Chapter 5

The dance tune was named Qingqiu, taken from the name of the Qingqiu Fox Clan. It depicted a scene of foxes worshiping the moon, with a melody that was lively and dreamlike, yet carried a hint of enchantment. This was the dance Qixue had selected for the evening.

He was not skilled in dancing. This was the only dance he knew, and he had memorized it only after watching the Spirit Fox Clan perform it countless times.

Every full moon, when the moonlight shone at its brightest, the Spirit Fox Clan—regardless of age or gender—would transform into human form and dance under the moon. This was their method of cultivation; dancing allowed them to absorb the moonlight, which greatly benefited their practice.

Qingqiu was their traditional piece, performed the most frequently. Qixue had watched every full moon, mimicking the moves in the form of Rabbit Tuan. Though clumsy, he wanted to learn anything that aided cultivation. He was a diligent rabbit.

He had long since mastered the dance movements. To perfect it, he had contacted Sang Chi the night before and asked for guidance.

Sang Chi had laughed at his clumsiness but dutifully accompanied him for most of the night. Only when Qixue was finally satisfied did he let Sang Chi sleep. “That’s enough. You’re no longer needed.”

“Don’t forget the reward you promised me. When you return, I want to see you dance,” Sang Chi said.

Qixue ignored him, tossed the token aside, and promptly forgot both his promise and Sang Chi himself.

Until the banquet began, Qixue believed nothing would go wrong. He had prepared for everything imaginable. Yet now, facing Wei Huai, a chill ran down his spine, nearly causing him to drop the fan. He wanted nothing more than to flee.

Small animals had keen senses.

Even with the fan blocking his view, Qixue could sense the intensely dangerous aura emanating from Wei Huai.

It was the scent of constant slaughter, steeped in countless bloodshed. The murderous intent was so thick it seemed not from a living person, but a monster forged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, cloaked in the skin of a handsome, godlike man.

Qixue’s hands trembled slightly as he held the fan, but he refused to back down. He took a deep breath, suppressed his fear, and slowly lowered the Sandalwood Fan, revealing his eyes—pure yet seductive.

His eyes were pitch-black, yet gentle and clear, as if holding shimmering autumn waters that flowed with intoxicating ripples. No direct gaze was needed; a mere sweep of his soft, seductive gaze was enough to shake hearts and sway souls.

The pipa sounded, and Qixue gracefully extended his limbs. His toes lightly tapped, his wrists rotated subtly, and with the beat, he snapped the Sandalwood Fan shut with a “pa.”

He suddenly lifted his head, revealing his stunning face. His gaze was as seductive as a fox demon’s, filled with tender affection as he looked toward Wei Huai at the seat of honor.

Foxes worshiping the moon naturally gazed at the moon. Throughout the dance, Qixue’s eyes remained fixed on Wei Huai—with admiration and deep affection, as if the man seated there was his moon, his deity.

The instant Qixue revealed his true face, nearly everyone was entranced. Even the music faltered for a moment as the musicians, bewitched by his beauty, forgot to play.

They could not imagine Wei Huai’s feelings at that moment, but they themselves—merely glanced at by Qixue—felt numb from head to toe.

Their minds felt light and dizzy, as if they had drunk a potion of bewitchment. Half their souls were hooked, firmly in Qixue’s grasp, while the other half could only cling to him with their eyes.

The pipa resumed haltingly, reaching its most lingering and enchanting part. Qixue knelt with bended knee, gazing up at Wei Huai. He spread the Sandalwood Fan flat and gently fanned it up and down—as if bewitching, as if tempting, as though luring the moon from the sky.

Indeed, a young official lost his soul and rose unconsciously, only to be yanked back by his colleague.

Wei Huai did not move or speak, but he indeed stared fixedly at Qixue, his gaze unwavering.

Qixue’s brows and eyes curved in a smile. He lightly kissed the fan’s surface and rose lightly, gliding toward the head of the table. Yet when only a few steps from Wei Huai, he floated away again. His gauze sleeves flared like a blooming azure lotus.

He moved like a true fox under the moon—clever and nimble, weaving between the banquet tables.

Those enthralled by him reached desperately for his hem, but he deftly evaded, leaving only a bewitching scent.

Those not yet bewitched hung their heads low, but he teasingly lifted their chins with his fan, unsatisfied until he won their adoration.

