Chapter 166 I Like Men

Chapter 166: I Like Men

“Why is it you, little sir?” Wuya also saw Cheng Ge clearly.

The already thin sari she wore was even more disheveled from her fall, outlining her curves.

A large area of honey-colored skin on her waist was exposed, and clearly she had also been affected, her condition no better than Cheng Ge’s.

Her stunningly seductive face was flushed an unnatural red, her eyes hazy and shimmering with moisture.

She stared unfocused at the ceiling, her red lips slightly parted, panting rapidly.

As if sensing Cheng Ge’s similarly chaotic and scorching breath and body heat,

she turned her head with difficulty, her misty eyes meeting Cheng Ge’s gaze across the room.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

The thick, suffocatingly sweet fragrance and the heavy, ragged gasps.

In their silent gaze, a wildfire of lust erupted that could burn everything…

Turning this ornate cage into a chasm of desire on the verge of explosion.

Cheng Ge pressed his back against the cold door, his body burning like a branding iron.

His boyish face was contorted with lustful pain, sweat rolling down his straight nose.

No way! I’ve got a fiancée! I have to hold it together! Cheng Ge thought.

A trace of mockery flickered in Princess Wuya’s dazed eyes, then was swallowed by a more intense flush.

Cheng Ge pressed his back harder against the cold door, digging his nails deep into his palm.

He stumbled, almost crawling and scrambling, into the farthest corner from Wuya.

Wuya’s condition was clearly worse; the drug had completely shattered her remaining sanity.

A muffled groan escaped her throat as she struggled to push herself up, her gaze fixed on Cheng Ge in the corner.

Like a leopardess driven by instinct, she pounced toward Cheng Ge with a primal ferocity.

Cheng Ge: “!!!”

“Don’t come near me!!!” He was so scared his soul almost fled, kicking and scrambling backward.

Wuya’s strength was astonishing; the drug had robbed her of all restraint.

She crashed heavily onto Cheng Ge, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly!

Her hot, exotic-scented breath sprayed his neck and face.

Her glazed eyes locked onto his lips, and she leaned in to kiss him without a second thought!

Cheng Ge’s mind buzzed; he felt his skull would be blown off by the horror!

Damn it!!!

With all his might, he snapped his head back, almost breaking his neck, and at the same time, he pinched Wuya’s lips shut.

“Can’t do it! Can’t do it, Princess!” Cheng Ge stammered hysterically, trying to awaken even a single shred of reason in this woman.

“You belong to the emperor! I... I am a loyal minister! A great loyal minister!

I can’t put a green hat on the emperor! That’ll cost my head! It’s a nine-clan elimination game!”

As he spoke, his fingers gripping Wuya’s lips turned white from the pressure.

But Wuya, at this moment, couldn’t hear any talk about the emperor, loyal minister, or green hat.

In her eyes, there was only this young body radiating equally scorching heat—the only antidote her instinct drove her to.

Cheng Ge pinching her lips only made her more irritable, and she let out an angry whimper.

Her free hands began frantically tearing at the already soaked and disheveled front of Cheng Ge’s robe.

“Riiip—!” The wet official robe fabric gave way with a soft rip.

Cheng Ge felt a chill on his chest, almost scared out of his mind!

He stopped caring about pinching her lips; his hands shot down like lightning bolts, grabbing his own belt!

“No! Princess! I mean it, no!” Cheng Ge’s voice carried a note of last-resort desperation.

“I... I was seriously injured some time ago! It damaged... damaged my manhood!

It’s very short! Extremely short! Maybe... maybe just a count to three!

I can’t satisfy you! How about... how about you take care of it yourself? Please! I’m begging you!”

Wuya’s actions seemed to pause for a brief heartbeat.

Those eyes, burning with lust, looked at Cheng Ge’s face, flushed with extreme shame and tension, with confusion and deeper haze.

But the confusion was only momentary.

Her red lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but finally turned into a short, nasal, almost mumbled phrase.

Her tone even rose slightly, with a chillingly accommodating note: “... I... don’t... mind...”

