Chapter 134: No Regrets

Chapter 134: No Regrets

Every breath was filled with the cold, crisp scent of Ling Qingjue. Meng Shu greedily took another deep breath, his arms tightening around Ling Qingjue, wishing he could glue himself to Ling Qingjue and never let go.

But Ling Qingjue was still angry. He gave no reaction at all, standing there like a wooden post, motionless for a long time.

Meng Shu held onto him stubbornly, his voice muffled. "It's not what you think. Don't be mad at me."

Ling Qingjue lifted his chin slightly. Just the scent of other people on Meng Shu was enough to drive him mad with jealousy, but he didn't want to show it, like he actually cared that much.

He looked down with an emotionless expression, letting out a cold, dismissive snort, his attitude unbearably harsh.

Meng Shu didn’t dare look up, so he just said, "I didn't mess around. I really didn't. I don't know how to make you believe me. I'll cut contact with them..."

Ling Qingjue's expression softened a little, but he still kept a stern face and retorted coldly, "I never said you couldn't have contact with them."

Meng Shu still didn't look up, his voice low and muffled, like he was pouting. "No more contact from now on! I won't look at anyone else! I'll just look at you, cling to you forever."

Ling Qingjue wasn't stupid. He was clearly pouting. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you really getting mad at me?"

Meng Shu's defiance faded, replaced by a humble tone. "No... I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Do you know you're covered in the scent of those people? Especially that Damn Fox—his stench is so strong it's making my eyes water."

Meng Shu still held onto him, refusing to let go, mumbling, "It won't happen again."

"That's all you can say. Can't you even try to cheer me up?" Ling Qingjue clicked his tongue impatiently, forcefully grabbing Meng Shu's arm and pushing him out of his arms.

He bent down to look Meng Shu in the eye, sounding a little confused. "Are you a block of wood? Besides saying 'it won't happen again,' what else can you say?"

Meng Shu had no answer.

Since childhood, he never knew how to comfort anyone. No one had ever comforted him. He only knew how to numbly admit he was wrong and beg for forgiveness—that way he’d get fewer beatings.

He lowered his head and said nothing.

Ling Qingjue waited for a while, but when Meng Shu stayed silent, he got even more annoyed. He frowned. "You're so frustrating."

Seeing him about to turn and leave, Meng Shu instinctively called out, "Cat..."

Ling Qingjue stopped, his cold, handsome face blank as he quietly watched him.

Meng Shu's throat tightened. "Today... can you not be mad? Let's just have a good day, okay?"

"I can't be bothered to be mad at you. Who do you think you are? What right do you have to make me mad?" Ling Qingjue raised his eyebrows even higher, his face full of disbelief. "You can be with whoever you want. If it weren't for the affection level hitting eighty, I'd never have agreed to be with you."

Meng Shu's head sank lower and lower, and his whole demeanor turned gloomy. "I told you, I didn't mess around."

He felt powerless—powerless against his illness, powerless against Ling Qingjue.

"They're just ordinary friends to me. I'm not that great—why would everyone like me? I've lived all these years, and I've never met anyone who liked me."

He spoke faster and faster, more and more urgently. "I know I'm not much of a person, but I'd never cheat on anyone. Why can't you just trust me?"

After a short silence, Ling Qingjue asked, "Are you crying?"

Meng Shu frowned. He just felt irritable. He turned his head away. "No."

Ling Qingjue pressed his lips together but still walked over to him, reaching out to touch his face. "Your eyes are a little red." (You made them red with anger.)

Meng Shu's breathing was a little short. He paused for a moment, then leaned his head back into Ling Qingjue's chest, his voice dropping. "Don't fight with me. It hurts me too."

Ling Qingjue hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on Meng Shu's back, bending slightly to hold him fully in his arms.

"I... I hate it when you get too close to others." Ling Qingjue whispered in his ear. For all his proper, cold facade, he could be so childish. "You can only have me. I gave you a choice back then, and you chose me."

Meng Shu said with grievance, "It's always been just you."

Ling Qingjue cupped his face. This man had a dignified, handsome appearance, but his eyes were unexpectedly soft and tender, completely at odds with his usual cold demeanor.

He couldn't help lowering his head and capturing Meng Shu's lips.

When their lips first touched, they were a little cool. Meng Shu trembled and parted his lips obediently.

This kiss was very gentle. Ling Qingjue probably wanted to apologize but didn’t know how to say it. He would steal a glance at Meng Shu after every kiss, like a little bird pecking away.

Meng Shu desperately wanted to kiss him. He took the initiative, cupping Ling Qingjue's face and kissing him back.

Ling Qingjue's Adam's apple rolled slightly in his pale neck, and he finally surrendered. The two tangled together, stumbling onto the sofa.

Meng Shu had a sense of this being a last hurrah. He hooked his arm around Ling Qingjue's neck, kissing his cheeks, leaving hot, wet imprints on his collarbone, moving lower inch by inch.

Ling Qingjue rarely received such treatment. He chuckled softly. "You're unusually passionate today."

He flipped over and pressed Meng Shu down, his tail winding around Meng Shu's wrist, kissing him back more forcefully.

Things were getting out of hand. Meng Shu was still human, with at least some sanity left to stop at kissing. Ling Qingjue, on the other hand, was a true beast—once aroused, he forgot everything, his mind consumed by the urge to mate.

His hand began to slide under Meng Shu's clothes. Meng Shu's waist was narrow, with perfect proportions.

The moment he touched the other's skin, he let out a sigh.

Meng Shu's mind was dazed for only a second before he realized Ling Qingjue's intention. Blushing, he grabbed Ling Qingjue's hand. "No! The system will hurt you again..."

Ling Qingjue writhed uncomfortably, instinctively wanting more. "...Why is the affection only at ninety?"

He endured the ache, pressing for more urgent kisses.

Meng Shu didn't resist, but he was afraid Ling Qingjue would start groping and actually get them both worked up.

He still held Ling Qingjue's left wrist, when he suddenly felt something hard and cold.

Half-dazed, he looked down. On Ling Qingjue's wrist was a thin silver bracelet dangling from his wrist bone.

Sticky kisses landed on his cheek. Meng Shu's eyes half-closed as his fingers traced the bracelet.

The charm on the bracelet was that glass bead. Somehow, Ling Qingjue had fixed the glass bead onto the bracelet, and it swayed slightly with his movements.

"...Cat, this... why..." Meng Shu snapped back to reality. He raised his hand to cover Ling Qingjue's mouth, stopping the kiss.

He tilted his head back, trapped beneath Ling Qingjue, looking like he was at a disadvantage.

"Why would you wear something like this?"

Ling Qingjue sat up straight, his knees apart, straddling Meng Shu's legs.

He knelt there, raising his wrist to look at it. He pressed his lips together, a little shy. "I asked Wang Cuihua next door for help. She made this bracelet for me... Hmm, actually, looking closely, it's pretty nice."

Meng Shu's eyes stung. That glass bead was still swinging, transformed from a forgotten bead into the only accessory Ling Qingjue was willing to wear.

"Her name is Kailin, not Wang Cuihua." Meng Shu hugged him again. "Why do you still not remember her name?"

Ling Qingjue said, "Is that so? No wonder she didn't look too happy when I called her name."

Meng Shu gently cupped the bracelet in his palm.

This is enough. Truly enough.

He had no regrets left.