Chapter 93: Soft-Eared Mama’s Boy 8 Part 2

Irritated by this unexpected predicament, Jiang Rang nonetheless adopted an uncharacteristically good-tempered expression. “So, Little Young Master Luo, tell me—how exactly do you plan to teach me that lesson?”

“I’ve been thinking it over. Maybe I was in the wrong before. Why don’t you let me go? Whatever you want to do, I promise I won’t resist.”

Luo Yunchun’s beautiful brows twitched. He bit his lip lightly, his narrow eyes shrouded in a hazy mist of fragrance, the faint sheen of moisture swirling within. After a long moment, he shook his head and looked away. “Jiang Rang, don’t try to fool me. After the way you humiliated me at Pill Peak Academy, I’m not falling for it again.”

“You’re not getting away today!”

Jiang Rang gritted his teeth. Luo Yunchun had tangled with him for so long simply because the Youngest Young Master’s pride had been wounded. If worst came to worst, he’d just take the whipping.

Sword cultivators tempered their bodies first and foremost, and Jiang Rang’s physique had been nurtured to perfection by Shizun Xie Lingfeng. A few lashes infused with spiritual energy would be no trouble at all.

The youth closed his eyes slightly and clenched his jaw as the whistling sound of the vine whip sliced through the air toward his ear.

But unexpectedly, the seemingly vicious vine whip never truly struck his skin.

Instead, a vine whip blooming with clusters of fiery red Delicate Begonias slithered in like a patterned snake with a life of its own. It slipped slowly up his sleeve, inching along the tender flesh of his thigh.

Jiang Rang’s eyes flew wide open in an instant. His voice trembled as his face burned crimson.

The youth, who had always seemed so experienced and unflappable in such matters, now appeared utterly green and helpless. “Luo—Luo Yunchun, stop this!”

Luo Yunchun’s face flushed even redder, as if faint wisps of shy steam might rise from his pores at any moment.

The beautiful youth in red said nothing. His eyes quivered as he leaned in close—like a massive spider demon entity, its barely human face hovering near the youth. The begonia fragrance crashed over him in waves.

And the vine whip inched toward the tight curve of the youth’s pale lips.

Jiang Rang’s mind went blank. In his twenty-odd years of life and ingrained beliefs, Shizun was the closest person to him. Until he found his fated partner, such intimacies were reserved for Shizun alone.

This from Luo Yunchun was utterly shameless, depraved!

But Shizun had taught him: when at someone else’s mercy, never act rashly. First, stay calm. Find the weakness. Strike decisively.

Jiang Rang forced himself to calm down. Physiological sensations made him tremble uncontrollably—the vines felt rough, yet the delicate begonia flowers atop them were impossibly soft, like warm, wet earth enveloping him.

He gritted his teeth, locking eyes on Luo Yunchun’s gaze, which refused to meet his own.

What was in those eyes?

Moisture, panic, shyness.

A hint of springtime warmth at the brows, and timid desire.

Did Luo Yunchun truly despise him?

Would someone who hated him do this? Even if they would, Luo Yunchun shouldn’t have that look on his face.

He should be lofty and superior, savoring the pleas and whimpers of a defeated foe, just like that day.

But he wasn’t. He couldn’t even spare Jiang Rang a single glance.

As if one more look would shatter his restraint, letting the flood of emotion in those watery eyes spill over.

A flash of white light pierced Jiang Rang’s mind. He remembered Luo Yunchun’s odd behavior that day in Pill Peak Classroom—and that book.

Amid the cloudy, misty ambiguity, he suddenly leaned toward Luo Yunchun’s lips, so close yet never quite touching.

The handsome, bound youth pressed a gentle, trembling kiss to those rosy lips.

In that instant, Luo Yunchun froze as if struck by lightning. Every movement halted; the flowers on the vines pressed still against one another. Jiang Rang couldn’t suppress a low hum.

The flushed, struggling youth’s throat bobbed slowly. He suddenly raised his gaze, pale eyelids fluttering, and said softly, “Luo Yunchun, don’t you know yet?”

Luo Yunchun stared at him in a daze, his face flushed as red as if it had been dabbed with rouge. His eyelashes trembled as he rasped, “W-What are you saying?”

Jiang Rang took a deep breath and said softly, “Luo Yunchun, the truth is, I like you. And you like me too, don’t you? That day at Pill Peak, I noticed your feelings right away. I was just teasing you, but you… you seem to have misunderstood me.”

Dead silence.

Absolute silence.

Jiang Rang continued, his fingers clenched tightly together. Yet his expression remained utterly serious as he gazed at the young man in red. He spoke word by word, “This is the first time I’ve ever liked someone. I don’t understand a lot of things, but I do know that if you truly like someone, you’ll cherish them. At the very least, intimate matters shouldn’t be handled so casually, right here like this.”

“Yunchun, let me go. I promise, once we return to the Primordial Sect, I’ll immediately go to your Shizun and your family to propose marriage. How about that?”

Luo Yunchun felt like he was drowning in those dark, starry eyes. He was clearly a deeply emotional person, and Jiang Rang’s heartfelt words filled his gaze with shimmering tears.

He seemed unable to believe it, as if he were still trapped in a dream—or perhaps in the pages of a romantic tale where love and happiness came crashing down on him all at once.

