Chapter 46: What Is This?

A thin piece of black cloth fell over Qu Yan's eyes, plunging him into absolute darkness where he could see nothing at all.

The loss of his sight made panic surge within him. He flailed his hands blindly until they brushed against Yan Zhuo's arm, and he clung to it tightly, as if grasping a final piece of driftwood in a stormy sea.

With nimble fingers, Yan Zhuo tied a knot in the black cloth. "Don't cry, A-Yan."

Tears could sometimes act as a potent catalyst for excitement.

Something was unlatched; a soft, metallic click vibrated against Qu Yan's eardrums. A cool, viscous liquid dripped down, making Qu Yan shiver from the chill, while the rest of his body burned with feverish heat. He was kneaded and molded like a soft rubber ball, instantly plunging him into a realm where ice and fire raged simultaneously.

Desire, fierce as oil poured over blazing flames, overwhelmed and devoured everything.

His reason hung by a thread. Qu Yan felt as though he had melted into a pool of water, every single sensation across his entire body completely controlled by Yan Zhuo.

He could neither suppress his ragged gasps nor find the strength to evade.

The second hand of the wall clock in the bedroom ticked around the dial countless times. On that winter night, Qu Yan broke out in a fine layer of sweat, his hands alternately gripping and releasing the soft bedsheets.

His neck was strained taut, like a bow pulled to its absolute limit, ready to snap with the slightest extra force.

"Do you like it, A-Yan?" Yan Zhuo asked with evident pleasure.

Qu Yan bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle the low groans threatening to spill past them.

"Why aren't you speaking? Does A-Yan not like it?"

Seeming entirely oblivious to Qu Yan's growing annoyance, Yan Zhuo closed his palm. The calluses formed by years of handling blades had now become his finest weapons. He murmured as if talking to himself, "Clearly, you love it."

Qu Yan was rendered entirely speechless. The honest reactions of his body made spots dance before his eyes, while a persistent ringing echoed in his ears.

A moment later, his trembling body suddenly stiffened. Qu Yan went completely limp, his arms losing all strength as they dropped away from the mattress, his lower abdomen twitching in a spasm.

"What is this?" Yan Zhuo asked in an innocent tone.

"Yan Zhuo!" Qu Yan rebuked him angrily.

It had no effect on Yan Zhuo whatsoever. He lowered his head, casting his shadow over Qu Yan. His shoulders already possessed the broad frame of a mature man, and his loose shirt revealed a lean waist and long, straight legs draped over the edge of the bed. He tilted his head slightly and raised his hand with an expression of profound puzzlement, "Does A-Yan not know? You don't even recognize your own body's response?"

His slender fingers were wet as they slowly approached Qu Yan's face. Yan Zhuo's expression was one of genuine curiosity; if one ignored the current context, he looked almost like an eager student solely devoted to learning.

Yet beneath the guise of the diligent student lay nothing but malice.

The still-warm fluid slid down his fingers and dropped with a soft pat onto Qu Yan's collarbone. Qu Yan turned his face away in shame, closing his eyes, unwilling to look any longer.

"Didn't A-Yan say that you would only give me what I wanted if I asked for it? Then why won't you answer my question?" Yan Zhuo leaned in with a feigned reproach, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick away the droplet on Qu Yan's collarbone. "Liar."

He spoke indifferently, the expression on his face shifting in an instant, as if the tenderness from just moments before had been merely a fleeting illusion.

Circling back to the previous topic, Qu Yan's cheek was pinched firmly between Yan Zhuo's fingers. Forced to open his eyes, Qu Yan met Yan Zhuo's ink-black pupils. "What kind of answer do you want?"

"Will you give me whatever I ask for? A-Yan is truly remarkable, even tailoring the answers to fit my desires." Yan Zhuo let out a scoff, grabbing a tissue to wipe the fluid smeared between his fingers, his voice devoid of emotion. "I want you to like me, to love me. Will you give me that?"

"I like you." Qu Yan parted his brightly colored lips, having regained his composure enough to wear his usual effortless facade. "Love you? Fine, I love you."

An answer like that was worse than no answer at all.

Yan Zhuo's face darkened instantly, dark emotions churning within his gaze. He curved his lips in an unreadable smile, gripping Qu Yan's ankles and pulling him closer.

He didn't need to exert any effort at all; Qu Yan possessed virtually no weight.

In the blink of an eye, Qu Yan slid from the center of the bed to the foot, adopting a posture of extreme humiliation and vulnerability.

