Chapter 24: I Want to Kiss You

Ice cones whizzed past his ears, slamming into the tree trunks with a dull thud. In the blink of an eye, Song Chengfeng had sustained numerous scratches. Enduring the pain, he cast a quick glance behind him before rolling into the bushes beside the road.

As the tree trunks shielded his body, the sound of ice cones shattering against the ground did not cease; instead, it intensified. Song Chengfeng cautiously poked his head out and saw Yan Zhuo leaping from the vehicle, charging forward to meet the ice cones head-on without evasion. His speed was so incredible that he was little more than a blur.

His wounds were still bleeding, and the pain continued to spread. It was only then that Song Chengfeng realized: Yan Zhuo wasn't just exceptionally skilled in combat; he was fundamentally superhuman.

An ice cone shattered in mid-air. Yan Zhuo reached for the dagger strapped to his person but paused, ultimately deciding not to draw it. To the man's utter disbelief, he grabbed him by the throat and pinned him forcefully to the ground.

"Gah—"

Dust billowed as the man writhed. Yan Zhuo frowned, released his grip on the man's throat, and instead seized both of his wrists, twisting his arms behind his back in a submission hold.

A flash of white light appeared before his eyes. He looked up, squinting, and tilted his head to dodge an incoming axe.

Seeing the strike fail, the blonde man's face twisted with malice. He shifted the angle of the axe and swung it toward Yan Zhuo’s chest.

"Back off!" Song Chengfeng roared at Yan Zhuo, delivering a fierce kick to the blonde man’s back.

The blonde man was already frail, and Song Chengfeng’s kick was solid. Unable to withstand the force, he stumbled and fell to his knees, the axe sliding away into the nearby weeds.

Yan Zhuo maintained his hold on the first man. Song Chengfeng stepped on the blonde man’s back, panting as he complained, "If you had been any later, I’d be dead."

He pressed down with his foot, grinding into the blonde man's back. "Not bad. No wonder you were so confident; you’ve got quite a few tricks up your sleeve."

The blonde man’s face was smeared with dirt, and a stone had cut the corner of his eye, leaving a trail of blood. He struggled incessantly, desperate to break free from under Song Chengfeng’s foot. "Let me go!"

The man held by Yan Zhuo, however, had calmed down. "This has nothing to do with him. I placed the spikes on the road. Let him go."

"Shut up!" the blonde man shouted emotionally. "I don't need your fake kindness!"

"Don't put on this act of deep devotion for me." Song Chengfeng sneered, gesturing to his own wounds. "Do you really think I’d believe that?"

He lifted his foot and crouched down. "Tell me, is this your first time doing something like this?"

The man was expressionless. He neither denied nor admitted it, only repeating, "It has nothing to do with him. Let him go."

Song Chengfeng scoffed. "You’re quite interesting. Given the current situation, what makes you think you have the right to negotiate with me?"

He turned to Yan Zhuo to seek his opinion. "Kill him?"

He had never killed anyone before, but that didn't stop the thought from surfacing now.

Before Yan Zhuo could decide how to respond, he heard Qu Yan call out to him. He turned his head to see Qu Yan leaning halfway out of the car, saying, "I want to talk to them."

"Let me handle it," Song Chengfeng interjected. This man was too dangerous; he didn't dare let Yan Zhuo loosen his grip.

He trotted over, retrieved the wheelchair from the trunk, unfolded it beside the car, and watched Qu Yan shift into it. Lowering his voice, he asked, "You want to let them go?"

Qu Yan glanced at him and displayed the remnants of the ice cone, now almost entirely melted in his hand. "Don't you want to know how this is possible?"

Their eyes met, and Song Chengfeng smiled. "As expected of an old partner; we still have that rapport."

Qu Yan was pushed over by Song Chengfeng. He took in the sight of the two men on the ground, lowered his eyes in thought for two seconds, and said, "Let them go."

Yan Zhuo hesitated, but after Qu Yan nodded affirmatively, he released his grip and quickly stepped in front of Qu Yan.

The moment he was released, the man scrambled over to the blonde man’s side, his gaze remaining vigilant. "What do you want?"

Qu Yan was completely blocked from view by Yan Zhuo, hearing the voices but unable to see the speakers. He tugged helplessly at Yan Zhuo’s sleeve. "Don't worry, it's fine."

For once, Yan Zhuo did not listen to him. He remained stubbornly motionless, shielding Qu Yan firmly behind him.

With no other choice, Qu Yan tilted his head and said, "There's no need to be nervous. I just want to strike a deal. In exchange, we can share some of the supplies from the vehicle with you."

The man looked at the blonde man; seeing him remain silent, he agreed, "Fine, but no tricks."

"Don't worry. Businessmen value integrity, and we are no exception," Song Chengfeng lied without changing his expression.

Qu Yan scanned the area and suggested, "Since we're doing business, why not move to a safer place?"

The man helped the blonde man to his feet, his eyes still wary. Ignoring Song Chengfeng and Yan Zhuo, he looked at Qu Yan. "Our shelter is nearby."

The car tires were ruined, but the supplies remained. Since the road was inconvenient, they had to leave them there for the moment. Song Chengfeng returned to the vehicle to pick up the "little thing," grabbing a few other important items along the way.

The previously silent blonde man suddenly spoke up, "We have a tricycle; it’s enough to transport the goods."

An olive branch? Song Chengfeng raised an eyebrow. "Then I’ll borrow it in a moment."

