—but Liu Qingzhang’s body was like forged iron. His slippers fell off, and Bai Ying only felt pain in his toes.

“Is this how he kissed you?” Liu Qingzhang finally released the now-vivid lips he had ravaged and asked Bai Ying, lowering his head.

His pupils had narrowed into thin slits, staring at the person before him like a top predator in the rainforest eyeing feeble prey.

Bai Ying trembled slightly, unable to utter a word.

Liu Qingzhang gave him no chance to speak and leaned down to kiss him again.

This time, he directly pried open his lips. Bai Ying’s eyes widened—his mouth… a tongue had slipped inside. This wasn’t it at all. Only now did he answer Liu Qingzhang’s question in his mind. Xie Jin hadn’t kissed like this. Xie Jin had only tasted the surface lightly, indulgent yet restrained. But Liu Qingzhang was now like a merciless invader, forcing open his clenched teeth, plunging into his mouth, and plundering wantonly.

Bai Ying made muffled “mmph mmph mmph” sounds. He wanted to bite down, but Liu Qingzhang pinched his chin first. He pounded Liu Qingzhang’s back hard with his free hand, but instead of making him let go, it backfired—Liu Qingzhang grew even more excessive.

He entwined Bai Ying’s tongue, saliva uncontrollably dripping from the corner of Bai Ying’s mouth. Bai Ying desperately twisted his head aside to escape the deep kiss that was nearly suffocating him, but Liu Qingzhang seemed to punish him for it. Bai Ying felt the tongue tangled with his change.

It became thin and long, like a flexible strip of flesh. Bai Ying’s pupils contracted.

It was a snake’s tongue.

The snake tongue nimbly swept over his upper palate, bringing a dense itchiness, and probed deeper into his mouth, as if burrowing into his throat.

His mouth felt thoroughly invaded, inside and out.

Bai Ying shuddered and lost the strength to resist. Liu Qingzhang largely maintained his human form, but his vertical pupils and snake tongue made Bai Ying feel as if he had been caught in the mouth of a python.

His consciousness gradually blurred, his eyes turning hazy. Bai Ying still hadn’t learned to breathe during a kiss. Only when he was on the verge of passing out from lack of oxygen did Liu Qingzhang finally release him.

“Is this how he kissed you?” Liu Qingzhang asked again, his voice hoarse, suppressing raging fury. The surveillance had only captured Xie Jin kissing Bai Ying without showing details—Bai Ying’s body had mostly been blocked by Xie Jin. Every time he imagined how far the little snake had been taken, the anger ignited in his heart threatened to burn him alive.

Tears rolled down Bai Ying’s cheeks. He didn’t answer Liu Qingzhang’s question but asked instead, “…Why?”

Why do this?

“Your chosen master can, but I can’t?” Liu Qingzhang was driven mad by jealousy.

Neither can. Bai Ying thought. Neither the owner nor an elder can.

But he couldn’t voice it, for Liu Qingzhang’s hand slipped under the hem of his bathrobe, caressing his thigh. Bai Ying trembled uncontrollably; that hand was moving upward, and fear left him speechless.

Bai Ying’s skin was naturally cool, but that large hand was scorching hot.

“Why is the little snake not wearing anything underneath again?” Liu Qingzhang asked him.

His questions no longer needed answers.

Not long ago, Bai Ying had been sitting on the edge of the bathtub, lost in thought while playing with a plastic duck floating on the water. He had happily left the bathroom upon hearing Liu Qingzhang’s knock, subconsciously relying on him, believing that with Mr. Liu there, all troubles would vanish like smoke. He had even planned to transform back into his original form with Mr. Liu later and play with the little yellow duck in the bathroom. But he hadn’t expected that Liu Qingzhang would bring confusion and tears this time.

Liu Qingzhang lifted Bai Ying’s thighs and, without another word, scooped him up, carrying him all the way to the large bed in the room.

