Chapter 56

Chapter 56

When the Young Marquis withdrew his gaze, he saw Wen Yu raising a hand, seemingly touching the black knot he had just tied at the back of his head.

The Mysterious Guest's heart suddenly tightened, and he asked nervously, "...What are you doing?"

Wen Yu didn't respond. His fingers, with their distinct knuckles, wrapped around the black cloth strip, grasped it, and gave it a firm tug outward, giving a brief reply: "Tightening it."

"..."

So it was a false alarm.

Wen Yu wasn't planning to break the agreement and remove the blindfold on his own; instead, he was making sure it was on properly... even tightening it right in front of him?

The Young Marquis was inwardly astonished, momentarily falling silent.

Wen Yu truly was a gentleman; even details like this put him at ease.

In truth, the three conditions the Young Marquis had proposed were really over the top: not only blindfolding him, but also making someone who usually abstained from alcohol get completely drunk, with restrictions on both time and place. If it were anyone else, with the person they wished to see right before them yet remaining unrecognizable, they'd at least try to sneak a peek.

However, perhaps it was precisely because he genuinely believed in Wen Yu's character deep down that he felt confident enough to arrange this meeting.

The Mysterious Guest pondered for a moment, his gaze shifting away from the black cloth on Wen Yu's face. His cool voice carried a hint of hesitation: "Wen Yu, having you blindfolded was my idea, and getting you drunk was also mine. After tonight, don't give the Young Marquis a hard time."

Using his own alias to speak for himself—no problem there.

This would save him from Wen Yu constantly bullying him, repeatedly overstepping boundaries, and not knowing his place.

Unexpectedly, Wen Yu responded with just two words again: "Won't do."

"...?"

What did that mean? Did he not intend to let his Young Marquis off?

The Mysterious Guest quietly clenched his fingers into a fist, fell silent for a moment, and then said, "If you won't agree, then return the hair ribbon I lost to me. That would also settle the score between us."

Speaking of which, his hair ribbon had gone missing a few days ago.

He had searched everywhere without success, until one morning during his exercises, he caught a glimpse of a hint of red peeking from Wen Yu's sleeve cuff, only for it to be concealed again by the hanging fabric.

He suspected Wen Yu had taken it back, but he had no proof and couldn't very well grab someone's sleeve to confront them. If the Young Marquis appeared too eager and concerned about that hair ribbon, it might arouse Wen Yu's suspicion, linking him to the Mysterious Guest.

After all, the likelihood of Wen Yu doing such a thing was extremely slim. Perhaps it wasn't his hair ribbon at all, and he was just being suspicious, projecting his own pettiness onto a gentleman... But now was the perfect opportunity to verify whether his suspicions were correct.

Yet, the next moment, right in front of him, Wen Yu lifted his left sleeve with a flick of his finger, revealing the red hair ribbon tightly wrapped around his wrist. "This?"

The Young Marquis was dumbfounded.

It really was him!

"Hmm, so you did pick it up." The Mysterious Guest lowered his gaze, feigning ignorance, and said calmly, "I left it on the rooftop that night. Since you found it, please return—"

Before he could finish, Wen Yu bowed his head slightly, his expression momentarily blurred by drunkenness, yet his voice remained exceptionally clear, uttering just two words again: "Mine."

"..." The Mysterious Guest's eyelashes trembled slightly.

To seize his personal belonging so openly and with such conviction?

He was a completely different person before and after getting drunk. The line between a gentleman and a robber was just a thought apart, seemingly separated only by a pot of wine. Even the Mysterious Guest looked astonished, his throat as if clogged with cotton wool, unable to speak for a good while.

The Mysterious Guest frowned slightly, his voice turning cold. "Do you just want to take everything that's mine? What about the folding fan? You always use it to track my movements. If I give you the fan too, would you take it?"

As he spoke, he took the folding fan in his hand, turned it around, and tossed it toward Wen Yu.

The blindfolded beauty, hearing only the sound, raised his hand and caught the fan's handle.

Unexpectedly, Wen Yu didn't speak this time. Instead, he opened the fan with a crisp rustle. Blindfolded as he was, he couldn't clearly see the eight faint characters already on the fan's surface.

But the next moment, Wen Yu brought the elegant fan close to the tip of his nose, covering half his face, and gently moved it.

The Young Marquis was slightly taken aback. In his daze, he suddenly realized what the other was doing.

He seemed... to be sniffing the scent on it.

The Mysterious Guest's heart jolted. He abruptly stood up, snatched the fan back, suppressed his racing heartbeat, and said in a low voice, "I... I've changed my mind. Since you already have my hair ribbon, you can't have your eye on the fan as well."

Wen Yu let him take it without a word.

With Wen Yu's eyes covered, neither could see the other's expression. One's identity was known, the other's was hidden, yet the current situation seemed almost reversed.

Inside the elegant room, a silence fell over the room for a moment.

Despite the stalemate, the atmosphere felt charged.

"Wen Yu, every word I just said stands. I'm not joking." The Mysterious Guest broke the silence first, his voice unusually calm and gentle, as if negotiating or simply informing. "Now that we've been open with each other, you can no longer force me or put yourself in danger to lure me out."

