Chapter 53

“Explain yourself clearly. What exactly happened?”

Jing Chi clearly remembered that Pei Rui’s mental power riot wasn’t supposed to happen at this time.

In that moment, Jing Chi’s serious expression actually made the military female think he bore some resemblance to Pei Rui.

The military female took a deep breath, steadied himself, gathered his thoughts, and continued, “Here’s the thing. Originally, everything was going normally and smoothly as we ambushed the mutant energy beasts with the general. We were just about to wipe out their entire nest in one go.”

“But then, out of nowhere, the general’s mental power suddenly rioted. There was no warning at all. Fortunately, he clung to the last shred of his sanity and had a few of his subordinates escort him back. But the general’s condition is very bad right now.”

How could it possibly be good? Normally, when a female insect’s mental power rioted, the only ways to get through that ordeal were to seek relief from a male lord’s mental power or to hole up somewhere quiet and endure it through sheer willpower.

But Pei Rui’s riot had come too suddenly. In order to protect the entire army, he’d forced himself to fight it back. The more one suppressed it, the stronger the backlash would be.

On top of that, Pei Rui had endured too many such riots on his own in the past, which had already caused lasting damage to his mental sea.

This time, unless he could get through it with a male insect, Pei Rui might truly be in mortal danger.

But here they were—how were they supposed to find a male insect?

At the thought, the military female nearly broke down in tears. Pei Rui was a legend in their hearts, the guiding star of their military lives. Not one of them wanted to see such a female insect fall here.

Seeing the military female’s expression, Jing Chi knew the situation was both urgent and dire. He immediately grabbed the other’s arm and pulled him along, his tone laced with anxiety. “Take me to Pei Rui.”

The military female wanted to say that even if he went, it wouldn’t help—he wasn’t a male insect, after all. He’d just be in the way.

But when he met Jing Chi’s calm, steady gaze, for some reason, he suddenly felt that this female insect before him could bring hope to Pei Rui.

Without another moment’s hesitation, he led Jing Chi to where Pei Rui had been settled.

While Pei Rui still had a sliver of reason left, he’d ordered them to lock him in there, clear out all the other female insects, and station a few military females at the door—to keep him from getting out and to keep everyone else from going in.

A female insect fully lost to a mental power riot became irritable and violent, with no control over their actions. Moreover, the mental power they emitted at such times could affect other female insects, and the higher the rioting insect’s mental power level, the greater the impact.

Jing Chi had barely reached the door when the guards blocked his path.

“Let me in,” Jing Chi said coldly, though his eyes remained fixed on the door, filled with worry.

The military females understood Jing Chi’s concern. Over this time, everyone had seen how Pei Rui had grown somewhat close to him, and they knew Jing Chi held a special place with the general.

Even so, the military females remained stoic in their duty. “Sorry. The general’s orders were clear: no one goes in.”

Jing Chi looked up, staring down the female insect blocking him, and said word by word, “What if I told you I have a way to help him get through the mental power riot period more safely? Would you still keep me out?”

A flash of surprise showed in the military females’ eyes, and their expressions turned hesitant.

In this emergency, Jing Chi had no time to argue with them. “Here’s the deal—two choices. I beat you and go in, or you step aside. Either way, I’m going in today, and I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens.”

The military females weren’t afraid of a fight with Jing Chi. Compared to standing around uselessly outside while their general suffered, it was better to trust his words.

Even a little help would be something.

The military females exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, steeled their resolve, and stepped aside to let him pass.

Even if Pei Rui punished them later when he woke, it would be worth it.

“And don’t let anyone else in.”

With that, Jing Chi strode inside.

He didn’t even need to say it—they had no intention of letting anyone else through. The only reason they’d allowed Jing Chi in was his claim, and more importantly, Pei Rui’s evident regard for him.

The room holding Pei Rui had been built as an emergency shelter for dodging danger—sturdy construction that could block mental power from leaking out. Who would have thought it would end up being used for the general himself?

The space inside was completely sealed, pitch black, so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face. Fortunately, the Insect Clan’s night vision was excellent.

Jing Chi could clearly make out the path ahead. After walking for about a minute, a spacious area came into view.

There was only one bed in the room, with a tray beside it holding ample nutrient liquid, disinfectants, healing agents, gauze, and the like.

Clearly, the military females under Pei Rui had prepared everything he needed.

This also meant they had witnessed Pei Rui weathering his mental power riot periods alone far too many times.

A muffled grunt echoed from the corner.

Jing Chi followed the sound and realized Pei Rui wasn’t on the bed at all. Instead, he had curled up in the shadows.

Without hesitation, Jing Chi walked over.

For Pei Rui right now, even breathing was pure torment.

It felt like invisible hands were churning relentlessly in his mental sea. Chaotic mental power tore at his brain, waves of agony rampaging within, desperate to shatter the confines of his skull.

This outbreak was more excruciating than any before.

Only up close did Jing Chi see Pei Rui’s face clearly—utterly drained of color.

The man who couldn’t abide so much as a wrinkle in his clothes now looked utterly wretched.

Sweat-soaked strands of hair plastered to his forehead, those striking eyes bereft of their former brilliance, hollowed out by pain and distortion twisting even his features.

He clutched fistfuls of his own hair, body hunched tight, as if huddling could blunt the suffering. But it was futile.

The pain refused to yield. This silent mental massacre raged on.

Jing Chi caught the metallic tang of blood in the air. He suspected the insect had turned to self-harm just to dull the mental agony.

Seeing Pei Rui like this wrenched at Jing Chi’s heart, a sharp pang seizing it.

He crouched down and murmured softly, “I’m here, Pei Rui.”

