Chapter 14: Merely Coveting His Beauty

Chapter 14: He Just Wants His Body

Seeing the panic in Li Zhiming's eyes, Sang Yu was unusually gentle, explaining, "The eldest young master's wound isn't good for carrying on my back."

From an angle Li Zhiming couldn't see, Sang Yu pressed his lips together, savoring the satisfaction of a scheme well played.

From Li Zhiming's angle, he could only see Sang Yu's sharp jawline and fair, delicate skin, glowing with an ethereal beauty in the moonlight.

He suddenly remembered the first time he saw Sang Yu in the dungeon—a small boy covered in wounds, a massive hook piercing his sternum.

He was in agony over just a tiny dart.

How much pain must Sang Yu have endured back then, with a huge bloody hole through him and his body battered and bloodied...

At that thought, Li Zhiming bit his lip, forcing himself not to whimper or yelp, trying to look more manly.

Not hearing a whimper, Sang Yu paused, then carried him quickly through the small garden, turned a corner into his room, and slammed the door shut.

"You're safer here with me."

He laid the pale-faced Li Zhiming on the bed. Maybe he didn't control his strength and hit the wound, because Li Zhiming yelped and didn't dare breathe too hard.

Damn, is there any painkiller?

He rolled his eyes.

He'd almost bitten through his lip.

Sang Yu looked at him, thought for a moment, then handed over a clean white cloth: "I know how to treat wounds. Bite down on this."

Damn it all!

He wanted to cry.

He didn't want to bite it. Too humiliating.

Sang Yu tossed the cloth over and threatened flatly, "Then I'll just pull the dart out myself. You won't die, it'll just hurt a little."

"!"

Li Zhiming shook his head frantically, his eyes reddening—a look that was nothing short of alluring.

Sang Yu's heart skipped a beat. He suddenly remembered those dirty picture books the guards had forced him to look at out of spite.

Explicit stuff that blew his mind.

Men and women, even humans and beasts, doing all kinds of wild things—they seemed to reach some kind of ecstatic bliss doing it.

He didn't get it.

But now, seeing Li Zhiming like this, like a lotus blooming from water, he couldn't help but gulp, those graphic images flooding back into his mind.

If it were him, what would that look like?

Would he cry and beg for mercy in a trembling voice like in those books?

Or would he cry and wrap his arms around his waist?

Or would he go along with it, lost in soul-destroying passion, letting out those blush-inducing words?

"Ah, it hurts."

Li Zhiming couldn't take it anymore, sweat beading on his forehead.

The dart was still stuck in him, and just looking at it made it hurt more.

His cry snapped Sang Yu out of his thoughts.

Sang Yu's eyes darkened: "This dart has to come out now. Bear with it. Bite down."

"No." Li Zhiming couldn't stop trembling. "The doctor, the doctor's coming soon. Don't, don't do anything rash, I... mmm..."

He didn't trust Sang Yu. The doctor was way more reliable.

Unexpectedly, Sang Yu stuffed the cloth into his mouth and stared at him threateningly: "I said I can do it. Don't worry, I won't kill you."

Li Zhiming's eyes went wide. Bro, you're the one who tried to kill me before. Help...

Then, suddenly.

"OWWWW—mmm... mmm...!!!"

The intense pain made every cell in his body scream. He nearly shot up, but a hand pressed him down. The dart was tossed carelessly to the ground.

Clatter.

The wound wasn't actually deep, and there wasn't much blood, but Li Zhiming was too afraid of pain. Tears burst out instantly, and fine sweat beaded on his forehead.

He looked utterly pitiful, all teary-eyed.

Sang Yu blinked: "Stop yelling. You're still alive."

Li Zhiming looked at him, tearful and helpless.

It hurts.

The next second, a sense of dread washed over him.

Rip.

His clothes were ripped open forcefully. It didn't pull at his wound, but the force and the sound alone scared him—it was too rough.

"Mmm, mmm mmm mmm."

He wanted to say: What the hell are you doing!?

Sang Yu seemed to understand and continued, fully focused: "Treating the wound. Otherwise it'll get infected and hurt more."

"Mmm, mmm."

"Don't move."

Li Zhiming was too scared to move.

Only his inner garment was left. Sang Yu bent down, thought for a moment, then carefully lifted it open instead of tearing it.

There was blood on it, but not much.

His movements were quick and gentle. Li Zhiming calmed down and actually paid attention—there was no extra pain. Then the medicine was applied and the wound was bandaged.

The whole thing happened so fast it felt surreal.

"All done."

Sang Yu covered him with the blanket and, as he looked up, his gaze collided mid-air with Li Zhiming's timid eyes.

Li Zhiming had a pair of alluring, peach-blossom eyes and a handsome face. When he stared fixedly at someone without blinking, there was a natural charm that could stir one's heart and leave them feeling unsettled.

He's not taking his eyes off me—is he into me?

He took me by force, found me unwilling, and threw me in here in a rage. Is he switching things up now? Trying a new angle to get me to give in willingly?

How bad can a little wound like this hurt? He's totally playing the victim to get my sympathy.

Ha, what a sly fox.

Sang Yu pulled himself together, steadied his nerves, and pulled the handkerchief from his mouth: "Get some rest. I'll go check outside."

He started to get up.

"Wait!"

Li Zhiming grabbed his clothes in a panic, yanking so hard he tore them open slightly.

Just then, the door was pushed open. Feng Yin, dragging a doctor whose clothes weren't even properly fastened, burst in like the place was on fire: "Young master, why are you... here... uh..."

In the room, outer and inner garments were scattered messily on the floor—a sight that screamed scandal.

His young master was lying there on Sang Yu's bed, perfectly fine, eyes red and glistening with tears, one hand still clutching Sang Yu's clothes, like a wronged, tearful bride.

Sang Yu sat by the bed, his clothes pulled askew, exposing his collarbone and chest in a way that was all too tempting, with a telltale flush spreading to his ears.

With the clothes strewn all over the floor, it only fueled the imagination further.

Feng Yin covered his face and pushed the petrified doctor back out with one hand: "Young master, as long as you're okay, I didn't see a thing. I'll, uh, head out now and keep watch outside."

He even thoughtfully closed the door behind him.

Li Zhiming's face, which had been pale, now went black as coal.

Sang Yu raised an eyebrow, understanding everything.

Sure enough, even his personal guard knew of his intentions toward him—why else would he misunderstand like that? Truly, his lustful nature remained unchanged, shameless.

So much for making amends—that was just a ploy.

He simply wanted his body.

"Ahem."

Li Zhiming gave an awkward, placating smile and silently let go of the clothes he was clutching, completely unaware of what was running through Sang Yu's mind at that moment. The air hung frozen in silence.