"If you dare do that again... not only will I not appear, but I will also resent you, blame you—resent you for lacking self-awareness, blame you for using the pretext of repaying a favor to pester me incessantly. By then, we won't even be able to remain friends."

These words were quite ruthless, not only leaving no room for sentiment but also cutting to the heart, genuinely hurtful. He even maliciously speculated about Wen Yu's true motives for wanting to find the Mysterious Guest, twisting the gentleman's "persistence" into a lack of self-awareness and slandering his simple "gratitude" as having ulterior motives toward the Mysterious Guest.

The Young Marquis sympathetically glanced at the blindfolded Wen Yu, secretly pitying the great beauty. But to deal with Wen Yu, one had to use unexpected tactics. He could only resort to extreme measures and play the villain this once.

"I know you heard everything clearly. Even if you're drunk, you might forget most of this tomorrow, but I need your promise. You are a man who values promises above all; even when drunk, you will keep them."

The Young Marquis's goal was to help Wen Yu resolve his inner conflict. Now that they had met, that goal was achieved. He said softly:

"Wen Yu, let us part ways here, never to meet again in the jianghu. Is that acceptable?"

Wen Yu said in a low voice, "Not acceptable."

Young Marquis: "..."

This block of ice, this impervious piece of wood—he agrees to nothing!

Luo Qianyu felt a surge of frustration. His knuckles brushed against the wine cup, and just as he was about to pick it up for a sip, he remembered it was empty—all the wine had been drunk by Wen Yu.

He was stunned for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, before setting the cup down heavily again.

"Those who walk different paths do not make plans together." The Mysterious Guest pursed his lips. Though his heart was still flustered, he showed no sign of it on his face. It was better to make an early escape. "Since there is nothing more to say, I shall take my leave first."

But Wen Yu suddenly spoke, "Wait."

The figure across from him paused but did not sit back down.

"Today is the auspicious Qixi Festival." The blindfolded Wen Yu tilted his head slightly, pressed his lips together, and said in a low voice, "I have yet to receive a sachet from the one I hold dear. To remedy this regret, could my benefactor find one to give me?"

He continued, "If I receive a sachet, I will abide by our agreement in the future and cease my pestering."

"..." Surprise flickered in the Young Marquis's eyes.

This was the longest sentence Wen Yu had spoken tonight after getting drunk.

But...

Wen Yu was actually lying!

Forget about Wen Yu's past as a top scholar—just tonight alone, how many young ladies had offered him sachets? Not only had Wen Yu refused them all, but he had even found it so unbearable to watch that he took off his own hat for Guard Wen to use as a shield.

And now he was telling the Mysterious Guest he had never received one??

They say guards take after their masters, and it was true—he had really learned from the Young Marquis, lying so effortlessly without even blushing or feeling flustered.

Luo Qianyu mulled it over for a moment, still feeling that since things had come to this, there wasn't much else he could do. Sachets, however, were easy enough to procure. If it could buy him freedom from future disturbances and entanglements, he could fulfill Wen Yu's wish.

The problem was, they were at Fan Tower—where could he find a sachet?

Were there any for sale nearby?

Would Wen Yu have already passed out drunk by the time he returned, rendering all this hard-won conversation meaningless?

Just as Luo Qianyu was contemplating this, his gaze suddenly shifted to the nearby soft couch.

Earlier, he had received quite a few sachets, but since he couldn't carry them all, he had left them on the couch upon entering the room.

Why not... just grab a random sachet gifted by a young lady to muddle through for now, pacify this drunkard, and wait until Wen Yu sobered up tomorrow? He would either forget about it or feel too ashamed to keep the sachet. This way, he could resolve the current predicament without disrespecting the young lady's heartfelt gesture.

"Alright, wait here."

The Young Marquis stood up and walked over to the soft couch. The private room was lit only by two gentle candles, casting his figure in shifting light and shadow, flickering faintly.

Luo Qianyu casually picked one that looked delicate and pink. But just as he took it in his hand, a figure materialized behind him.

He was about to speak when his wrist was suddenly grasped.

The Young Marquis tensed, realizing it was Wen Yu.

...

Had he been discovered?

Was it for using a sachet fraudulently, or for not being the Mysterious Guest?

But Wen Yu's eyes were covered—he didn't seem to have noticed. Could he have approached based on sound alone?

...What was he planning to do?

The young man was caught off guard as he was pushed sideways, his back landing heavily on the soft bedding of the couch. He instinctively tightened his grip on the sachet, his heart suddenly racing, his breath catching.

Before he could react, Wen Yu had already leaned down and sealed his lips.

The warm pressure of lips descended; even the faint gasps of surprise were completely stifled, sealed tight.

...

Pinned against the soft couch, beneath him were the sachets gifted by the young ladies. Apart from Wen Yu's scent, the unfamiliar fragrance of the sachets mingled around him. Luo Qianyu's mind went blank, his breathing growing erratic.

The protagonist shou's lips were soft, but the kiss was forceful, almost overwhelming.

