Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Luo Qianyu, confused, hesitated as he raised his hand, tilting the cup slightly before taking a slow sip of the half-full osmanthus wine.

What is this guy talking about?

He has the time it takes to burn an incense stick to run? Is it still not too late to flee now?

Is this beauty crazy?

Otherwise, why keep saying such random stuff?

And since he walked in, the guy's been staring right at him. He couldn't read the look deep in those eyes, just felt like the guy didn't spare a glance for anyone else, as if in this whole world, only he existed, only he was worth looking at.

The rims of his eyes seemed red, yet deep and burning, not blinking, as if he wanted to swallow him whole.

…

The key point was—why the hell would he need to run?

Luo Qianyu was pretty confident in his martial arts now. The Young Marquis must have been trained by a master; even if he ran into a tough enemy now, even if he couldn't take them down in one move, he could at least get away easily.

Luo Qianyu thought to himself, his gaze sliding to the sword at the guy's waist. He was momentarily stunned. That was a truly top-notch sword, jade-colored with a blue tint, still sheathed, but the blade must be incredibly sharp—just looking at it sent chills down your spine.

Maybe it was because the black-clad beauty's words were too absurd; no one would lose their cool over that kind of talk and flee in disgrace like those other customers.

But somehow, an inexplicable sense of urgency rose in his heart.

By now, everyone around him had cleared out. The inn was empty, with only a few lanterns left. Even the little fat bird that had perched on his shoulder had flown off at some point.

Before he knew it, it was just the two of them.

Luo Qianyu's Adam's apple bobbed as he realized something.

What would happen after one incense stick's time?

Worst case scenario,

Would he be cut down by a blade?

Luo Qianyu set down his cup, studying the uninvited guest's expression, trying to figure out if he was an enemy. Hesitantly, he spoke: "What did you just eat?"

The black-clad beauty looked at him. Though he couldn't see his expression, Luo Qianyu vaguely felt the guy smiled—maybe just a slight curl of the lips, maybe not, maybe it was his imagination. But the next second, he heard the guy speak:

"Nothing much, just an aphrodisiac."

…

…

An aphrodisiac.

Luo Qianyu was completely stunned. It took him several seconds to process what the guy had said and what it meant, and for a moment, he couldn't speak, as if he had fallen into an abyss, a chill spreading through his body.

The young man's pupils trembled, and a sudden, overwhelming sense of panic and helplessness surged from deep within, tightening his chest and leaving him lost and confused.

Did he mishear, or was this guy joking?

Why would he eat something like that right in front of him?

Luo Qianyu froze, his Adam's apple moving, but instinct made him stand up abruptly.

The bench scraped against the floor with a harsh screech.

Luo Qianyu looked at the black-clad beauty's expression, stepped back, and found the guy hadn't moved. The unease in his heart swelled.

So he paused, then turned and ran.

…

No, he couldn't stay here. Whatever would happen after one incense stick's time, the prickling sense of crisis was undeniable. Staying felt wrong.

Better to trust his instincts. Discretion was the better part of valor. He could return to the Eastern Palace to stay; the luggage left at the inn was nothing important. He could send Gui Xi to retrieve it later!

Run first, talk later.

Luo Qianyu dashed out of the inn's gate, the night wind carrying the smoky aroma of the street market hitting his face.

He merged into the crowd almost instantly. The sweet scent of sugar paintings, the drumming of shadow puppetry, and the vendors' cries all surged around him—things that would normally make him linger now only served as obstacles he couldn't stop for.

The young man wove through the crowd, glancing toward the imperial city in the distance, brushing past laughing passersby without looking back.

Having often sneaked out to play in West Zhao, he knew the way well. He crossed six streets, the alleys flickering in and out of light from the market lanterns, turned through three or four corners, and still the bustle remained.

Luo Qianyu kept glancing back, confirming he had put enough distance between them. When he looked far into the distance, the inn had long since disappeared into the maze of streets and alleys, not even a shadow visible. The beauty hadn't followed.

He raised his brow, his pace gradually slowing. The panic faded with each breath, and after a long hesitation, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

…

What one incense stick's time?