Bai Ying hadn’t specifically chosen the room’s location, but it was the off-season for tourism, with many empty rooms at the hotel. The front desk, seeing him drenched and pitiful from the rain, had assigned him the best-positioned one of the same type. This room also had a large floor-to-ceiling window, its curtains open. He couldn’t see West Lake outside, but he could see the river view. The buildings along the river were lit up brilliantly, neon lights filtering through the fine rain into the room, falling on the youth who had sunk into the bedding.

The bathrobe had loosened somewhat, exposing skin like rare white porcelain.

Bai Ying tried to pull the hem of the bathrobe together, but Liu Qingzhang pinned his hands down. With one palm, he pressed both of Bai Ying’s hands above his head and untied his tie with the other.

Bai Ying realized something and shrank back, wanting to flee but with nowhere to go—his wrists were ultimately bound by the tie. Liu Qingzhang shed his trench coat, tossing it to the floor, then climbed onto the bed, looming over Bai Ying from above.

Seasons held no meaning for great demons like him; he wore a long trench coat year-round, with shirts buttoned to the top. A demon nearly a thousand years old naturally had some rigid habits. Yet as he yanked off the tie, several buttons popped off, leaving his collar open.

Dark snake scales emerged on his collarbone.

Vertical pupils, snake tongue, snake scales—Liu Qingzhang seemed neither fully human nor demon, exuding a violent aura utterly unlike the gentle, tolerant elder in Bai Ying’s mind. Now, he was pinned beneath such a Liu Qingzhang, the tall man’s shadow nearly engulfing him completely.

“Mr. Liu…” Bai Ying choked out sobbingly, “Is it because of your rut?”

Liu Qingzhang asked him, “If I say yes, would the little snake be willing to help me relieve it?”

Bai Ying didn’t know how to answer, only that if Liu Qingzhang was doing this due to his rut, it would make him feel a bit better.

Liu Qingzhang didn’t know what answer he was hoping for either.

He couldn’t bear Bai Ying refusing him, nor could he bear Bai Ying agreeing out of filial respect for an elder. Liu Qingzhang simply tore through the window paper: “It’s not because of the rut. It’s just because I want you. I can’t stand others getting close to you before I do.”

Bai Ying didn’t understand why things had turned out this way: “I only saw you as an elder…”

“We can’t have that kind of relationship.” Liu Qingzhang wiped away a tear from the corner of Bai Ying’s eye, his touch gentle and pitying, but his words cruel. “Lu Changjun, Xie Jin, and perhaps other men—what they feel for you is exactly what I feel for you.”

It was like, a possessive love that wanted to monopolize.

Perhaps there had never been any elder-junior affection to begin with.

“Do you remember our first meeting?” Liu Qingzhang leaned down, tenderly kissing away the tears streaming down Bai Ying’s face.

Of course Bai Ying remembered. Back then, he had been induced into rut; now, it was Liu Qingzhang in rut—their situations seemed reversed.

But back then, Liu Qingzhang hadn’t taken advantage. He had let him rest in his room, swiftly made an antidote, and even turned away while he changed clothes. It had only been months—why had Mr. Liu become like this?

Unreasonably pinning him down, kissing him, pulling his bathrobe further open… As Liu Qingzhang’s hand slid up his thigh, Bai Ying shed tears of shame.

“Back then, this place was full of water. Did you clamp onto my clothes and rub against them uncontrollably? After you left, the wardrobe was filled with your scent.” Liu Qingzhang said words that mortified Bai Ying to death.

“Don’t say it…” His voice trembled pitifully.

But Liu Qingzhang wouldn’t let him have his way: “Later, when you turned back into a little snake, you still had that water on you—those scales there were all flipped out.”

“Don’t say it…” Bai Ying was practically begging. Every word made it crystal clear to Bai Ying that Liu Qingzhang wasn’t looking at him as a junior—otherwise, how could he remember those places so vividly?

Liu Qingzhang sighed softly: “Whether snake or human, it’s all so beautiful.”

Feeling himself gripped, Bai Ying stiffened all over and struggled recklessly. He kicked upward hard at Liu Qingzhang above him, heedless of whether he’d hurt himself.