His cheeks burned, the heat spreading to the tips of his ears. His thoughts seemed to shatter, and in that moment, he completely forgot to react or move.

Seizing the opportunity, Wen Yu pinched his jaw, forcing his lips apart.

"...Mmm... ah..."

Luo Qianyu couldn't close his mouth. As their lips pressed together, a glistening trail of moisture slid from the corner of his lips.

Luo Qianyu's eyes reddened at the corners. The air was completely stolen away, his breathing grew ragged. He feared he might truly suffocate from this kiss. What was going on? Did Wen Yu have this habit when drunk in the original story?

Wen Yu's kiss was utterly at odds with his usual self—that person was typically aloof, composed, even ascetic.

Yet his kiss was almost like a conquest, unrestrained and overwhelming.

Luo Qianyu truly couldn't breathe anymore. A sob escaped him as he desperately pounded the man's chest, kicking and struggling. Finally released, he gasped for breath, disheveled, only to be kissed again.

It was as if Wen Yu could always track his breath. Even if he turned his face away, a silvery thread of saliva breaking from their lips as he panted softly, the man would chase after him again, sealing his lips with another kiss.

Whenever he couldn't hold on any longer, the other would mercifully release him, but before he could fully regain his breath, he would be silenced again, conquered anew.

"..."

By the end, the kiss had reduced him to utter surrender. In his struggle, his collar had loosened, revealing a snow-white shoulder.

Since transmigrating into the book, he had rarely been in such a disheveled state. He even felt a flicker of relief that Wen Yu's eyes were covered, unable to see his appearance.

So much so that when the other finally stopped moving, he didn't even catch what was said.

"Here." Wen Yu slowly uttered these two words, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.

"...What?"

When something warm and wet touched his shoulder, Luo Qianyu's body stiffened. Realizing what it was, he froze for several seconds, his neck flushing completely red.

...

Wen Yu was licking his wound.

The young man's nape tensed abruptly, his fingers trembling. Summoning strength from somewhere, he suddenly kicked out, pushing the man away with all his might.

He scrambled off the soft couch in panic, but his legs gave way. Staggering a few steps, he fell to the floor with a thud. He tried to get up once but failed.

Struggling to rise again, he still couldn't stand.

Luo Qianyu: "?"

Luo Qianyu: "??"

Why couldn't he stand up?

He hadn't touched a drop of that wine—Wen Yu had drunk it all. From start to finish, he hadn't had any alcohol. So why was he so weak?

His heart pounded violently as a sudden thought flashed through his mind—

Could it be...

He was weak in the knees from being kissed?

The Young Marquis's expression changed abruptly. Disbelieving, he tried to push himself up, gritting his teeth as his earlobes flushed crimson, the redness spreading all the way to the back of his neck.

To be kissed weak in the knees by the protagonist shou—how utterly humiliating! What kind of spineless stock gong was this? And Wen Yu—supposedly the elegant gentleman everyone admired—was clearly a newly transformed nine-tailed fox, a lustful demon intent on seducing scholars into bed!

The Young Marquis dared not look back, gripping the bed frame tightly with one hand to steady himself, then hastily fled through the door in a complete panic.

Once outside the private room, the Fan Tower was brightly lit and bustling with people, as if he'd entered another world.

Luo Qianyu leaned against the railing, droplets from his chin dripping down his neck. He wiped them away, his steps unsteady, his mind still reeling with lingering panic and shame.

"Young master! Esteemed guest... what's wrong with you?"

A passing server quickly stopped, noticing the young master's flushed face, forehead, even his neck and nape—clearly a sign of catching a chill!

The waiter hurried forward to support him, crying out in alarm, "Esteemed guest, your... your lips are swollen! And your steps are unsteady... Are you feeling unwell? Let me help you back to your room. Should we call a physician for you?"

Back to the room?

To be delivered right back into Wen Yu's clutches?!

"...It's nothing."

Luo Qianyu, his secret laid bare, shook off the helping hand and said coldly, embarrassed, "Let go."

The waiter, confused, complied, "Yes."

The Young Marquis swept past him and headed downstairs, only to realize that going downstairs was harder than walking on flat ground. After just two turns, he was jostled by a few guests passing by.

The young noble stumbled, lost his balance, and missed a step on the staircase. Just as he was about to tumble down, he fell right into someone's embrace. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the person's neck, breaking out in a cold sweat.

Saved.

A narrow escape.

If he had fallen flat on his face here, word would have spread, making him the laughingstock of the capital. Gossipmongers would no doubt twist it into something like: "The Young Marquis of the Luo Manor, after being kissed by a beauty, tumbled down the stairs, his fate unknown."

Forget the Fan Tower—he wouldn't have the face to step outside ever again.

"..."

Only then did the Young Marquis notice the savior he had thrown himself into, whose neck he was still clinging to.

The man was much taller than him, holding him firmly, his waist tightly encircled. The man lowered his gaze slightly, first noticing the crimson lips and, beneath the loosened collar, faint, glistening marks.

Luo Qianyu sensed the impropriety and pulled away, about to offer thanks when his lashes fluttered, meeting the other's gaze.

...

It was Chancellor Lin.