Chapter 106

Chapter 106

At first, Shen Lian hadn't planned to drink, but people he'd chatted with kept toasting him, and before he knew it, he'd had a bit too much.

After crossing a certain threshold, he suddenly felt light and floaty.

The questions circling in his mind—how to restore trust, how to lower the corruption value—all vanished at once.

It was like falling from a galloping horse's back into that embrace that made him feel completely safe, his heart felt full to bursting, as if he could hear his young male concubine murmuring and laughing softly by his ear.

Shen Lian began pouring wine for himself, trying to grasp that former happiness of complete mutual trust, trying to make the illusion feel more real.

He drank cup after cup, then had the waiter bring him a whole jar of wine.

After crossing yet another threshold, his memories began to fragment and break apart.

The Young Male Concubine in his fantasies also faded into mist, no longer visible, leaving Shen Lian alone once more in his solitude.

Headaches and nausea surged over him from time to time. His friends helped him stumble into a guest room to rest, and even Han Wangchuan, busy as he was, came to check on him.

A waiter brought a bowl of soup—he couldn't tell who it was—and fed it to him spoonful by spoonful.

After a few sips, he lay down. His friends left the room, and the noise faded away.

His body was numb and the world was spinning, yet sleep wouldn't come.

It felt like only a moment later when someone came with another bowl of medicinal broth to feed him. Shen Lian waved his hand and mumbled, "No need, I already drank some."

But the person still pressed the spoon to his lips, practically forcing it down his throat.

After a few sips, he suddenly felt all his strength drain away. He slumped sideways on the bed, and the person feeding him propped him back onto the pillow.

The man leaned close to his ear and said, his voice barely containing his excitement, "Rest a while, beauty. Big brother will be here soon to show you a real good time."

Those words made Shen Lian's hazy heart jolt, as if he'd just swallowed a red-hot branding iron. A vague terror washed over his body.

Clutching the bedsheet, eyes shut, he pretended to have passed out.

He couldn't tell if anyone was still in the room, couldn't even hear the door move. His body sank into a weightless, kaleidoscopic haze, senses on high alert.

He wanted to crawl out of bed and run for help, but it was like sleep paralysis—again and again he imagined himself tumbling off the bed, yet his body wouldn't move an inch.

When he came to again, he found someone undoing the front of his robe. The moment the fabric fell open, his heightened senses made the autumn air feel as bitingly cold as winter.

Regaining a sliver of awareness, Shen Lian mustered all his remaining strength to raise his hand and grab the one undoing his buttons, rasping, "Let go... get off."

The moment he spoke, the person on his legs suddenly lunged forward, pinning both his hands above his head. A strange, wine-soaked face loomed over him in an instant, hot breath washing over his skin.

Shen Lian held his breath, summoning strength like a dying man's last rally. He bent his right knee to kick the man off, but barely got it up before the man sat down hard, crushing it.

The guest room's rosewood bed creaked and groaned under them.

His desperate struggles were crushed again and again. The man even freed one hand and started pulling at his underclothes again.

"Mmm—mmm—! Mmm—!" Alcohol and terror had paralyzed his tongue. Unable to cry out for help, Shen Lian's face turned purple as he desperately grunted through his nose.

His muffled noises only seemed to egg the man on. Impatient, before even getting his clothes open, the man leaned down toward his mouth, trying to catch his lips.

Shen Lian arched his back and jerked his head up, lips pressed tightly together to avoid it—but then, suddenly, the weight on him vanished.

With a dull thud, an elbow struck precisely at the temple, and the man on top of Shen Lian had his head knocked askew. The tall figure who'd appeared at the bedside didn't stop there—he raised his foot and kicked the man hard in the side.

The man toppled over, crashing through the rosewood bed rail with a crack, and rolled onto the floor. He tumbled several times like a dead pig before coming to a stop.

Rage had made Xie Yuan—who'd just arrived—lose control of his strength. The blow to the temple had already knocked the man out; the kick that sent him flying carried no pain behind it. Even after he stopped rolling and lay motionless, the lecher let out no groan—whether he was still breathing, nobody could tell.

Xie Yuan's eyes were icy cold. He turned on his heel, about to walk around the bed and wake the man up to keep beating him.

But Shen Lian's trembling left hand desperately grabbed hold of his pinky and ring finger.

Outside the door, Han Wangchuan and the others had hurried to catch up with the Crown Prince. The moment they stepped inside, they saw his back, standing by the bed.

Shen Lian, lying on the bed, raised one arm, his shaking hand hooking the Crown Prince's fingers, as if using every ounce of strength, terrified that the Crown Prince would leave.

Though his voice was very soft, everyone could hear the suppressed whimper coming from Shen Lian's nose.

The rosewood bed in the center of the room had lost its rail, and one of the connecting posts had snapped too. The misaligned broken wood couldn't support the weight, and one corner of the canopy tilted and sagged down.

Soon they found the man who'd been kicked flying into the cabinet in the inner room. Some vaguely guessed what had happened and backed away, staying silent, not wanting to take the blame.

Han Wangchuan rushed forward anxiously to check if Shen Lian was hurt. He'd barely taken a step when the Crown Prince's voice cut through like ice: "Don't come near. Revive that thing on the floor. Deliver it to my residence before dawn."

"Yes!" Everyone hurried to obey.

The Crown Prince said nothing more. He bent down, wrapped Shen Lian in the bedsheet, and carried him horizontally out the door.