He must have been bluffing.

As he entered another market, the Third Prince muttered to himself. At the alley's entrance, a copper pot for blowing sugar figures billowed white steam, the caramel scent making him stop.

Unable to resist, he approached. The vendor smiled and asked if he wanted a man or a woman figure.

Luo Qianyu couldn't help but think of that fluffy little fat bird that had perched on his shoulder—it was kind of cute. "Blow me a fat bird."

The vendor: "…?"

Soon, a round, sugar bird was handed to him.

Luo Qianyu took the fat bird and bit off its head. As the sweetness spread, his tense nerves finally fully relaxed.

He leaned against a tree, chewing on the candy, when he looked up and spotted a familiar blue figure standing under the bright lanterns of the opposite street, looking around as if searching for someone.

…

Was that the Crown Prince?

Luo Qianyu's heart leaped with joy.

Great, it must mean Luo Shifu had lost, and Xiao Che had come out to find him!

"Elder Brother Crown Prince… mmph!"

The shout had barely left his lips when, in the next second, someone clamped a hand over his mouth.

Before he could struggle, his body went light, and he was whisked deeper into the shadows.

The hand over his mouth was kinda hot.

Across the street, Ciao Che suddenly whipped his head around, like he sensed something, and looked over. A night breeze swept through, but under the tree, it was empty—not a soul.

Just the little sugar bird lay on the ground.

...

Maybe he misheard.

.

.

In a flash, he was back in that West Zhao inn.

Luo Qianyu was stunned, still trying to process what just happened. Instinctively, he jerked back. The black-clad beauty stood frozen in place, like he'd never moved, like the guy had never left.

The only difference now was that the inn's two wooden doors had clicked shut.

Luo Qianyu was totally freaking out now.

He finally got how serious this was. This guy's Lightness Skill was insane. It felt like the incense stick was almost gone—he'd lost all track of time. But in this situation, not only hadn't he gotten far, he hadn't even left this inn!

Luo Qianyu's throat bobbed. He ran to shove the door, but it wouldn't budge. Looking down, he saw the lock's crossbar was wedged tight.

His heart dropped like a stone.

Luo Qianyu's heart hammered. Running was clearly out of the question; he had to go head-to-head with this guy.

The young man's wrist flicked, and the gold folding fan from his sleeve was now in his hand. He gave it a little toss, and before it could even open, it whipped toward the guy's neck with a sharp gust.

The black-clad beauty didn't draw his sword. Instead, his eyes locked onto the gold folding fan, staring hard, like he was intimidated by the weapon.

But the guy just shifted a little to dodge, and the strike missed.

Luo Qianyu quickly snapped the fan shut and switched tactics, using it like a short rod and swinging it at the guy's waist.

Figures blurred back and forth in the hall. His boot tips skimmed the table as he struck downward, but the black-clad beauty always sidestepped at the last second.

From the hall to the dining area, Luo Qianyu shut the fan like a ruler and jabbed straight at Wen Yu's chest acupoint. The black-clad beauty just turned a bit, his sleeve brushing past, and a soft, springy force deflected the fierce blow.

Their robes brushed, and Luo Qianyu could even catch a cold, faint scent. His heart skipped, and he frowned, his attacks getting more frantic.

Luo Qianyu twisted his waist, the fan spinning half a turn in his hand, abruptly changing course to strike at the guy's ribs.

This move was fast and fierce. Wen Yu didn't dodge; instead, he made a subtle shift, not only dodging the attack but stepping in closer.

Luo Qianyu, now pissed and embarrassed, switched between using the fan as a short rod for sweeping and striking, and opening it like a blade for slashing and blocking.

But Wen Yu just dropped his shoulder a bit, his elbow smoothly knocking into Luo Qianyu's forearm. His moves were fluid like drifting clouds, and with a gentle pull and deflection, he not only neutralized the attack but caused Luo Qianyu's force to suddenly vanish. The young man stumbled forward, nearly falling into the other's embrace.

Damn it! he cursed inwardly, forcing himself to twist and retreat sharply to regain his balance.

Luo Qianyu hastily leaped up, using a pillar to push off, and somersaulted toward the stairs.

