Ji Yuheng had not expected that the one who kidnapped him was actually Qixue.
Earlier, he had been on his way to the Prime Minister’s Mansion, planning to anonymously deliver the written petition into Prime Minister Li’s hands, when he was suddenly blocked by a ferocious and enormous demon.
This time, for the sake of secretly delivering the letter, he had not taken a carriage and had only brought one servant responsible for handing it over. The servant fainted on the spot from fear of the demon, and as he drew the short sword he carried to fight the demon, a group of people took advantage of his distraction to attack him from behind, knocking him heavily to the ground.
Though he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, he had not completely lost awareness. He vaguely felt these people stuff him into a sack and carry him onto a carriage, taking him away from the place.
Lying in the carriage, he gradually regained full consciousness but maintained his original position without moving, planning to eavesdrop on the bandits’ conversation to figure out their origins. Unexpectedly, the bandits were extremely cautious; those sitting in the carriage said not a word, and they arrived at their destination just like that.
The sack was carried into a room. Ji Yuheng kept his eyes closed and felt a burst of light fall on his eyelids—the sack had been opened.
A faint scent of incense lingered in Ji Yuheng’s breath. At this point, the bandits finally stopped deliberately concealing their identities and conversed beside him. Only then did he learn that the mastermind behind it all was Qixue.
Why had Young Master Xue kidnapped him? Was it just to tease him?
The thought that Qixue was right beside him made Ji Yuheng’s heart float like rootless duckweed, drifting with the waves, rising and falling restlessly without a moment’s peace.
But he did not open his eyes. He was not worried about his safety. No matter what, he knew Young Master Xue would not take his life. He…
As he thought this, a plump and full mass suddenly landed on his face, hot and soft as it pressed against his nose, making it hard for him to breathe.
Smelling the rich, delicate fragrance, Ji Yuheng realized what had happened. His face flushed red, even his neck tinged with crimson.
He did not dare breathe and could no longer pretend to be unconscious. He carefully lifted the fallen Qixue, sat up himself, and knelt before Qixue. “Please forgive this subject’s offense, Your Ladyship…”
It was clearly Qixue who had brought him here bound, yet he obediently knelt to beg forgiveness, even worrying that he had displeased Qixue.
Qixue had been startled by the sudden slip. Sitting in the chair, he calmed his emotions and casually felt his leg—no harm done. He was not worried about anything else; he just feared accidentally breaking his own leg.
It seemed he truly could not lay a hand on Ji Yuheng. He had only dragged over a weapon, had not done anything yet, and already suffered retribution.
Qixue sighed silently and looked at Ji Yuheng with jealousy. What virtue or ability did this guy have? Why was he the protagonist, blessed with such abundant destiny? Could he really do nothing to him?
The more he thought, the angrier he became. He swung at Ji Yuheng’s face, slapping him, but he did not dare use force. Coupled with his naturally weak strength, it landed lightly, more like a pat on the cheek.
Ji Yuheng remained still, letting Qixue vent on him. Qixue kicked him a couple more times but again did not dare use strength, so it did not even hurt Ji Yuheng. Instead, it left Qixue stifling internal injuries. He simply stopped moving. “Do you know why I had you brought here?”
“This subject is dull-witted and does not know, Your Ladyship,” Ji Yuheng replied with his head bowed.
“Because I hate you.”
Qixue grabbed his collar, pulling his body forward. “I loathe you… loathe how ruthless and hypocritical you are. Everyone praises you as a gentleman, but I know exactly what kind of person you are. Ji Yuheng, you’re so false it makes me sick.”
His tone carried astonishing hatred, carving a bloody gash in the tip of Ji Yuheng’s heart, making it tremble with unrelenting pain.
Ji Yuheng, of course, did not know the true reason for Qixue’s loathing and could only attribute it to that night.
That night, to help Young Master Xue dispel the drug’s effects, he had smeared medicinal juice all over his body and seen him naked. Though he had not truly touched Young Master Xue, he had still offended him and shamefully hidden away the undergarment stained with his fragrance.
It was only natural for Young Master Xue to despise him. He was indeed a false gentleman, unworthy of Young Master Xue’s favor.
“I’m sorry.” Ji Yuheng’s heart felt like it was being sliced by knives. He even forgot the gap in their statuses and apologized in agony. “It’s all my fault. You can dispose of me however you wish. I am at your mercy.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Qixue snorted coldly. It was not like he could really do anything to Ji Yuheng. “Commit suicide then. Die, and I’ll forgive you.”
Ji Yuheng fell silent for a moment, then slowly stood up. “If that’s what you want…”
“No!”