Stepping out of the tavern.

The cool night breeze roused Shen Lian a little more.

His breath still came in rapid bursts against the Young Male Concubine's collarbone. He struggled to free both hands from the bedsheet, trembling as he wrapped them around the Young Male Concubine's neck, his fingertips gently tracing the back of his neck, trying to confirm this wasn't another dream about to shatter.

"Dian Xia..."

Xie Yuan got into the carriage with a cold face, completely ignoring the hoarse calls from the man in his arms.

Receiving no response, Shen Lian panicked, as if trapped back in a nightmare. But he couldn't raise his voice, so he kept calling out in a dazed, barely-there breath.

"Dian Xia?"

"Dian~xia~"

"Dian xia~~~"

The Young Male Concubine holding him finally let out a low, hoarse warning: "Stop calling. If you cause trouble, I'll do whatever I please."

Such a real, familiar voice thundered in Shen Lian's ears, finally pulling him back to this world.

But his mind couldn't process what the Young Male Concubine's words meant. He only felt the heat in his body gathering toward his lower abdomen.

He buried his face in the Young Male Concubine's neck. The carriage jolted, pressing him heavier and heavier into the Young Male Concubine's arms, yet he wanted to sink even deeper, never to be released.

Not enough.

Deeper. Complete possession. Merge into one. Right now.

Xie Yuan, still consumed by anger and plotting whether he could tack a charge of negligence onto Han Wangchuan while dealing with that dead-pig lecher, suddenly snapped back to attention.

He reached down and grabbed the hand that had already slipped into the front of his robe. Looking down in shock at the trembling little cat in his arms, whimpering with grievance, he demanded, "What are you doing?"

"Mm... mm..." Shen Lian blinked his wet, red-rimmed eyes in grievance, the rising heat making him swallow hard as he hastily justified himself: "So chest muscles are actually elastic, Dian Xia? I thought they'd be hard..."

Xie Yuan gritted his teeth: "You better behave. Do you even know whose arms you're in? The one who entered that chastity contest is the male concubine you look down on, Dian Xia. I am the Crown Prince, and the Crown Prince has no patience."

Shen Lian's mind was already hijacked by the heat surging in his gut.

He twisted his wrist, trying to break free to keep touching, and replied drowsily: "Crown Prince? A pleasure to meet you. I'm an intern doctor from the Imperial Medical Academy, lacking clinical experience. May I ask, when you tense your body forcefully, are your chest muscles hard or soft? Can I feel them to check?"

It only took one dopey look from Shen Lian for Xie Yuan to go from shocked to laughing in exasperation. "Sure. One touch costs you an hour of work. Three touches minimum. Can the Imperial Medical Academy cover that?"

"Work... work... an hour..." Shen Lian's hazy gaze even snapped into focus from fear, and he pitifully downgraded his request: "What about abs? Can abs be cheaper?"

"One touch on the abs costs two hours."

Shen Lian's captured wrist was still raised high, growing cold and numb, yet he refused to let go. "Mm... Can I trade for it with other skills?"

The venomous physician's eyes, locked on Xie Yuan, were extra dewy, his porcelain-white skin flushed pink.

The tyrant's base instincts stirred in the man, and the Crown Prince asked with zero shame: "What skills?"

"I can imitate your beloved cat." Shen Lian curled his free hand beside his cheek and let out a sly, cutesy voice at the young male concubine: "Meow~ meow~~ meow—mm!"

The young male concubine clamped a hand over his mouth.

Xie Yuan had originally planned to toy with the venomous physician while he was drunk, reliving the joy of teasing the little fool, but he lost in one move—turns out he was the one getting played.

The War God of Great Wei was snapped awake by a single meow.

Even in the carriage.

He glared at the venomous little cat through gritted teeth: "You asking for—ugh!"

Shen Lian's left hand regained freedom and seized the opportunity, sliding from chest to abs, his fingertips accidentally bumping into the burning heat at the center of the young male concubine's abdomen.

"Mm!" Shen Lian nervously withdrew his paw, afraid it might be chopped off, shielding the offending hand with the other, and preemptively accused: "Why do you leave your stuff lying around? I just needed to understand the elasticity of your abs."

The flush spread from his ears down to the heaving chest muscles beneath his collar. A hint of ruthlessness quickly ignited in Xie Yuan's intrigued gaze, his voice low and hoarse: "Where do you get such boldness? Do you think I wouldn't dare do something to you in this carriage?"

Shen Lian pursed his lips, lowered his head, wrapped the bedsheet tighter, and whispered provocatively: "I'm not afraid. There's a driver outside—if we make too much noise, he'll hear. Dian Xia may not care about me now, but he cares about his reputation in front of others."

This somehow made Xie Yuan's chest tighten. He frowned, staring at the venomous physician in his arms. "So you know he used to care about you very much? Very much. Even if it's just to save your life, at least make up a better excuse to soothe him. Can't you part on good terms? Shen Lian, why did that letter have to be so cruel? Afraid I'd cling on and refuse to let go?"

Shen Lian's dazed eyes suddenly turned panicked and desperate. He abruptly hugged the young male concubine's neck tighter, as if afraid of being thrown out: "Dian Xia! Dian Xia! Don't read the letter! Let's rewind to before the campaign—I won't meddle in other people's business anymore! I didn't know you were Prince Qi then; I was just afraid you might die in battle..."