Wen Yu followed like a shadow.

On the narrow staircase, the black-clad beauty either flicked his fingers to deflect the closed fan ribs or used his palm to block and redirect the swinging fan surface. Every time Luo Qianyu struck with full force, it felt like hitting the softest silk, only to be pulled off balance, drawing them closer and closer.

...

What's going on?

Luo Qianyu was horrified. Since transmigrating into this book, he knew his martial arts were formidable, likely taught by a peerless master. He considered himself not quite top-tier, but more than enough within this story.

But this person before him—what kind of grandmaster was he?

And why could this man predict all his moves and counter them perfectly!?

The two spun up to the second floor.

Luo Qianyu closed his fan and jabbed sharply at the man's shoulder acupoint. Seeing him sidestep, he immediately changed tactics and slapped toward his chest.

Wen Yu didn't dodge. Just as Luo Qianyu's palm was about to touch his clothes, he pulled back slightly, twisted his wrist, and precisely caught Luo Qianyu's wrist, pulling it aside.

Luo Qianyu couldn't stop his momentum. With a crash, he slammed into the carved window frame of a nearby room, half his body leaning out. The cool wind hit his face, and his heart skipped a beat.

Before he could react, his waist was grabbed, and the man pulled him back into the corridor. His back hit the wooden railing of the second floor with a creak.

The two were now extremely close. Luo Qianyu was half-trapped between Wen Yu and the railing, his breath ragged, his chest heaving.

As he looked up, he met those eyes, so close they were almost touching.

Wen Yu gazed at his eyes, bright with shock and shame, and instead tightened his grip on Luo Qianyu's waist, erasing the last sliver of space between them.

The beauty leaned down, and Luo Qianyu felt a slightly hot breath almost brush against him, making his heart race.

"You—" Luo Qianyu started to speak, but a sudden sense of danger surged within him. Yet before he could figure out what that danger was, or push the man away, his lips were covered by a warm touch.

In that instant, Luo Qianyu's mind went blank, as if a storm had swept through.

...

Kissed!!

He had kissed a man!!

He didn't want to live anymore!!

It wasn't a brief touch, but something fierce and burning, as if long-suppressed and urgently needing confirmation.

The moment their lips met, his breath was stolen, yet his senses became incredibly sharp.

He could feel a familiar yet strange fragrance pressing into his nostrils. His teeth were breached in an instant, and even turning his head to avoid it was impossible.

Trapped by the Mysterious Guest's lips and tongue, Luo Qianyu's eyelids trembled. He let out a muffled sound, his eyes growing hot and moist. He couldn't breathe, and he punched the beauty's shoulder, but it was useless—the man completely ignored him.

Soon, Luo Qianyu was gasping for air, forced to part his lips to draw breath, only to let the other take advantage, invading and conquering, kissing him until his whole body trembled.

In twenty years of life, he had barely held a girl's hand a few times, let alone kissed. That was supposed to be saved for his future wife. But now, in a dim inn, he was being thoroughly kissed by a stranger!

Luo Qianyu's eyes were moist at the corners, a glistening sheen on his slightly parted lips.

But the next moment, when he felt something pressing against him, the young man's body stiffened, and he nearly jumped in shock.

He pulled his lips away, a glistening strand of saliva stretching between them before breaking.

Luo Qianyu’s heart skipped a beat, and he was utterly panicked. Now, the kiss was the last thing on his mind, replaced by a greater sense of crisis. In his haste, he suddenly recalled how Liu Cixue had once pretended to be his wife. Thinking fast, he gritted his teeth and stammered, “Dude, wait… please wait!”

He shouted, “I’ve got a wife and kids! What are you doing?!”

…

The beauty paused in his movements.

Seeing that the other had indeed reacted, Luo Qianyu thought it was working. As everyone knew, gay guys usually can’t bring themselves to mess with straight guys.

Seizing the moment, Luo Qianyu quickly raised his folding fan to shield himself and grabbed his belt. His lips were moist, and there were red marks on his neck, making him look rather disheveled:

“Beauty, to be honest with you, I’m not into guys!”