The pipa quickened, building to the climax of the melody. Qixue’s steps accelerated, spinning round and round. The silver pendants on his waist sash swayed, casting shimmering silver light that overflowed with beauty.

He approached Wei Huai again, this time truly reaching his side. He knelt against Wei Huai’s leg, pressing his cheek to the man’s thigh, pitifully begging for his favor.

Wei Huai lowered his eyes to look at him, neither helping him up nor driving him away.

He took his wine cup from the table, filled it to the brim, and held it to Qixue’s lips.

Qixue obediently gripped the cup’s rim with his teeth and boldly climbed onto Wei Huai’s knee. He rose slowly, settling onto Wei Huai’s lap. Still holding the cup, he leaned close to Wei Huai’s face, inviting him to share the wine.

Their breaths mingled, cheeks nearly touching. Qixue felt Wei Huai’s hand clasp his lower back—then suddenly exert force—

“Clang!”

The clear pipa halted abruptly. With the final sharp note rang the sound of metal striking.

Prefect Xu stared in shock at the head table. Wei Huai had suddenly drawn a short dagger, shattering the wine cup in Qixue’s mouth. The blade’s sharp edge now pressed against Qixue’s throat.

“Drip… drip…”

Fragments of the cup scattered across the floor. Wine trickled down Qixue’s robes. The gleaming blade reflected Qixue’s pale face.

Wei Huai smiled. “The dance was decent, but I’ve seen enough.”

At these words, Prefect Xu nearly suffered a stroke and fainted.

It was over—completely over. Wei Huai was truly unmoved by Qixue. Not only was his position as prefect finished, but Qixue’s life was now at stake!

At the very least… even if it cost his old bones, he had to protect Qixue. Qixue was innocent; it was all his fault for coming up with such a foolish idea in his senility…

Prefect Xu rose shakily from his seat, about to kneel. “This official, this official…”

But Qixue suddenly revealed a sweet smile.

He lowered his head and extended his red tongue, gently licking the wine from the dagger.

His soft red tongue glided over the blade. The slightest tremble from Wei Huai’s hand would send blood flowing, but Qixue showed no fear, placing full trust in him.

Unexpectedly, Wei Huai did not move the dagger, allowing Qixue to lick it clean without harming him in the slightest.

After licking away the wine, Qixue kissed Wei Huai’s fingertip and murmured softly, “Since the general doesn’t want to watch A Xue dance, A Xue won’t dance. Whatever the general likes, A Xue will accompany him in. As long as it makes the general happy, A Xue will do anything…”

He parted his lips slightly, taking Wei Huai’s fingertip into his mouth to suck and kiss, seeking his pleasure.

As if, should Wei Huai desire it, he would be his plaything, willingly at his mercy.

Wei Huai gazed down, watching the vivid soft tongue entwine with his fingertip, gradually glistening with wetness.

Suddenly, Qixue lifted his rippling eyes, filled with tender affection. Their gazes met.

It was soul-shattering.

“Clang—”

The bowls and cups on the table were swept to the floor by Wei Huai. He pressed Qixue onto the table, gripped his throat with one hand, and kissed his lips fiercely.

The officials watched in stunned silence as Wei Huai toyed with Qixue. What was happening? Hadn’t General Wei nearly killed him moments ago? How was he kissing him now?

Wei Huai’s grip was deft—not painful, but just enough to leave Qixue breathless, forcing his jaws wider. Yet his face soon flushed red, for Wei Huai only kissed deeper, denying him air.

In the suffocation, Qixue felt ever more comfortable, his body going limp as he hooked his arms around Wei Huai’s neck bonelessly.

The room fell deathly silent. The only clear sound was the wet noise of their kiss—utterly absurd. The young unmarried officials blushed furiously, wishing for a hole to crawl into.

But… undeniably, they envied Wei Huai, jealous that he alone could possess Qixue, while they could only meet the beauty in dreams.

Having kissed enough, Wei Huai finally released Qixue’s throat. He pulled him up, embraced him, and gently stroked his back to steady his breathing.

Qixue buried his face in Wei Huai’s chest. Wei Huai smiled faintly, scooped Qixue up by the waist, and strode out past the crowd.

Before leaving, Wei Huai remembered something. He turned to Prefect Xu. “Lord Xu, I know what you want, but don’t rush to ask. Think it over before telling me.”

He laughed. “What I can give far exceeds your imagination. Thank you for sending me such a treasure.”