Chapter 24 Kissing from His Jaw to His Ear

Chapter 24: From Jaw to Ear—A Trail of Kisses

The two words, almost a command, delivered with an unyielding coldness, utterly mortified Yinrou. She shook her head desperately, tears trembling on her lashes, a picture of utter helplessness.

"No," Yinrou gasped, her voice thick with a desperate need, as if drenched in desire. "Fifth Young Master has always harbored wicked intentions. I couldn’t escape him. He drugged me… I’m burning up."

The trembling note at the end of her words carried a sob, a clear sign of her unbearable torment.

Chen Yanqing gripped her tightly, her flushed cheeks reflected in his eyes, thawing his icy demeanor.

Sensing the immediate threat subside, Yinrou instinctively pressed herself closer to his chest, like a parched wanderer finding an oasis. A breathy, wanton moan escaped her throat.

Chen Yanqing’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze darkening with hunger before he forcibly suppressed it.

"Stand properly," he exhaled, his breath hot against her skin as he steadied Yinrou.

The incident with his father yesterday had been sudden, and the physician they had originally summoned had gone straight to Huai'an Hall. He had assumed Song Yinrou was already fine, but now it seemed the effects of the drug had only been temporarily suppressed.

Yinrou, who had barely calmed, couldn’t bear even the slightest separation. Soon, she arched up on her toes, wrapping her arms tightly around Chen Yanqing’s neck. "Save me… I’m going to die."

Her burning cheek pressed against the hollow of his neck, her soft, tearful whispers seeping into his consciousness.

Chen Yanqing felt the last thread of restraint fraying, two opposing thoughts warring beneath his skin—one urging him to push her away with reason, the other like some primal beast, tempting him to see just how much more she would cry.

The comfort of their skin touching made Yinrou even more drunk with need. She buried her face against his neck, gasping, her parted lips brushing against his skin in hungry, searching kisses.

It was as if she were drinking him in, kissing her way up to Chen Yanqing’s jaw, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them.

Chen Yanqing didn’t move, devouring every detail of her state. With each passing second, his gaze darkened further—until his peripheral vision caught the funeral whites she wore, and the fire in his gaze banked.

He raised a hand to grip the back of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head up.

Yinrou moaned helplessly, her half-lidded eyes heavy with want, her lips slightly parted to reveal pearly white teeth and the pink flash of her tongue.

"See clearly what you’re doing," Chen Yanqing growled, his voice hoarse—unclear whether the words were meant for her or himself.

The tendons on the back of his hand stood in sharp relief as he slowly stroked the nape of her neck before withdrawing.

His wide sleeve fell, concealing the throbbing veins beneath, lying dormant in silence.

He turned to walk away, but his sleeve was caught in a weak grip, followed by two slender arms twining around him like vines.

Chen Yanqing’s jaw clenched. He took a deep breath, then grabbed the cold tea from the table, tilting her chin up to pour it down her throat.

"Cough—cough—!"

The icy water shocked her system, making her choke violently, but it also cleared some of the haze in her mind.

"Better?"

Yinrou pressed a hand to her racing heart, the realization that she had kissed Third Young Master sending the room spinning. She lowered her eyes and managed a shaky nod.

A long silence followed, the weighty stillness in the air making her uneasy. Swallowing hard, she whispered a broken plea, "Could Third Young Master… call a physician for me?"

"Someone," Chen Yanqing barked.

A shadow appeared at the door. "What are your orders, Young Master?"

"Fetch a physician."

Three simple words, devoid of inflection. Once spoken, he walked to the desk and sat down without another glance.

His composed elegance stood in stark contrast to Yinrou’s ravaged state. She suddenly wanted to cry.

Her legs still trembled uncontrollably, weak and threatening to give way. Taking shallow breaths, she stumbled to the nearest chair and sat down, never lifting her gaze. Her hands clutched at her skirt, knotting the fabric in her fists.