Dazed for a moment, Qu Yan fluttered his eyelashes. "Are you unsatisfied?"

He had clearly given the answer Yan Zhuo wanted to hear.

He had forgotten once again that the Yan Zhuo of today was no longer the young wolf cub of two years ago, easily pacified by a single word from him.

The soft flesh along the side of his thigh, hidden from the sunlight, was gently stroked. After a few seconds of silence, Yan Zhuo said, "I've changed my mind. Is that not allowed? Or is A-Yan the only one permitted to be a liar?"

Qu Yan never wanted to hear the word "liar" again for the rest of his life.

With great difficulty, he propped himself up to catch Yan Zhuo's wandering hands, though he vastly overestimated his own strength and underestimated Yan Zhuo's.

Naturally, he failed to catch them, merely brushing against Yan Zhuo's wrist for a brief second. When his fingertips touched the uneven, textured skin, Qu Yan paused, his probing gaze shifting to Yan Zhuo's wrist.

In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, he saw the dense network of scars covering Yan Zhuo's wrists.

Some were completely healed, while others had barely formed scabs.

Given Yan Zhuo's formidable martial prowess, who could possibly inflict such injuries upon him?

A faint suspicion stirred in Qu Yan's heart, though he found it hard to believe.

Yan Zhuo, however, seemed entirely unconcerned. He stroked the ugly, winding scars on his wrist, a trace of moisture flashing in the depths of his eyes. "Wen Xi said that your heart would ache for me. Will it?"

Qu Yan's lips parted slightly, but before he could utter a sound, his mouth was covered—Yan Zhuo refused to give him a chance to answer.

"Never mind, A-Yan would only lie again. I don't want to hear it."

A shadow of gloom crossed his eyes. Then, as if recalling something, he spoke up, "Earlier, A-Yan asked me what you were doing the very first time I saw you, and I said you were feeding a cat. Actually, that answer was wrong. That wasn't the first time I saw you."

"Before I turned seven, I was kept and raised alongside dogs. I couldn't speak, nor could I walk upright. Yan Xingzhang called this an experiment. Then, one day, unable to bear the needles that were plunged into my body every single day, I broke free from my dog chain and ran away..."

As he uttered the word "dog chain," his palm stroked the back of Qu Yan's neck. Meeting Qu Yan's shocked eyes, he smiled without any humor. "Yes, the dog chain worn right here. Don't be scared, A-Yan, I won't make you wear one."

He resumed the story he had left unfinished. "Towering skyscrapers, bustling crowds of traffic—yet I was the strangest of all, like a freakish monster. I discovered that compared to the pitch-black, narrow spaces and the needles, I feared the gaze of human beings even more. I fled from the crowds, hiding away in the bushes... and I saw you, A-Yan."

The pretty little boy was dressed in clean clothes, a soft smile curving the corners of his lips. He was holding a small puppy, rubbing his cheek against it with great intimacy.

That was a gentleness Yan Zhuo had never once received in his life.

"At that moment, I found myself wondering: why couldn't I be the dog in your arms?" Yan Zhuo pulled his hand away from Qu Yan's face and nipped gently at his lips. "A-Yan, that must have been the first time in my life I tasted jealousy."

Qu Yan's unfocused pupils slowly regained their clarity as he murmured, "I don't remember..."

Scarcely any memories of his seventh year remained in his mind. He did not remember ever holding a dog, let alone a boy named Yan Zhuo spying on him from the bushes.

Yan Zhuo pulled him tightly into his arms. "I remember, A-Yan. It's enough that I remember."

...

When everything finally subsided, Qu Yan didn't even want to lift a single finger.

He was lifted into the bathtub, where the water rippled gently.

His mind felt hazy and sluggish. Yan Zhuo's voice seemed to drift near his ear once more, spoken in a teasing tone: "If A-Yan hooks his waist around mine, I'll stop."

How could his weak, exhausted legs ever manage such a thing?

Yan Zhuo had simply done it on purpose.

Qu Yan didn't even have the energy left to be angry.

With the palm of his hand pressed against the back of Qu Yan's neck, Yan Zhuo wore an expression of utter satisfaction as he coaxed, "Look at me, A-Yan."

Still half-asleep, Qu Yan was utterly obedient. He tilted his head back, plunging into Yan Zhuo's mesmerizing eyes.

The sound of the water ceased. Catching the slumbering Qu Yan, Yan Zhuo softened his breath and whispered, "I won't let you run away ever again."