Chapter 22

Chapter 22

With the situation working against him, the young man's thoughts raced, struggling to suppress the slight tremble of his fingers.

At this moment, he genuinely regretted his impulsive provocation, realizing that if his challenge failed, the consequences would be more than he could bear or wanted to face.

Ming Fei Yu was inhuman in all senses of the word, often indulging in the inhuman.

He needed to leave; there were difficult troubles awaiting his resolution, and he couldn't afford to stay here, nor did he wish to be tormented into unconsciousness, losing his initiative.

He had a subconscious habit of biting his lip when nervous, a sign that he was scheming a way out.

Ming Fei Yu naturally took notice of this.

He watched the youth bite until he bled without interruption, curious to see what excuse he would concoct this time to weasel out.

“I’m sorry, Second Brother.”

As soon as the young man spoke, Ming Fei Yu knew he was resorting to his old tricks again.

This tactic was tired yet frequently used; its effectiveness depended largely on his mood.

And his mood was foul now.

The young man’s expressions changed faster than flipping through a book; now, he seemed like an innocent, harmless boy, as if the person who had just crazily infuriated him to the brink of strangulation had never existed, nearly bringing Ming Fei Yu to laughter.

Once the youth's face softened, it became a stirring spring, captivating at a glance, ripples stirring in the heart as if touched by a spring breeze.

“Ah Yu, it wasn’t intentional, I was just blinded by anger. Can we both calm down a bit?”

He was adept at using his expressive eyes to craft an innocent and pitiful look, as though he was the one being bullied, yet it was he who had heartlessly bullied others.

Ming Fei Yu looked down at him indifferently, his face unreadable, not betraying his thoughts, only asking, "Do you realize your mistake?"

“I was wrong.”

His admissions of guilt were always straightforward and without pretense.

But he never truly learned from his mistakes, never remembered the lessons; he dared to make the same errors again and again.

That indifferent face bore a self-righteousness bred from habit; thus, even his lies were delivered without a blush or a skipped heartbeat.

Ming Fei Yu thought it was a result of being spoiled; only a tangible lesson would engrave the memory of pain.

Ming Fei Yu stared at him for a while, then suddenly reached out. The young man instinctively recoiled, thinking Ming Fei Yu meant to strike him, but instead, Ming Fei Yu gently massaged the spot on his back that had been hurt when he had been pushed down.

"...Ah Yu?"

Ming Fei Yu responded with a nonchalant "Hmm."

Yet the young man took this gesture as a sign of Ming Fei Yu's softening, a sigh of relief internally released, sensing that this tactic still held some sway.

"Thank you, Ah Yu."

He didn’t resist; going with the flow was the best strategy now. He pretended to casually study Ming Fei Yu's expression, even though Ming Fei Yu scarcely showed any emotion.

This, however, unsettled him, unable to decipher Ming Fei Yu's psychology.

Gradually, the pain in his back eased, but the caress did not cease, edging toward a more perilous direction, alerting him.

"Is it better now, Second Brother?"

He cautiously shifted, attempting to move away from the touch.

"Wait a bit more."

Ming Fei Yu pulled him back, the motion far from gentle.

It unsettled him further.

"Wait for what?"

The young man didn’t know at that moment, but soon he would understand—waiting for his limbs to grow weak, beyond the control of his mind, limp and powerless even to lift.

All thoughts in his mind were overturned by a surging wave, shattered and scattered into disarray.

That cup of tea!

He realized with a start—Ming Fei Yu was waiting for the effect of that tea to take hold!

He looked at Ming Fei Yu, who was indeed smiling at him, as if to mock—have you just realized?

After such a lengthy delay, he finally got what he had been waiting for.

The young man had almost guessed the nefarious scheme Ming Fei Yu was contemplating. Trapped with no escape, he was forced to recline on the rocking chair, glaring furiously at him. Seeing Ming Fei Yu was not intimidated, he kicked out in a threat, which Ming Fei Yu effortlessly dodged.

Anger turned his face a mottled shade of green and white as he bellowed at Ming Fei Yu, "Get lost!"

But the potency of the tea twisted his tone, softening what was meant to be a threat into something more plaintive.

A scornful smile curled the corners of Ming Fei Yu's lips.

He saw before him a little beast, its vital neck already in the grip of its captor.

Such a pitiable creature, caught in the vast shadow of an enemy, trembling with fear as it was about to be devoured, extending its claws, devoid of any threat, in a final futile struggle.

