Chapter 15: What Does It Mean When a Bro Licks My Hand?

Chapter 15: Bro, Why Are You Licking My Hand?

Sometimes Li Wuya felt like kneeling and begging Qin Shu to stop giving.

Most of what Qin Shu gave, Li Wuya could never repay in equal measure: the title of General wasn't worth much, power was a cesspool of corruption, military merits were built on blood, his sincerity was laced with selfishness, and a single life was utterly insignificant.

When Li Wuya counted what he truly had, it was only luck.

On the border battlefield, someone was dying every moment. Qin Shu had saved many lives, but only he was fortunate enough to truly grasp that hand.

A drop of blood bought a gem, a failed battle traded for a cold star—the price was too small, and the anxiety gnawed at Li Wuya for five whole years.

So stop giving, alright?

The brighter his sincerity, the more it exposed Li Wuya's filth; the more beautiful the flowers, the more they scared Li Wuya.

Qin Shu accepted his flowers, Qin Shu walked into his carefully laid trap, Qin Shu crushed all his lies, traps, and schemes.

Qin Shu was so sincere—he gave Li Wuya that silver-white bouquet.

Qin Shu—

Qin Shu's blood dripped in front of him.

He couldn't say a word, feeling that featherlight happiness in his unruly heart, then gently smearing the beautiful blood across the silver-white petals.

“It’s very beautiful,” he heard his own vocal cords say.

In his already blurry vision, only Qin Shu’s right hand remained—crimson winding and swaying like flower branches, glistening and quivering like pearls.

…A sudden surge of hunger, and the sound of Qin Shu's heartbeat.

Worthless, don't lose control here; Qin Shu is already injured.

Your identity—out there—how much more trouble do you want to cause him?

Cold, stars…

Red, pearls?

“—…treat the wound?”

Qin Shu took his hand and followed the indistinct, blurry crowd.

Where did they go?

A narrow space, a familiar scent enveloping him.

Red was spread out in front of him.

The feel of gauze, the smell of antiseptic.

First, he set the flowers aside. Then he bent down and lowered his head.

Li Wuya finally got what he wanted and licked Qin Shu's palm.

-

Inside the mall, in a cramped public mental health booth.

Qin Shu was about to lose it.

His palm felt wet and numb; the pain was negligible, but the softness and warmth made him extremely awkward.

Instinct made him fidget; he desperately wanted to shake it off and throw the guy with a shoulder throw, but the one licking his hand was Li Wuya of all people!

Li Wuya must have lost it; Qin Shu was clear on that answer. Just now, Li Wuya had gone through the surging crowd and might have witnessed him fighting, seen blood—Li Wuya's combat PTSD was really bad…

But that didn't mean Li Wuya had to lick his hand!

He had opened his hand to treat the wound first, definitely not, absolutely not, not like this at all…

There had never been such a situation.

Soft, tepid, the rough surface of his tongue.

Again and again, Li Wuya held his right hand with both hands, lashes lowered, silent.

No, it seemed there was sound.

The sound of saliva, the sound of his mouth—slow, licking, swallowing.

In the dim, hazy room, everything was especially clear—feeling the length of the wound, feeling the warmth, feeling…

Qin Shu yanked his hand back!

Li Wuya looked up, disheveled bangs slightly covering his eyes, a silent, docile expression, a trail of blood trickling down, soaking into his collar.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

…

Qin Shu’s brain short-circuited.

But he couldn't just abandon his brother. Stiffly, he pressed his other clean hand against Li Wuya's forehead.

The cold, sharp mental energy touched the black sea, and then clarity flooded in.

-

After that, there was a long silence.

Li Wuya, holding the flowers, followed Qin Shu like a shadow.

Qin Shu bandaged his own wound later; he wasn't good at it—the gauze was crooked and messy, basically just barely holding together.

The two entered a small building, and the owner greeted them with a smile: “Colonel, you've arrived!”

They sat in a private room; outside the window was a winding stream, and inside the decor was tasteful.

Qin Shu said solemnly, “Wuya, are you anemic?”

Li Wuya looked down. “Maybe.”

Silence again.

“Wuya, you—”

“A Shu, I—”

They both said at the same time: “You go first.”

Then they both fell silent again.

Li Wuya pursed his lips. "I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Qin Shu said.

"Losing it at such an important moment—when you gave me flowers."

Li Wuya's solemn stubborness always left Qin Shu feeling helpless. "Then should I apologize too?"

Li Wuya frowned. "There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"How can you say that? Insisting on playing the hero before meeting you, getting all dusty, eating so late, and making you lose control."

Li Wuya furrowed his brows. "How could it possibly be your fault? This..."

Qin Shu interrupted him. "So you're not to blame either."

"No, I—"

"Are you doubting my judgment?"

Li Wuya clamped his mouth shut.

Qin Shu pointed at the flowers. "Are they pretty?"

"They're the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen."

"The flower in the middle is my choice, it's called an anemone. I think it really suits you. The lady who owns the shop said you're a great person."

"..."

"If you're thinking 'I'm not that good' right now, then please stop."

"..."

"If you're about to say 'sorry,' then just keep your mouth shut."

"..."

Qin Shu took out two small cloth pouches from his pocket and tossed him the silver one. "The flower shop owner gave me two scented pouches when I bought the flowers. One for each of us."

"Alright," said Li Wuya.

Qin Shu finally cracked a smile.

"Alright, if you're so set on apologizing, you should apologize for not teaching me how to properly bandage a wound."

"For the past five years, you've done it all for me. Today, you'll have to help me with this too."

He held out his hand. Long fingers, prominent knuckles, blue veins beneath pale skin, the bandage wrapped crookedly.

Li Wuya kept savoring the taste of blood in his mind. Wonderful, hallucinatory, dizzying—pleasure?