The faint tremor in Jing Chi’s voice roused the last flicker of Pei Rui’s awareness. No matter what, he refused to let Jing Chi see him in such an unsightly state. He wanted the image he left behind to always be one of perfection.

Mustering his final reserves of strength, Pei Rui rolled away, turning his back. His voice came out ragged and broken, forcing out just a few words: “You… leave.”

In the next instant, a fresh spike of pain in his head drove him to slam it against the wall.

Jing Chi lunged forward, seizing Pei Rui and trying to drag the female insect away from the corner before he could hurt himself more.

But the moment Pei Rui registered the touch, he recoiled violently, shoving Jing Chi away with raw rejection.

Caught off guard, Jing Chi tumbled to the floor with a sharp hiss.

That minor ache was nothing—mere dust compared to the inferno Pei Rui endured.

Yet when the female insect heard Jing Chi’s gasp, realization dawned that he’d hurt him by accident. For a fleeting moment, he stilled completely. But seconds later, he growled at Jing Chi again:

“Go… stay… far away. You’ll get hurt.”

He dreaded losing all reason, unable to rein in his own body.

Deep down, it all boiled down to one fear: harming Jing Chi.

Pei Rui’s actions left Jing Chi torn between heartache and frustration.

Even in this state, the insect fretted over injuring him while ignoring his own dire peril.

Jing Chi scrambled to his feet. This time, he didn’t hold back. He grabbed Pei Rui, clamped down on the female insect’s wrist, and pinned him firmly against the wall.

Perhaps truly terrified of hurting Jing Chi, Pei Rui summoned every ounce of willpower to fight the torment in his mind. He barely resisted Jing Chi’s hold.

The next moment, something soft pressed against Pei Rui’s lips.

Without a second thought, Jing Chi kissed him. Blood tainted the male insect’s mouth—he’d clearly bitten through his own lip in agony.

Jing Chi’s lips brushed gently at first, then plunged deeper as Pei Rui instinctively tried to pull away, pouring all his pent-up worry into the unyielding claim.

At the same time, Jing Chi unleashed his mental power.

In that vulnerable instant, Pei Rui offered no real guard against him.

The male insect’s mental power slipped into the female insect’s mental sea.

Jing Chi shut his eyes, lips locked with Pei Rui’s in a breathless exchange, while his power unraveled the female insect’s mental sea—like a snarled ball of yarn slowly coming undone.

Mental silk threads wove through Pei Rui’s mind, a soothing breeze gradually easing the searing pain.

But it wasn’t quite enough.

Jing Chi sensed Pei Rui’s mental sea hadn’t fully yielded to him. Lingering traces of wariness and resistance held firm.

This was, after all, Pei Rui’s first time undergoing mental power guidance.

The kiss could only blunt the immediate suffering—it wouldn’t fully restore his clarity.

Something more was needed.

Jing Chi’s lips parted from Pei Rui’s, a glistening silver thread trailing between them from the intensity of their kiss.

Some color had returned to Pei Rui’s previously pale face. His eyes were red at the corners, his lips slightly swollen, radiating an irresistible allure.

His hand gently hooked around Jing Chi’s neck, his forehead resting on Jing Chi’s shoulder. The female insect nestled entirely in Jing Chi’s arms, his breathing soft and ragged.

“Do you like me?” The young man’s lips brushed lightly against Pei Rui’s earlobe, his exhaled breath hot and scorching.

The rich pheromones emanating from his body filled the entire space.

Instinctively, Pei Rui leaned toward the source of the strongest pheromones, rubbing his cheek gently against Jing Chi’s neck in silent response.

In this moment, Pei Rui was unusually obedient and pliant. Clearly, Jing Chi’s mental power had overtaken all of his reason.

“Then, will you kiss me?” Jing Chi let out a soft breath, gently coaxing the female insect in his arms.

Pei Rui nodded. He was clearly an excellent student.

Mimicking Jing Chi’s earlier actions, his lips first landed on the neck of the insect beside him, then slowly trailed upward.

He gently took Jing Chi’s Adam’s apple between his lips, planting an intimate, lingering kiss there.

Jing Chi’s breath caught. His hand tightened involuntarily around the female insect’s waist.

But he didn’t forget his primary task.

Jing Chi’s gaze lowered slightly. His slender fingertips shifted sideways, landing on Pei Rui’s belt.

He was intimately familiar with this outfit—more than familiar. He located the hidden clasp on the belt and pressed it gently.

With a soft click, the belt was drawn away by a slender hand.

While Pei Rui was absorbed in kissing him, Jing Chi knew the moment had come.

A strange sensation suddenly washed over Pei Rui’s entire body. That inexplicable feeling made him want to pull away, to curl up and retreat.

But Jing Chi gave him no such opportunity.

He captured the man’s lips with his own, while his remaining hand pressed against Pei Rui’s back, drawing him even closer.

Pei Rui’s breaths came faster and more urgently. His grip on Jing Chi tightened.

Seizing the perfect opening, Jing Chi located the weakest point in Pei Rui’s mental defenses. Through that fleeting lapse, his mental power finally reached the depths of Pei Rui’s mental sea.

Pei Rui huddled in Jing Chi’s arms, his body trembling faintly.

As Jing Chi methodically sorted through it, the chaotic mental sea gradually calmed.

When it was fully complete, Jing Chi looked down. Perhaps from sheer exhaustion, or perhaps from the overwhelming events of the day, Pei Rui had already passed out.

Jing Chi carried the insect to the bed. He fed both Pei Rui and himself a bottle of nutrient liquid.

With the crisis past, the bone-deep fatigue from expending so much mental power crashed over Jing Chi. He pulled Pei Rui into his arms and sank into a deep sleep.