Chapter 34: Yaoxing Academy 34 Part 2

The stiff body trembled lightly.

The scene felt familiar.

These hands had once stroked his wounds like this, asking if it hurt.

His throat bobbed with difficulty. Lu Zhou suppressed the surging emotions and let out a low “Mm.”

He had long known that in front of this person, his body never obeyed his will. Whatever this person gave—warmth or pain—he would abandon everything else and submit to it wholeheartedly, willingly.

Sweet as honey.

Knees on the ground, Lu Zhou crawled forward a few steps on his knees, wrapped his arms around Xun Ji’s powerless calf, and buried his face in his thigh.

The scent of medicine spread. Every time the cotton swab touched Lu Zhou’s wound, his body shuddered, hugging Xun Ji tighter.

The latest episode on the TV ended, and the room fell quiet. Lu Zhou’s movements became especially noticeable.

Xun Ji mocked, “Does it hurt that much? You’re not secretly crying again, are you?”

Lu Zhou slowly lifted his face to look at him. Xun Ji inexplicably felt a chill from that gaze.

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m not crying.” His voice was soft as he repeated, “Xun Ji, it doesn’t hurt.”

He reached back along Xun Ji’s forearm to his wrist and gently gripped it. That hand held a cotton swab hovering over the wound on his head.

Lu Zhou suddenly pressed down hard.

The fragile swab snapped under the sudden force. The medicine-soaked cotton tip burst off, and the wooden stick stabbed viciously into the head wound.

The wound, which had just stopped bleeding after medication, gushed blood again.

“What are you doing?!” Xun Ji struggled, but couldn’t break free. He watched as Lu Zhou pounded the stick into the wound like grinding medicine, over and over.

“It doesn’t hurt… How could this count as hurt…” He muttered repeatedly, his hand growing more forceful.

Xun Ji looked at his bloodstained palm, irritation and anger rising. He narrowed his eyes, bent his right leg, and kicked hard at the person on his lap.

Though his legs were weak, they weren’t immobile. With this sudden burst of strength, Lu Zhou was caught off guard and kicked to the floor. The stick fell from his hand and rolled away.

“Lu Zhou, do you not understand human speech?” His voice was ice-cold. “I said I hate the bloody stench on you.”

Lu Zhou’s pupils contracted sharply. He froze in place.

The air stilled for a few seconds. Only when he saw Xun Ji’s right leg twitching slightly from overexertion did Lu Zhou seem to realize what he’d done. His body trembled violently.

He scrambled back to Xun Ji’s side, rolled up his pant leg, cradled the right leg, and gently kneaded and massaged it.

“Your body hasn’t recovered yet. You can’t strain it like that.” His tone was urgent. “Does it hurt? Xun Ji, does it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts, nonsense.” Xun Ji snapped irritably. “I’m not like you—I know when it hurts.”

Lu Zhou’s movements paused. His breathing quickened, his voice hoarse. “This little pain of mine… how could it count as hurt… Xun Ji, compared to your injuries, what’s this scratch…”

“Xun Ji, punish me however you want,” his eyes pleaded mournfully, “but don’t hurt yourself anymore, okay?”

Xun Ji looked down at him. “Punish you?”

“Yes.” Lu Zhou knelt on the ground, cheek against his calf, rubbing gently. “Punish me, Xun Ji… Master.”

Xun Ji: “…”

This was the first time Lu Zhou had called him that.

To think he could say it out loud.

Xun Ji, who had only ever mouthed it for tasks and never imagined being truly called Master, suddenly felt his ears heat up. The stuffiness in his chest vanished.

But he still had to maintain the School Bully dignity on the surface.

He schooled his face into a cold laugh. “Master? I can’t afford that.”

He leaned down, grabbed Lu Zhou’s collar, and enunciated, “Whose little dog runs off without a word for three years?”

Lu Zhou’s body went rigid.

“Whose little dog bares its fangs just because the Master is weak, completely disobedient?”

Lu Zhou’s breathing quickened. He denied vehemently, “I’m not…”

“Whose little dog… lusts after its Master, lays hands on him.” Xun Ji leaned closer, almost against his face. “Even after three years, still…”

Lu Zhou froze like he was pinned, not daring to move. His pitch-black pupils dilated unconsciously, as if awaiting Xun Ji’s final verdict.

But Xun Ji didn’t give him what he wanted.

Xun Ji whispered in his ear, “Still what? Say it yourself, little dog.”

Lu Zhou’s throat moved. He opened his mouth but made no sound.

Xun Ji waited patiently, watching his gaze slowly focus, meeting his eyes, patiently letting him submit by cupping his hand and pressing his forehead to the back of it.

Then, in the lightest whisper, he said it.

“…Even after three years, I still like the Master.”

Lu Zhou’s response was like a sigh.

“I like you, Xun Ji. From three years ago until now, not a single second have I not liked you.”

For some reason, though just before he’d worried with the System whether Lu Zhou didn’t want to see him, whether his feelings had faded with time, hearing this now, Xun Ji wasn’t surprised at all.

Like a heartless Master who’d teased his little dog into belly-up submission and now found it boring, Xun Ji suddenly pulled away from Lu Zhou and lazily leaned back in the wheelchair.

“Is that so?” he said. “After three years apart, I thought you’d found another Master.”

Lu Zhou knelt straight-backed on the ground, like a prisoner awaiting judgment, making his final statement before death.

“No one else, only you. These three years, I thought of you every day. I thought I could bear it—leaving you, no contact—but I couldn’t…”

His voice was like a parched spring, craving rain, embracing death.