Seeing him take it seriously, Qixue hurriedly grabbed his clothing hem. What a joke—if Ji Yuheng really went to his death, the one who would die in the end would not be Ji Yuheng himself, but someone else, like this unlucky guy.
With Qixue tugging his hem, Ji Yuheng’s emotions were complex and indescribable—sourness and guilt mingled with a thread of unspeakable joy. The little rabbit was still the same little rabbit: too kind, too soft-hearted. Even hating him, he could not bear to let him die.
Without needing Qixue to say more, Ji Yuheng knelt again, his eyelashes lowered, his expression gentle and obedient.
Qixue wanted very much to kick him, but halfway through lifting his leg, he slowly put it down. He feared hurting Ji Yuheng and suffering backlash himself.
How could he humiliate Ji Yuheng without causing him pain?
Qixue pondered wicked ideas. After thinking for a moment, he lightly nudged Ji Yuheng with his toe. “At my mercy, huh? Then kneel and massage my feet, serve me like you would a master.”
He kicked Ji Yuheng’s thigh again, making him kneel on one knee and rest one of Qixue’s legs on his bent thigh. “From now on, you’re my slave. Every night, come to Chenglu Palace to serve me. Understand?”
His Majesty had been busy lately with matters of establishing an heir, handling state affairs until late every day. As long as he waited until deep into the night to see His Majesty, he could use the evenings to torment Ji Yuheng—it could not be more perfect.
“…Yes.”
Ji Yuheng’s breath hitched as he gently cradled Qixue’s foot. “…Should I remove the shoes and socks?”
“Nonsense. How else can you massage without removing them?”
Qixue stepped on Ji Yuheng’s chest, deliberately intimidating him. “Don’t think of slacking off. If you don’t massage me comfortably, I’ll charge you with a capital offense.”
This kick was no different from a kitten playfully pawing. Being stepped on made Ji Yuheng’s heart soften, a tingling itch rising from his bones to his fingertips, making them throb faintly.
Ji Yuheng still could not guess Qixue’s intentions. If Young Master Xue truly hated him for taking liberties that night, why let him touch his bare feet? Did Young Master Xue really think this was humiliation and revenge?
Ji Yuheng felt no humiliation at all. In fact, all his embarrassment stemmed from inner joy. He knew he should not be happy, tried hard to endure it, but…
Seeing Ji Yuheng’s ashamed and embarrassed expression, Qixue thought his humiliation had worked and secretly rejoiced.
He lightly stepped on Ji Yuheng’s thigh again. “Why so slow? Are you planning to use your mouth to remove my shoes and socks? If you dawdle any longer, believe it or not, I’ll make you lick my feet?”
With those words, Qixue felt he had made great progress—truly vicious. How had he come up with such a malicious scheme?
But making Ji Yuheng lick now would not do; humiliation had to be gradual. Otherwise, he feared Ji Yuheng might kill him in rage. Besides, he himself could not stand having his feet licked.
…
Ji Yuheng’s face burned red as he lowered his head, removed Qixue’s shoes and socks, revealing snow-white feet carved like exquisite jade.
It was not the first time he had seen Qixue’s feet, but that night the candlelight had been dim, like a veil over them, everything hazy. Now, everything was clear and distinct. He even presumptuously cradled the beauty’s delicate feet in his palms, personally feeling the supple smoothness and tenderness of the skin.
Ji Yuheng was nearly stunned, as if placed in a steamer, steam rising and drenching him in sweat, heat pouring from him endlessly.
He did not dare move. The slender fingers resting on the instep trembled slightly, as if holding some fragile, priceless treasure. Even pressing harder would defile it.
Seeing him daze off, Qixue urged him impatiently. “What are you spacing out for? Feeling wronged? Even if you are, massage me anyway. Why else did I have you brought here?”
“It’s not like that, Your Ladyship… I don’t feel wronged.”
Ji Yuheng’s throat bobbed, his throat dry. He spoke with difficulty and hoarseness. “This isn’t humiliation for me. If you truly hate me, you should torture me properly—whip me, hurt me for real—instead of having me massage your feet… This is too lenient.”
Qixue flew into a rage. “You think I don’t want to!”
It was because he could not!
But from Ji Yuheng’s perspective, it took on another meaning: Qixue wanted to, and could, but chose not to… because he could not bear to let him suffer?
Ji Yuheng’s hands shook violently. He bowed his head deeply and whispered to Qixue, “You can hurt me as much as you want. It doesn’t matter how you treat me. But having me massage your feet isn’t punishment… it’s… a reward.”
“Who are you fooling? Look at you shaking with anger.”
Qixue scoffed, dismissing Ji Yuheng’s words as nonsense. “If massaging feet is a reward, then if I kissed you, wouldn’t you be over the moon?”