The path they had chosen was indeed decent; there were no buildings around, and they hadn't encountered any zombies along the way. On the walk, the man gave a brief introduction: he called himself Lin Wu, and said the blonde man was his younger brother, Lin Liu.

The truth of this could not be verified, but names were merely labels, and no one bothered to dwell on it.

The group navigated their way through several turns, eventually arriving at an unfinished building. Lin Wu stopped. "This is it."

Song Chengfeng looked it over critically. "Are you sure it's safe inside?"

"I’ve cleared it out myself. There isn't a single zombie," Lin Wu stated confidently.

Thinking of the ice cones he had conjured, Song Chengfeng chose to believe him.

Entering through a dilapidated iron gate, Lin Wu led them up a very worn-out staircase. "We usually stay on the second floor."

The stairs creaked loudly. Qu Yan was being carried by Yan Zhuo, his ear pressed against Yan Zhuo's chest, where he could hear the clear, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. That feeling returned—his throat felt dry, and he was desperate to do something, though he didn't know what.

How annoying. He felt as if he were being driven mad.

The second floor was empty and dim, with various household items and debris piled in the corners. There were indeed traces of people living here; it seemed the man hadn't lied.

Song Chengfeng exchanged a look with Qu Yan, asking for his thoughts with his eyes.

Qu Yan said, "Go get the things from the car first."

Song Chengfeng nodded. That was crucial; although the area seemed deserted, one could never be sure. If someone took the supplies they had worked so hard to collect, their efforts would be in vain.

"You go with him," Yan Zhuo said to Song Chengfeng, his gaze shifting to Lin Wu.

Song Chengfeng was stunned for a moment before he understood Yan Zhuo’s meaning. If he and Yan Zhuo both went back, leaving Qu Yan alone here wouldn't be safe. Moreover, after what had happened, Yan Zhuo would absolutely refuse to leave Qu Yan alone again. If he went with Lin Wu and left the blonde man here, given Lin Wu’s earlier behavior, he clearly valued his brother highly, so he wouldn't dare pull any tricks on the road.

Song Chengfeng had no objections, and naturally, Lin Wu had no reason to refuse.

After settling the "little thing," Song Chengfeng didn't even have time to tend to his wounds before calling Lin Wu and hurrying away.

The unfinished building was in the shadows, and the second floor received almost no sunlight, making it feel excessively cold.

The blonde man’s face was pale; ever since they arrived, he had found a corner to close his eyes and rest.

Yan Zhuo carried Qu Yan behind an oil drum. Finding a wooden board on the floor, he sat down but did not put Qu Yan down.

Meeting Qu Yan’s gaze, he explained, "The floor is dirty."

The gauze on his neck hadn't been removed, and occasionally touching his Adam's apple still caused an itch. Qu Yan looked at Yan Zhuo at close range, and that inexplicable craving surged once more.

He traced Yan Zhuo’s features with his gaze, sliding down from the bridge of his nose to his beautifully shaped lips. He paused for two seconds and said, "I want to kiss you."

Yan Zhuo’s pupils dilated. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. His lips moved, and he could only whisper his name: "Qu Yan..."

Qu Yan shifted his body until they were face-to-face, wrapping his arms around Yan Zhuo’s neck. "Don't you want to?"

"I... Mm!"

There was no opportunity to speak. His chin was gripped, and Qu Yan’s lips pressed against his—cool and soft.

They were so soft. Qu Yan carried the scent of medicine, which seemed to permeate the kiss. Yan Zhuo felt a wave of dizziness, his breath hitching.

So, this was what a kiss felt like. He remembered the days when he had spied on him, countless times tracing Qu Yan’s lips through photographs, imagining the sensation. In endless, viscous dreams, he had held Qu Yan’s slender back, kissing him tirelessly.

But this was different. This was what kissing was truly like: they were physically touching, their temperatures exchanging, making his past fantasies seem crude and pathetic.

"Breathe..."

Qu Yan bit his lip in dissatisfaction, then a soft tongue probed forward, licking his bitten wound as if to soothe it.

Yan Zhuo felt a jolt like an electric current go through his entire body. He instinctively tightened his grip on Qu Yan’s waist, a short, stifled moan escaping his throat.

Qu Yan pulled back slightly, his lips flushed. He playfully pinched Yan Zhuo’s cheeks, forcing him to open his mouth and reveal his innocent tongue.

"Be quiet, or we’ll be discovered."

Although the oil drum blocked their view, sound could easily travel.

Yan Zhuo couldn't speak and could only nod.

Satisfied, Qu Yan pressed back onto him. The stimulation of their tongues meeting was too intense; the once-pure kiss had completely changed in nature.

Yan Zhuo’s eyes grew increasingly unfocused, his hands tightening around Qu Yan. His innate instincts drove him to take the lead, but having never truly kissed anyone before, he could only respond clumsily.

Qu Yan pulled away. "Don't move. If you move, I’ll stop."

A faint whimper escaped his throat; the unsatisfied little wolf looked aggrieved.

Qu Yan cupped his cheeks. "Not even a twitch, and don't use your tongue."

Finally, his body found a measure of satisfaction, and the frantic, obsessive craving began to fade. Qu Yan kissed Yan Zhuo, controlling his entire being with his lips and tongue.

*This is how it should be,* Qu Yan thought. A pure, naive little wolf—it was so much more interesting to play with him like this.

Seeing him endure his desires to obey his commands, panting and pleading, he loved it far too much.