The heat raging inside her was scorching her from within. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but a broken whimper escaped anyway.

Yinrou’s face burned. She quickly glanced at Chen Yanqing, only to find him dragging a hand down his face, as if his patience had worn thin.

Feeling guilty, she hastily pressed the back of her hand to her lips, biting back the sounds—but some still slipped through, trembling and sweet, seeping into Chen Yanqing’s ears.

He drummed his fingers against his thigh impatiently. Why wasn’t the physician here yet?

Yinrou didn’t know how long she endured, but her body ached from the torment, her consciousness slipping further away. Her unfocused eyes remained fixed in Chen Yanqing’s direction. She was in agony.

"Knock, knock—"

The sound of rapping at the door pulled her back from the brink of collapse.

"Young Master, the physician is here."

Chen Yanqing lifted his half-lowered eyelids, the shadows beneath them swiftly concealed. Just as he was about to speak, his gaze caught Yinrou’s current state, and his lips pressed into a hard line.

The dazed young woman sagged bonelessly against the armrest of her chair, her plain robes clinging to her damp skin, hugging the delicate curve of her waist. Her legs were tightly pressed together beneath her skirt, shifting restlessly.

The daylight outside the window had dimmed without notice, throwing half of Chen Yanqing’s face into shadow. His face was split between light and dark—one side sharp and cold, the other hidden, exuding an even greater sense of danger.

The embers of his restraint glowed anew.

"Third Young Master…" Yinrou wanted to remind him that the physician had arrived, but she could barely manage three words before her breath hitched. It took her a moment to gather the strength to continue, "The physician… is here."

"I know."

Chen Yanqing stood, his eyes scanning the room briefly before he walked over to Yinrou.

His tall, broad frame loomed over her, the air around him carrying a warmth that wasn't hers. Instinctively, she wanted to lean into him, but she used every ounce of willpower to stop herself from losing control again.

Too weak to lift her gaze—and too afraid to—her eyes remained fixed at mid-level, staring directly at Chen Yanqing’s waist.

She saw him raise a hand. Whether it was her blurred vision or not, his usually elegant fingers now looked rough and fierce, tendons standing out starkly as he undid his belt, the motion tense and restrained, as if they might burst through his skin at any moment.

Yinrou’s mind went blank. Why was Third Young Master removing his belt…? She forgot to breathe, tilting her face up to look at his.

But he was too tall, and she was seated. Even craning her neck as far as it would go, she could only see his clenched jaw—still damp from where she had kissed him earlier.

The rustle of fabric sliding off filled her ears. Her breathing grew even more erratic, and then—suddenly—everything went dark as a large robe draped over her, covering her completely.

"Don’t move. Don’t make a sound."

Yinrou curled beneath the robe, biting her lip hard. In the darkness, her eyes lost their light. Third Young Master didn’t want her to cause him trouble—didn’t want anyone to know they had any connection.

Chen Yanqing opened the door. The physician entered with his medical kit, bowing slightly. "What seems to be the trouble, Third Young Master?"

"Not me." Chen Yanqing glanced to the side. "Examine her."

The physician turned, startled by the figure shrouded in robes, but quickly composed himself. Stepping forward, he said, "Please extend your hand."

A woman's hand extended from beneath the robe, startling Doctor Lin further, though he dared not ask questions. He placed his fingers on her wrist to take her pulse.

After a brief examination, his expression changed. "This young lady has been dosed with a strong aphrodisiac."

Everyone knew Third Young Master Chen was a man of principle who shunned women's company. How could there be a girl under the influence of such a drug in his room, wearing his robes, no less?

Chen Yanqing asked, "What's the antidote?"

"This…" Doctor Lin hesitated, taking Yinrou's pulse again. "This lady hasn't just taken an ordinary dose—it seems she was given an extreme amount, far beyond what an ordinary person could endure."

Chen Yanqing's brow furrowed. No wonder her condition kept fluctuating.

