Chapter 110: Conquest Successful

Chapter 110: Successful Confession

He said he wouldn’t bring bad luck.

Because he had once destroyed Cat Island, he knew his power was a double-edged sword—wielded well, it could make the whole world bow to him. Once out of control, it could turn the world into a living hell.

Today, Meng Shu kept zoning out, and Ling Qingjue grew anxious in turn. Was it his identity that made Meng Shu uneasy?

His original form was a black cat. He’d heard that humans preferred those short-legged, light-colored kittens. Maybe Meng Shu didn’t like a cat of his color.

Uneasy, Ling Qingjue forced himself to stay calm, lifting his chin slightly. “Since you’ve worked so hard to win me over, I can reluctantly agree to be with you.”

Meng Shu seemed not to hear. He crouched down, his pitch-black eyes looking hollow, fixed on the bouquet.

The legendary flower that never withers.

He had a little over a year left. In this world, his body would never show any abnormality.

As long as he didn’t tell, Ling Qingjue would never suspect that he was dying.

Meng Shu had lived twenty-eight years. In all those years, he’d only tried to survive, but reality had dealt him the heaviest blow.

Before he died, he allowed himself a selfish wish: he wanted to monopolize Ling Qingjue for a while—not long, just one year. In the real world, that was barely half a month.

He had never been selfish in his life. Just this once.

Before he died, he would take care of everything.

Ling Qingjue stared at his back, feeling a strange sense of loneliness and desolation. He was about to speak when Meng Shu suddenly jumped up and hugged him fiercely, looking up with a beaming smile. “Cat, be with me. I’ll be good to you.”

Ling Qingjue’s hand reached out halfway.

Then pulled back.

So he had been overthinking.

Right, how could Meng Shu, so carefree and shameless, ever be sad?

He breathed a silent sigh of relief. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand on Meng Shu’s back, palm pressed against his thin back, his ears turning red and hot. “...Is that all you have to say?”

“You don’t agree?” Meng Shu’s smile was sly. His fingertips drew circles over Ling Qingjue’s heart. “But your heartbeat seems to agree.”

Ling Qingjue felt exasperated. He should have blocked Meng Shu’s hearing.

These adventurers had sharp ears—they could even hear his heartbeat.

“You already refused me once. Now I’m confessing to you for the second time.”

Though he seemed distracted and indifferent to many things, he treasured every casual word Ling Qingjue said.

Ling Qingjue was stunned. He had thought Meng Shu wouldn’t give a damn about those weird, childish demands.

Meng Shu cleared his throat theatrically, stood straight as if giving a speech. “For the first time in my life, I like someone—and it will be the last. I will do everything in my power to protect you, as your knight. Will you say yes now?”

“...”

Ling Qingjue didn’t answer.

Meng Shu wasn’t discouraged at all. “Alright. This is my third confession to you.”

He was a little shorter than Ling Qingjue, so he deliberately stood up straighter while hooking an arm around Ling Qingjue’s neck, with a coaxing air. “Lean down.”

Ling Qingjue muttered, “Why should I bend down?”

But his body obediently complied; he lowered his head. “Go ahead.”

He was curious to see what new trick this third confession would pull.

Meng Shu held his neck and suddenly planted a kiss on his forehead—damp, soft, fleeting.

Ling Qingjue froze for a second, then touched his forehead with his hand, as if the soft touch of Meng Shu’s lips still lingered.

Why… could he be kissed?

Seeing his stunned expression, Meng Shu chuckled softly. He leaned close to Ling Qingjue’s ear and whispered, “Didn’t you already agree when I confessed to you the first time?”

The moment Meng Shu said “Be with me,” a status bar appeared beside Ling Qingjue’s head.

It clearly read: “Unpursuable character: Ling Qingjue”

Because Ling Qingjue had already tacitly accepted Meng Shu’s pursuit. At that moment, his status was changed to “unpursuable,” meaning no one else could confess to him.

But Ling Qingjue hadn’t noticed.

He grew even more flustered, opening his mouth but failing to say anything.

“Your heart already accepted it, didn’t it, boyfriend?” The last two words were drawn out by Meng Shu.

So full of mischief.

Ling Qingjue was both ashamed and irritated. That damned rule didn’t let him save face, and this annoying Meng Shu had the nerve to expose him.

He got mad, but faced with Meng Shu’s cheeky grin, he was at a loss. Suddenly, he grabbed Meng Shu by the hair at the nape of his neck and lowered his head. “You knew the affinity was at eighty, and you still teased me?”

Meng Shu raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So what are you going to do to me?”

Ling Qingjue caught his lips in a furious kiss, quite abruptly, as if driven by fury. He kissed him for real this time.

No fingers in between this time, no playful teasing.

In an instant, he was enveloped by Ling Qingjue’s presence, as if a rational mask had been torn away. All pretense and innocence were thrown aside—dangerous and overwhelming.

Hot, rough breaths landed on his face. Meng Shu was the typical talker who talked big but chickened out when things got real.

Instinctively, he turned his head to avoid the ferocious kiss, but his chin was grabbed and pulled back, the kiss chasing him—not a second apart.

Everything had two sides. With eighty affinity points, he could tease Ling Qingjue, but Ling Qingjue could also use that advantage to turn the tables.

His ears filled with wet smacking sounds, Meng Shu’s brain had ceased to function. His back pressed against the wall, his body went limp, occasionally letting out fragmented sounds that were all swallowed back.

Ling Qingjue held his throat, never letting him turn his head away. The kiss was so intense, so inseparable—Meng Shu had never seen such a fierce kiss in his life.

Not even the male and female leads in romance movies seemed to kiss with such lingering passion.

Meng Shu’s mind was blank for a long time. He didn’t even have a chance to breathe. Finally, Ling Qingjue patted his cheek. “Breathe.”

Only then did he realize how long he had been holding his breath.

"I..." As soon as he spoke, his voice came out hoarse.

Meng Shu quickly cleared his throat, his hands pressing weakly on Ling Qingjue's shoulders as he shrank back. "This, I... I guess it was too intense, um..."

He couldn't even speak clearly.

His whole body felt as if on fire, blazing impossibly hot, nearly melting in that kiss.

Ling Qingjue's eyes were gloomy and vacant, with high brow bones and striking bone structure; his pale lips were stained a vivid red from where Meng Shu had bitten him.

He was born fair-skinned, so even a hint of blush was obvious.

Ling Qingjue wiped his mouth with his hand, then lowered his head and planted his hands on either side of him, his voice low and hoarse: "Isn't this what you wanted? What exactly are you dissatisfied with?"