Chapter 18 Shyness

Chapter 18: Bashful

A soft chuckle came from right by his ear as Zhang Qinghang leaned in, his lips almost brushing Cheng Ge's earlobe.

"Of course I want to go to Mount Wu with you, share the clouds and rain..." He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Cheng Ge's temple, his warm breath recklessly hitting his cheek.

Cheng Ge's fists clenched right away, nausea rising in his stomach. He instinctively leaned back to dodge it, shooting a sidelong glance at Zhang Qinghang with barely held-back restraint.

"You might not get it now, thinking we can't be together 'cause we're both guys. But I swear, once you try it and get a taste, you'll be hooked..."

He murmured, his hands automatically landing on Cheng Ge's waist, fingers rubbing the fabric, then slowly tightening.

"This waist of yours, like a treasure in my hand, so slim—perfect for playing with."

Zhang Qinghang's hands roamed that slim waist, getting bolder by the second. Now that Cheng Ge was trapped here, not even a god could save him.

Just as he was about to make his next move, a hand gently landed on his shoulder.

Zhang Qinghang flinched a little. He followed the hand to Cheng Ge and saw him smiling brightly back.

When Cheng Ge didn't smile, he had this cold vibe. But when his eyes crinkled into a smile, there was this natural, unconscious hint of delicate charm in his look.

It was like a curved bone blade that hooked your eyes and carved your heart, piercing flesh inch by inch without you even noticing.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. There are people here," Cheng Ge said, lowering his head all shy, lightly punching Zhang Qinghang's chest with his little fist.

Zhang Qinghang's heart skipped a beat at Cheng Ge's coy act. The punch pushed him back a step, and he rubbed his sore chest with a lecherous grin.

Not bothered at all, he grabbed Cheng Ge's fist and held it in his palm, giving it a squeeze. "Then I'll take you somewhere else, where no one can see us."

Cheng Ge yanked his hand away and swayed his body a little.

His face all shy, he whispered, "No, I wanna stay here. It's more exciting."

Zhang Qinghang had never seen Cheng Ge like this. Blood rushed to his head, and he was totally drunk on the sight.

The thought of doing it here made his soul shake.

"You guys wait outside. Don't let anyone in," Zhang Qinghang ordered the servants. He turned back, eyes full of urgency and desire, and pulled Cheng Ge tight into his arms again.

"Then let's hurry up and start."

With that, he leaned in to kiss Cheng Ge, his hands instinctively going to his waist, frantically tugging at the belt.

Cheng Ge looked at the big face coming at him and quickly pushed him away, putting on a coy voice. "I... I'll do it myself. Don't rush, I'm not going anywhere."

Zhang Qinghang loved this side of him and naturally went along, letting go.

Cheng Ge glanced at him, blushing, and slowly turned around, lowering his head to mess with his clothes.

Behind him, Zhang Qinghang stared without blinking at his back, rubbing his fingers together.

Cheng Ge glanced over his shoulder, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a little porcelain bottle. He shook a pill into his palm.

After a second's hesitation, he shook out another and discreetly popped them in his mouth.

A slightly bitter taste filled his mouth. Without water, Cheng Ge had to crane his neck to swallow them.

"Turn around first. I'm a little uncomfortable."

Even though Zhang Qinghang was impatient, he obediently turned around.

A faint, barely noticeable smirk curled at the corner of Cheng Ge's mouth as he quickly hid the bottle.

Just as Zhang Qinghang was full of anticipation, he suddenly heard a weird noise behind him.

Before he could turn, a hand clamped over his mouth. Another hand grabbed his neck tight, and he was slammed to the ground.

Zhang Qinghang hit the ground hard, his guts nearly shifting from the impact.

Cheng Ge grabbed a fistful of Zhang Qinghang's hair and slapped him across the face.

"Go to hell! Still playing the refined lady? Still the gentleman? Do I look like your father?

Mount Wu and clouds and rain, huh? Let me summon a thunderbolt to strike down this trash!"

Zhang Qinghang was pinned to the ground, the gravel digging painfully into his skin. A flicker of malice flashed in his eyes. "Cheng Muyu, you dare touch me! Mmph—"

Before he could finish, a sock was stuffed into his mouth. He struggled and roared, but no sound escaped.

Then Cheng Ge transformed into the grand master of the Beggar Clan, unleashing the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms as if channeling ancient power—each palm leaving its mark.

The servants waiting at the alley's entrance heard the fierce "slap, slap, slap" sounds from within, accompanied by low grunts.

Their faces flushed with heat, and they exchanged knowing glances, thinking their master was indeed exceptionally vigorous.

After what felt like an eternity, Cheng Ge emerged from the alley with his head lowered, draped in Zhang Qinghang's robe, a flush on his cheeks.

Seeing him like this, the servants quickly averted their eyes and stepped aside.

Cheng Ge tightened the robe and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Watching his retreating figure, the servants slowly withdrew their gazes, wearing smiles that only men would understand.

Then they turned and entered the alley, expecting a generous reward from their master for his successful conquest.

But when they saw the scene inside, they were struck as if by lightning.

Zhang Qinghang lay bound hand and foot with his own belt, stripped completely bare—not even his undergarments left.

A sock was stuffed in his mouth, and he was curled up like a dead dog in the corner. His face was swollen like a pig's head, utterly unrecognizable.