An extreme dose?

His eyes narrowed slightly, a layer of frost settling over his gaze.

Beneath the robe, Yinrou had completely succumbed to the drug's effects. One hand clutched tightly at the fabric imbued with Chen Yanqing's warmth, her face rubbing against the material. The embroidered patterns scraped against her overly sensitive skin, causing a prickling discomfort.

Yinrou whimpered in frustration but desperately stifled her sounds—Third Young Master had told her not to make noise.

Chen Yanqing's sharp eyes seemed to see through the robe, catching her subtle movements. His brows pressed together. "Then how do we treat her now?"

His impatient tone carried a chill. Doctor Lin straightened and replied, "With such a heavy dose, even medicine won't provide immediate relief."

"Doctor Lin, with years of medical practice, can't even cure a simple aphrodisiac?" Chen Yanqing cut him off.

The icy voice sent a shiver down Doctor Lin's spine. Having treated the Chen family for years, he had never seen Third Young Master angered before. A single sentence from him now carried an overwhelming pressure.

"The best method is intercourse."

Seeing Chen Yanqing's expression darken further, Doctor Lin hastily added, "Or… the lady could endure a few more days of suffering, paired with herbal remedies. The effects would gradually fade."

Chen Yanqing's jaw tightened. Gradually fade? Let her continue putting him through this?

The air grew heavy with tension. Sweat beading on Doctor Lin's forehead, he forced out, "Perhaps I should prepare the prescription first."

Chen Yanqing gave a silent nod, and Doctor Lin quickly excused himself, closing the door behind him.

Yinrou was on the verge of collapse. The sound of the door closing was like a release—her trembling sobs spilled out, though her voice was already weak.

Chen Yanqing strode forward and pulled the robe aside. At the same time, a pair of hands swiftly grabbed the hem of his inner garment.

Dazed and tear-streaked, the girl looked up at him from below. Tears streamed down her flushed skin, disappearing into the collar of her robes.

Chen Yanqing's throat moved. "Hold on a little longer."

Other than enduring, she could either manage on her own—he wouldn't help her, nor would he find someone else for her.

His gaze darkened abruptly as he dismissed the last thought.

The small hand at his waist clung to him cautiously, seeking comfort. Her face unconsciously nuzzled against him as she murmured obediently, "I'll endure… just a little longer."

Her pitiful yet docile demeanor stirred Chen Yanqing's compassion.

His palm cupped her face, and her soft cheek immediately leaned into it. Her damp eyes squinted as she pressed her face into the gaps between his fingers, her slightly parted lips letting out faint whimpers—like a cat in heat.

Chen Yanqing lowered his gaze, his usual clarity now a turbid abyss, dark and terrifying. His fingers traced her skin.

So pitiful… perhaps she deserved some comfort.

But instead of soothing her, his touch only made her tremble more violently. A consuming need spread through her body. She gripped his hand tightly, crying out as if unsatisfied.

"Why are you still crying?" Chen Yanqing asked, watching her.

Yinrou's thoughts were scattered beyond comprehension. She couldn't remember what she had said—only that she was suffering unbearably, like a fish gasping on shore. Third Young Master was the water that could save her, yet he refused.

"Please… please," Yinrou begged incoherently. "I really can't take it anymore, please…"

Chen Yanqing could feel his resolve crumbling under her pleas. A desire he had never known in twenty years was sprouting, like roots buried deep—once unearthed, there would be no stopping it.

"Begging me for what?"

His low, deliberate voice brushed against her ear, making her shiver. The insistent question overwhelmed her, sending heat and shame coursing through her body—especially since it was Chen Yanqing asking.

She had endured enough of his aloofness. Her fingertips brushed against the ring on his finger, and the accumulated grievances surged in her chest. "Why don't you like me?"

Chen Yanqing's gaze froze. The rampant desire within him touched a forbidden boundary, instantly receding without a trace.