When he lost control, his senses were magnified countless times. The metallic, cold, alluring red.

Too bad that Qin Shu rarely gets injured now... When can he taste it again?

Not now.

-

The meal was thoroughly satisfying. True to a battle buddy's enthusiastic recommendation, Qin Shu gave the restaurant a good review on the platform.

Li Wuya's voice came from behind. "How much did it cost?"

"It's fine."

"If you're short on money, come to me."

"..." Qin Shu grumbled, "I've never even finished spending the money you gave me."

"Mm."

Li Wuya quickened his pace to walk alongside him, still holding the bouquet of flowers like a treasure in his arms.

Qin Shu looked through the transfer records Li Wuya had sent him, then suddenly elbowed him. "You've transferred me so much money in just two months."

Li Wuya glanced at the screen—less than his three-day income. "You're easy to support."

"My family didn't spend this much raising me."

"I can be your stand-in father or brother."

"Go to hell." Qin Shu pausd. "I'm just saying, you give me so much money, but I've never given you anything. Now it's just a bouquet, and you're this surprized?"

Li Wuya seemed thoughtful. "Can money also be considered a contribution?"

If he gave Qin Shu a hundred million, would Qin Shu let him lick his wound again?

Qin Shu was speechless.

He really wanted to throw down with these rich people.

His right hand wrapped in bandage roughly pulled Li Wuya over, shoulder to shoulder. "With all this money, you could buy me, couldn't you?"

Li Wuya carefully shielded the flowers in his arms, his expression unchanged. "Don't say something so easily misunderstood."

At this, Qin Shu felt indignant and aggrieved.

"Do we even have room to avoid misunderstandings?"

"Hm?"

"Yesterday's flowers!"

"Oh."

"Wuya, is that all you have to say?"

Li Wuya pursed his lips slightly.

Yesterday's bouquet was the biggest mistake of his life.

If he had known A Shu would want it, he would have personally selected and arranged—no, personally planted and cultivated. He would never give A Shu such ugly flowers!

Speaking of which, should he take a flower arranging class?

His mind was racing, but his face remained calm.

Li Wuya asked casually, "When you gave me flowers today, weren't you afraid of being misunderstood?"

Qin Shu was speechless.

"Holy crap, I was so busy thinking about a return gift I totally forgot about this!"

Li Wuya patted Qin Shu on the shoulder, nonchalantly: "No big deal, a gentleman's got nothing to hide."

Qin Shu said grimly, "Fine."

Forget it—compared to a girlfriend who was basically a fantasy anyway, getting Li Wuya a gift was way more important.

And besides, it's just giving flowers. Who says friends can't send flowers?

-

That evening, after taking a nice, slow shower, Qin Shu opened his terminal.

First, he checked Li Wuya's messages.

There was a picture: the flowers were in a vase, called an "Eternal Vase." As the name suggests, it keeps flowers fresh forever.

Man, the interstellar age really does have some high-tech stuff.

Then he looked at the team's group chat.

About the accident this afternoon—the guide who got kidnapped was fine, just really shaken up. While giving his statement, he kept asking where the guy who saved him went. The out-of-control high-level sentinel was sent to a treatment facility. There was some damage, but luckily no casualties—mostly because Qin Shu got there in time.

Word about his injured hand seemed to have spread; a bunch of people in his contacts were asking if he was alright.

What's there to be wrong? Just a scratch.

After answering a few people, Qin Shu got annoyed. He posted an update saying he was fine, cleared all the messages with one tap, and the world finally shut up.

The team's group chat buzzed again.

": Hey Captain, let me ask you—did you give General Li flowers too?"

"Kongtong Not Interested 7432: ..."

"Kongtong Not Interested 7432: Can't friends send each other flowers!"

"Kongtong Not Interested 7432: ."

Can these little idiots ever say something nice?

Pissed off, he closed the group chat.

He scrolled through updates aimlessly for a bit before finally remembering why he'd opened his terminal in the first place.

He opened the StarNet headlines and typed "Li Wuya" into the search bar.

"General Li attends...", "General Li shows up at...", "General Li appointed as..."

Politics, gossip, endless articles.

As he scrolled through them, Qin Shu finally got a real sense that his buddy was a big deal in the empire.

Scrolling down from the latest news, the official media hadn't reported on the flowers, but the tabloids were going wild.

"Shocking! General Li gives flowers to secret boyfriend", "Flower-gate? Li Wuya's secret boyfriend about to be exposed", "Something's up! General Li is pursuing a mystery person"...

Qin Shu actually let out a sigh of relief.

Hah, it wasn't as crazy as the office's teasing—just at the "boyfriend" level. Why'd they have to hand him a marriage form?

Scrolling further, he found news from a few days ago about Li Wuya attending some noble parties, with lots of noble guides there.

The gossip said a romance might be in the works.

When he opened the picture, Qin Shu almost laughed.

That guide looked like he was about to cry—and they call those tears "affection"? These media outlets are so over the top.

Further down were serious news about official duties, all filled with over-the-top praise.

The youngest general in history, the duke most trusted by the Empress...

How powerful, how dominant in politics, turning the world upside down, endlessly glorious.

Qin Shu found it novel.

The Li Wuya outside was practically a different creature from the private Li Wuya.

Who would have thought the real him was someone prone to self-blame, liked telling lame jokes, and was stubborn and unyielding?

And he wasn't as glorious as it seemed, right? Working overtime every day, attending meetings, being hunted by political enemies, struggling every step of the way—he hadn't even cured his battlefield PTSD.

Qin Shu remembered the times he lost control.

Last time, biting off a fork; this time—

Well, forget it, better not think about it.

Qin Shu unconsciously clenched his hand.

That feeling was really strange. Next time, he absolutely couldn't let him lick it again.