It was but a fruitless effort. Under the crush of absolute power, any resistance became a catalyst for the aggressor, utterly ludicrous.

Capable of provoking, but incapable of bearing the consequences.

The young man was thoroughly panicked, kicking out many times without hitting the mark, while Ming Fei Yu no longer wished to toy with him, instead seizing his ankle and squeezing tightly.

A cracking sound—as if bones were being dislocated—was heard.

"Hiss, that hurts, let go!"

Ming Fei Yu did not let go, his eyes chilling as he reminded him, "Be mindful of the tone you use with me now; it will decide how I treat you in a moment."

"You!"

The young man glared at him with rage, wanting but not daring to curse.

For his fate, his vulnerability, his entire perception, would soon be at the mercy of Ming Fei Yu's whims, to toy with as he pleased, deciding his life or death, his pleasure or pain.

It would be as effortless as toying with a senseless marionette.

As a familiar and scorching breath closed in, searing his eyes, he had no choice but to capitulate once again, forcing out a few insincere tears, calling out with a trembling voice, "Second Brother, please don't, I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Yes!" the youth hastled to explain, "I didn't mean to say those things to upset you; it was just impulsive of me. I realize they were hurtful and I promise never to say them again, I—I..."

"Shh."

"Stop talking; it's irritating."

Ming Fei Yu pressed his forefinger against the youth's lips to silence him, his expression focused and icy, sending a chill down the young man's spine.

The sensation was akin to that of a predator in the midst of a hunt, always silent, mysterious, and concealed, stealthily tracking its prey, who, by instinct, feels an impending oppression yet cannot spot the beast because it has already stealthily ambushed him from behind—and by the time it’s noticed—

"It's too late, alas," Ming Fei Yu sighed with pity.

Ming Fei Yu gripped his jaw, forcing him in pain to shed genuine tears.

Indeed, the real ones are always more pleasing to the eye than the false.

Had he known that brute force was such a timesaver, why bother indulging him and exercising patience? It had only added to his own troubles.

Hence, Ming Fei Yu decided to start treating him differently from now on.

"Why weren't you afraid when you bit me? Why no regret when you deceived me time and again?"

"You trample on my affections, so it's only fair I torment you until you weep."

Ming Fei Yu's chilling breath sprayed over the youth's earlobe, pressing down hard on his lip with a fingertip, causing an uncontrollable tremble throughout his body.

Then, Ming Fei Yu lifted a strand of hair that had fallen onto the youth’s forehead with his cold fingertips, tucking it behind his ear, allowing a clearer view of every expression on his face—fear, unease...

He traced the contours of that face again, his fingers like a cold blade sliding over his eyes, bridge of the nose, down to the lips, and finally resting on the smooth throat.

He was like a painter, so obsessively meticulous it bordered on pathological, intent on ensuring his creation was flawless, scrutinizing it over and over, nitpicking until it nearly drove him to madness.

Fortunately, this piece had no flaws; every part of it was irresistibly delightful to him.

He was far too pleased, inordinately fond of it.

But only if this artwork could be entirely under his control would it be truly perfect.

The young man read an obsession, a madness in his eyes.

All things before him began to blur into double images, and he started to lose grasp of reality: who drank the tea, and who was on the brink of madness.

The young man realized he might not be able to stop Ming Bandit Yu today. Recalling the small knife hidden in the room, he contemplated one final struggle.

He pleaded, "Elder brother, can we go inside? It's cold out here."

"It will not be cold in a moment."

"We could be seen out here."

"It's just us here, no need to worry."

"Elder brother, I don't want to..."

"Hmm?"

Ming Bandit Yu narrowed his eyes inscrutably, and sensing danger, the young man didn't dare to continue.

The situation was already bad; it couldn't get any worse.

As if seeing through the young man's caution, Ming Bandit Yu smiled and warned him of the consequences of continued defiance. "If you dare to lash out again, I'll make sure you can never walk again. You could live a century, a millennium, with the longevity I've given you. But from now on, wherever you go, I'll have to carry you."

"...Get lost!"

Was Ming Bandit Yu keeping him like some pet? This was a threat and a humiliation.

The young man's complexion turned from red to pale, but his feigned pitifulness and grievance could no longer move Ming Bandit Yu.

He couldn't blame anyone else; at this point, much of this was of his own making.

Ming Bandit Yu glanced at the sky, growing impatient. He leaned down and pressed a few kisses on the young man's warm, soft lips, as if testing the ripeness of a fruit.

Eventually, he revealed a playful smile.

"Today, it's your turn."