"Why should I like you?"

His eyes were icy as he stared at his own hand resting against her face. Instinctive revulsion flickered at the corners—he had nearly lost his senses, just like his father.

Not only laughable, but a violation of the principles he had upheld for twenty years.

He withdrew his hand with near-brutal detachment.

Yinrou curled her fingers stubbornly, refusing to let go. Chen Yanqing's brow twitched. "Let go."

"You do like me," Yinrou shook her head, her expression heartrending. "You kept seeking me out—you must like me. You… you held me so tightly."

Chen Yanqing narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze to her fevered cheeks. A returning shadow froze his pupils inch by inch, radiating a frigid intensity. "Who are you talking about?"

The one who liked her, who held her tightly—it certainly wasn't him.

Then who was it?

Or rather, who had she mistaken him for?

Who? Yinrou's glazed eyes wavered. If anyone knew about the illusions she had seen, they would surely think her mad. She turned her face away, shaking her head.

Her chin was seized, forcing her to look up. A suffocating presence wrapped around her.

Yinrou trembled, torn between fear and craving—her overly sensitive body familiar with Chen Yanqing's scent, stimulated to want more of his touch.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, yet her body leaned into him obediently, as if powerless against his control.

Chen Yanqing felt the rage within him surge. So she had mistaken him for someone else—a lover from her hometown?

Someone who liked her, who held her tightly—was it her betrothed?

And he was merely the support she sought within the Chen family.

She had said it herself—she had no other choice, so she came to him.

Chen Yanqing's lips curled into a faint, humorless smirk.

Yinrou, still dazed, pressed her face against his palm. Her lips brushed his fingers, instinctively parting slightly as the tip of her tongue flicked out tentatively.

The damp, soft tongue licked over Chen Yanqing's fingertip, the scalding heat igniting a blaze in his gut, yet the smile on his face grew colder. Was she imagining someone else while using him for relief?

"Look carefully. Do you know who I am?"

Yinrou clutched his large hand, her fingers fumbling over the ring on his finger as she murmured, "You're the Third Young Master."

Desperate, she could only rub her feverish skin against his hand, the prominent veins on his knuckles making her tremble uncontrollably. "Only you can help me."

Her breathless plea, thick with need, twisted his anger and lust into one.

He leaned down, his broad frame looming, his dark eyes locking onto her dazed gaze, his reflection blurred in her vision.

Did she even realize whose hand she was clinging to?

Chen Yanqing’s lips curled in a sneer. "No need for this. If you can't endure, you can do it yourself."

Do it herself? Yinrou flushed with shame, suffocating from the humiliation. Had it really come to this—and still he wouldn’t touch her?

In her daze, Chen Yanqing had already straightened up.

He slowly released his grip on her face, his sleeve fell with icy finality.

The terror of Master Chen’s passing, along with her unwillingness and the effects of the medicine, drove Yinrou to lunge forward and cling to his arm. "Yinrou only wants the Third Young Master."

"Please, have mercy on me. Don't let me suffer any longer."

Chen Yanqing's arm was trapped between the heaving swell of her breasts, the softness squeezing against his firm muscles, the tendons in his arm standing rigid.

He couldn’t—wouldn’t—touch her, not when she wanted another. Yet his resolve was crumbling.

The prolonged silence filled Yinrou with despair. Choking back humiliation, she begged, "…I beg you. I don't know how."

Her shaking fingers tangled with his.

Chen Yanqing frowned as she guided his hand downward, his pupils dilating at the contact.

"Are you certain?" His voice was rough, like sandpaper dragged over her nerves.

"Certain…" Her chest tightened bitterly as she arched against him, a silent surrender. "I beg you."

Chen Yanqing's eyelids twitched violently, as if barely containing his rage.

Was even this not enough…?

Just as Yinrou despaired, his hand clamped around her waist, and she was abruptly pulled back into the chair.