BAM—! Cheng Ge’s mind went completely blank! All the blood rushed to his head!

He felt he would lose control completely in the next second, dragged down by the surging drug and this seductive body into an abyss from which there was no return.

Cheng Ge gasped sharply, using the last ounce of his remaining strength.

He roared at Wuya’s seductive, dazed face inches away:

“I! I actually like men! I can’t get it up for women at all! No feeling at all! Really! If I’m lying, I’m a dog!”

The air seemed to congeal at that moment, as if time had been paused.

Wuya’s eyes, almost lost in lust, suddenly froze.

“Like men?” The unnatural flush on her face seemed to pause for a moment.

Cheng Ge: Now is the time!

Cheng Ge’s body was also wracked with pain from the drug, every second like being boiled in oil.

But he seized that fleeting moment! Survival instinct erupted with his last ounce of strength!

Completely disregarding the propriety between men and women, he yanked out his own belt and lunged at Wuya.

Wuya: “!!!”

Meanwhile, inside the main hall, the music and dance continued in peaceful splendor, with the sounds of pipes and strings filling the air as cups clinked amid laughter and chatter.

Crown Prince Zhou Zhan sat at the lower left of the imperial throne, maintaining the dignified composure expected of a crown prince.

His eyes appeared to follow the graceful dancers in the hall, but his mind wandered, occasionally glancing toward the empty seat at the very end.

Just then, a palace attendant dressed in deep blue servant’s robes slipped silently to Zhou Zhan’s side.

He bowed his head, his voice lowered so that only Zhou Zhan could hear.

“Your Highness, Lord Cheng… seems to have run into some trouble. He requests that you come for a moment.”

Zhou Zhan: “!!!”

Zhou Zhan sprang to his feet, his heart pounding.

Zhou Mingqi seemed to notice his unusual behavior, turning his head to cast a glance filled with authority.

Meeting Zhou Mingqi’s gaze, Zhou Zhan composed himself somewhat and slowly returned to his seat.

Muyu was not one to act rashly; unless absolutely necessary, he would not have sent someone to summon him in the middle of the palace banquet.

He looked up, his eyes scanning the meek attendant before him. “What is so urgent? Tell him to wait; we’ll discuss it after the banquet.”

But the attendant bowed even lower, his posture more reverent, yet his voice carried an unmistakable urgency.

“Your Highness, Lord Cheng… seems to be in a bad state. He insisted that I had to fetch you.”

As he spoke, he swiftly produced an object from his sleeve, hiding it beneath the wide fabric and discreetly passing it into Zhou Zhan’s hand.

Zhou Zhan looked down.

In the attendant’s palm lay a worn peachwood talisman—the very one he had given Cheng Ge as a so-called protective charm.

Zhou Zhan’s pupils contracted sharply! His heart felt as if squeezed by an invisible hand, blood rushing to his head!

He no longer cared about anything else! Zhou Zhan stood abruptly, the movement so forceful that he sent an empty jade cup crashing to the floor.

The crisp sound of shattering was drowned out by the music, but it drew the astonished looks of nearby officials.

He paid them no heed, walking straight to the foot of the imperial throne and making a deep bow.

“Father!” His voice carried a barely noticeable tension.

“Your son suddenly feels unwell—perhaps from the wine fumes in the hall.

I humbly ask permission to step out for a moment and rest in the side hall.”

Zhou Mingqi, who was just about to drink from his cup, paused at the words.

His deep eyes fell on Zhou Zhan’s face, which indeed appeared somewhat pale.

“Go. If you are truly unwell, return to the Eastern Palace early and rest; no need to come back.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Father! I take my leave, Father!” Zhou Zhan dared not waste a single moment, bowing once more.

He then turned and strode hastily toward the hall’s exit, his robes billowing behind him.

Zhou Yinyun, sitting beside Prince Jing, was idly tapping the table out of boredom.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Zhou Zhan’s hurried departure and felt puzzled.

“Father, I told you I don’t want to marry that marquis’s eldest daughter. My heart belongs to Caicai—”

“A little love to power the story—”