Liu Qingzhang had no choice but to release him, instead controlling his legs. He seized Bai Ying’s ankles and lifted his body slightly, allowing a clearer view. The bathrobe barely clung to Bai Ying anymore; even the collar had been tugged wide during his struggles, revealing two pale pink points in Liu Qingzhang’s eyes.

His desire should have surged even higher.

But at the same time, he saw Bai Ying’s eyes brimming with tears. He didn’t know how long he’d been crying—seemingly uncontrollable since Liu Qingzhang first kissed him. He couldn’t fight Liu Qingzhang physically, but what shattered him more than his physical weakness was Liu Qingzhang’s coercion.

He had always revered and depended on Liu Qingzhang as an elder, yet now he had done these things to him.

“Liu Qingzhang,” Bai Ying called the python demon’s name directly for the first time, “I hate you!”

His tone was less disgust and more heartbroken pain from being unable to truly hate.

It was like a basin of cold water dumped over his head, extinguishing the lust that even the Cold Pool couldn’t suppress.

Those tear-soaked eyes, with their shattered gaze, pierced Liu Qingzhang’s heart like the sharpest blade. He released Bai Ying’s ankles and suddenly realized how outrageously he had acted toward Bai Ying, driven by jealousy and desire. Yet after he let go, Bai Ying didn’t kick at him as before—as if in despair. He merely turned his face aside, silently shedding tears, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” Liu Qingzhang apologized futilely.

He gathered the disheveled bathrobe and saw the shocking finger marks he’d left on Bai Ying’s thighs. He went to untie the tie binding Bai Ying’s wrists, only to find the skin there chafed raw from his struggles.

The bloodstains stung Liu Qingzhang’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, grasping Bai Ying’s hand. “I’ll get you some medicine.”

Bai Ying didn’t shake off his hand at that moment, but the instant Liu Qingzhang left, he burrowed into the covers. The bedding bulged into a large lump, and when Liu Qingzhang returned with the ointment, Bai Ying refused to emerge no matter what.

“I don’t want to see you!” came a muffled voice from inside. “I hate you!”

“Then I’ll leave the ointment by the bed. Can you apply it yourself?” Liu Qingzhang wanted to pat the lump reassuringly, as he used to, but as his hand descended, he realized he had shattered their former relationship with his own hands—it could never go back, and Bai Ying wouldn’t trust or depend on him like before.

In the end, he withdrew his hand.

Liu Qingzhang placed the ointment by the bed. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew he must. The moment the door closed, Bai Ying was still saying, “I hate you.”

Liu Qingzhang stood desolately in the corridor outside the room all night.

It wasn’t until the next day, after the rain cleared and the doctor disguised as hotel staff delivered breakfast to Bai Ying and emerged to tell Liu Qingzhang that Bai Ying was fine, that he finally left the hotel.

Before leaving, he asked the doctor, “Is he still very upset?”

The doctor: “…”

She wasn’t a psychologist; she had only checked his injuries. Bai Ying’s hands had just some superficial scrapes—alarming due to his skin’s tendency to mark easily, but he had applied the medicine himself last night, and by morning, it was nothing.

“He ate quite a lot,” the doctor finally said. “He probably isn’t that upset anymore.”

Liu Qingzhang remained worried and wanted to stay longer, but then he received a message from Bai Ying.

Bai Ying: [I know you’re there.]

Bai Ying: [If you don’t leave, I’ll hate you even more.]

Liu Qingzhang wanted to apologize again, but his message showed he had already been blocked.

With a bitter smile, Liu Qingzhang pocketed his phone. Of course, he had ways to stay near Bai Ying without him noticing, but he didn’t want to deceive him. Helplessly, he left the hotel.

After blocking Liu Qingzhang, Bai Ying felt only a fleeting moment of relief before his heart filled with a profound sense of helplessness and disorientation. He tossed his nearly dead phone aside, clutched the collar of the bathrobe he hadn’t changed out of all night, knelt on the bed, and stared blankly at the sky outside the window, which had already cleared up.