But Jiang Rang didn’t give him time to think. He leaned in and kissed him lightly once more.

A faint scent of grass and wood, as intoxicating as the fragrance that haunted his dreams night after night.

Luo Yunchun’s eyes quivered, and tears finally slid down his cheeks.

“Yunchun, let go of me, alright? I want to hold you.”

The young man’s voice was almost tender, stirring a dazed joy in his heart.

Luo Yunchun bit his lip. He gently rested his braided head on Jiang Rang’s shoulder. His thick eyelashes fluttered like butterflies ready to take flight. In a tiny, hesitant whisper, he said, “Jiang Rang, don’t lie to me. If you do… I swear, I’ll kill you.”

Jiang Rang suppressed a throbbing vein at his temple. He could barely stand this cloying, bizarre atmosphere with his former enemy. He wanted to pull his head back a little, but worried it might arouse suspicion. In the end, he didn’t move a muscle.

He forced a smile. “How could I? Let go of me quickly. I’ll explain everything slowly, alright?”

Luo Yunchun looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded lightly. His beautiful face was flushed with crimson, as exquisite as an immortal stepped from an ancient painting.

In that instant, Jiang Rang felt the stagnant spiritual energy around him flow freely again. The Spiritual Vines withered and retreated.

The next second, the Profound Black Sword flew from behind him, its razor-sharp blade gleaming coldly as it pressed against Luo Yunchun’s neck, white as fine jade.

Crimson blood trickled in fine lines from the shallow cut on his neck.

Luo Yunchun barely had time to react. He just stared blankly at Jiang Rang, his red lips parting and closing soundlessly. A web of bloodshot veins spread through his almond-shaped eyes, making him look terrifying in that moment.

It took a long while before the young man in red lowered his head and rasped in a strange, guttural voice, “You… lied to me?!”

Jiang Rang steadied his breathing and gave the man before him a once-over. Perhaps because of the other’s earlier offense and humiliation, he couldn’t resist reaching out to pat Luo Yunchun’s refined, handsome face. With a mocking tone, he said, “What a pretty face, and yet you’re such an idiot.”

“Who falls in love with someone in such a short time and proposes marriage? You think this is some cheap romance novel?”

Jiang Rang couldn’t help sneering as he backed away two steps. He pinched a Random Teleportation Talisman between his fingers, watching Luo Yunchun’s every move closely, wary of any tricks.

Once he was sure the other was too distraught to focus on him, he ignited the talisman without another word—though he couldn’t resist one last jab. “Consider this a lesson. Don’t be so stupid next time.”

With those words, the young man’s figure vanished from the spot.

Luo Yunchun stood frozen in place, his head bowed the entire time. Strands of hair clung to his cheek like ominous black needles.

Tears fell one drop after another, splattering on the ground.

Slowly, those transparent droplets took on a deep, vivid red hue.

In the soil, the delicate Delicate Begonias bloomed wildly, then withered at an alarming speed, dissolving into a thick, foul-smelling sludge.

Like bleached bones.

~~~

When Jiang Rang opened his eyes again, he was greeted by a vast expanse of sky and rippling water.

Seagulls soared across the horizon, their wings spread wide—enormously so, blotting out the sky and moon.

The mirror-like lakeshore was densely covered in precious spiritual herbs and medicines. Beautiful mushroom caps shaped like flower umbrellas trembled, shaking off star-like dewdrops. Everything was so breathtakingly beautiful it felt unreal.

He had no idea which part of the Secret Realm the Random Teleportation Talisman had sent him to, but even in this stunning place, Jiang Rang didn’t dare lower his guard.

He would never forget what Shizun had once told him: sometimes, the more beautiful a person or thing was, the more poisonous it could be.

The youth slowly rose from the grass that towered over him, the Profound Sword on his back humming faintly as it remained perpetually on guard.

In just a few moments, Jiang Rang had already donned several Protective Artifacts.

His vigilance was ironclad, and he kept his footsteps feather-light.

Rustling sounds of dirt and sand rose from underfoot, like the nibbling of grass insects on leaves and branches.

Everything was unnaturally still.

That silence held until Jiang Rang stepped out from the tall grass that had blocked his view, his field of vision suddenly expanding.

But the very instant his eyes took in the scene before him, the youth’s sharp black pupils shrank to pinpoints in sheer terror.

Ahead of him, beside the beautiful Mirror Lake, a man in flowing white robes lay quietly half-prostrated on the shore.

His skin was a ghostly white, nearly translucent, like the pristine snow crowning a heavenly peak. A cascade of long white hair was loosely bound at the nape with a strip of red silk, the stark, vivid contrast drawing the eye to the exquisite, languidly ill face it half-concealed.

The man was surrounded by clusters of herbs and fresh flowers, with even the lake’s surface dotted faintly with vibrant buds.

He appeared to be asleep, half his beautiful face submerged in the water like melting ice. One slender, sinewy wrist draped over the edge into the lake, and on that submerged wrist gaped a massive, gruesome slash—freshly inflicted.

Blood poured from the wound in thick rivulets, staining the crystal-clear Mirror Lake red in blooming clusters.

What chilled Jiang Rang to the core, however, was not the sight itself, but the Gem Dagger clutched tightly in the man’s other hand, flecked with bits of blood.