Chapter 47: Bound Together as Husband and Wife

The lingering scent in the air dispelled the traces of staleness that had filled the chamber. Beigong Qiyi gazed unwaveringly at the man asleep beside him, his narrow phoenix eyes brimming with tenderness. With his strength sealed away, the man's exhaustion was laid bare across his features. The youth reached out gently, smoothing the deep furrows between the man's brows, replacing them with a soft kiss. Nestling against the man's shoulder, eyes closed, a smile curled at his lips as he breathed in deeply, savoring the faint, elusive cool fragrance that clung to the man. Satisfied, he rubbed his cheek lightly against the shoulder.

After a while, the youth could not resist opening his eyes again. The man's long, slanting brows had gathered into another frown, his lips pressed tightly together. "Even asleep, you keep everyone at arm's length..." Beigong Qiyi murmured, reaching out to hold the man tightly. "Big brother, I truly love you."

Beigong Juechen lay deeply asleep, eyes shut fast. The youth watched him with a gaze as entranced and greedy as a tongue tasting the sculpted, flawless beauty of his face. "The first person I saw when I was born was you. The name I bear in this life was given by you. The first word I ever spoke was 'brother.' I always believed myself to be a selfish, loveless person—only to find, I am selfish in my love for you."

He spoke as if to the sleeping man and as if to himself. "As the ancients said: 'Love does not know from where it arises, but once it begins, it grows deep.' Big brother, perhaps I was born in this life for you alone. You are my sole obsession through two lifetimes, weighing on my heart for sixteen years—too deep, I cannot let go." The youth traced the man's brows and eyes with gentle fingers; his voice was light and soft, but his eyes were shadowed. "Big brother, whatever I desire, I will stop at nothing to obtain it. You cannot escape..."

The sleeping man's brow twitched, as if caught in a nightmare. Beigong Qiyi buried his face in the man’s arms. After a long moment, he lifted his head, a half-smile twisting on his lips, his voice low and uncanny. "Big brother, whether in heaven or hell, I am selfish by nature, and now a ghost returned from the underworld. We are fated to be entangled in this life—never to die, never to rest! If I cannot escape this obsession, I will never let you escape either."

The man’s brows furrowed even deeper, his lips quivered, and suddenly he opened his eyes. Beigong Qiyi, seeing him awake, smiled lightly. "Big brother, do you feel well?" Beigong Juechen closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the haze of sleep was gone without a trace. "Why are you still here?"

Beigong Qiyi pouted, feigning grievance. "I do not wish to leave you, big brother." Though his expression was a pose, the arms wrapped around the man’s waist only tightened. "There is nothing pressing in the manor; I wish to spend more time with you." Beigong Juechen cast him a cool glance, saw the youth had no intention of leaving, and said nothing more.

Trapped as he was, he had to soften his stance in many matters. In any case, Beigong Qiyi would not harm him, so if he wished to stay, let him stay.

Beigong Qiyi, sensing the man’s attitude had softened, felt a surge of joy. His gaze grew ever gentler. Under the youth’s ardent stare, even Beigong Juechen grew slightly uneasy. He pushed the youth aside, speaking in a low voice: "Do not look at me with those eyes."

But Beigong Qiyi made no effort to restrain himself. Beigong Juechen simply turned his back, ignoring him. As he moved, their hair, entwined together, was tugged. Beigong Qiyi took up the tightly knotted strands, murmuring, "Bound hair for husband and wife, love without doubt..."

Beigong Juechen’s expression darkened. He snatched the hair from Beigong Qiyi’s hand, but the entwined strands did not separate. Beigong Qiyi held down the man's rough hand, speaking low: "Big brother, the more you force things, the more they backfire." As he spoke, he gently combed through the hair, and at last the two locks separated, each returning to its owner.

Beigong Juechen fixed his gaze upon him. After a moment, he said with a half-smile, "You are right—the more you force things, the more they backfire." His words carried a deeper meaning, and Beigong Qiyi understood it well. His lips pressed tight, his face clouded and uncertain. Suddenly, he smiled and shook his head. "Big brother, if I do not force you, I will not win you even if I spend my entire life."

All he received in reply was the man’s cold, indifferent back.

Behind him, the youth absentmindedly played with the long hair that had come loose. His skin was whiter than snow, his beauty captivating; the vermillion birthmark between his brows was striking and exquisite, his elegance unmatched.

Big brother, I will find a way to make you love me... The youth clenched a strand of long hair in his hand, his smile ghostly.

※※※

Though the afternoon sun shone bright, the room was shrouded in gloom. Suppressing the tumult of true energy within, the man exhaled deeply, opened his eyes, and asked, "How is the situation at Li Manor?"

"You really want to know about Li Manor, or about that person?" The youth’s voice sounded quietly from the darkness. The room was dim, and the youth hid himself in an even darker corner, his figure invisible.

The man unfolded his legs and let them fall naturally to the floor. He glanced toward the spot where the youth spoke and said calmly, "You may tell me about him first, then about Li Manor." Once he finished speaking, the room fell silent. After a while, the youth responded in a low voice: "The Master of Beigong Manor is unwell; Li Manor is temporarily managed by the Young Master of Beigong."

The man laughed coldly. "I do not want the lies known to everyone in the martial world. What I want is the truth you saw with your own eyes." In the darkness, the youth seemed to sneer. "Are you sure you want to hear?"

The man's expression shifted. His gaze, sharp as an eagle’s, pierced the darkness toward the youth’s location. His voice was deep: "Speak." The youth stepped from the shadows, coming to the man’s side. His face was hidden within a black hood. The corners of his lips curved up in mocking derision. "The truth is, Qi Yong, the one you desire was pressed beneath someone else; the things you wished to do to him were done first by another. Are you satisfied?"

With a crash, the wooden table beside him was shattered by the man’s palm. Qi Yong’s face was dark, his gaze sharp as a blade, teeth clenched, every fiber of him taut as a weapon ready to strike, awaiting that final snap.

The youth’s face, hidden by the hood, seemed to smile. He bent close to the man’s ear, his voice low and steady. "You want that person, do you not? He is now powerless. Go and take him for yourself!"

Qi Yong’s eyes narrowed, as if bewitched. Yet after a moment, he regained clarity, casting a half-smile at the youth. "You have followed Beigong Qiyi for five years now. Five years of daily companionship are enough to make anyone fall for someone."

The youth’s face was hidden, unreadable. Qi Yong patted his shoulder slowly. "You want me to take Beigong Juechen away—surely there is another reason behind it. Do not forget, Beigong Qiyi is the brother of your father's killer."

The youth trembled. He turned his head aside and spoke in a low voice: "I remember well who killed my father. Precisely because I remember, I want you to take him—so neither Beigong Qiyi nor Beigong Juechen will have peace."

Qi Yong tilted his head, half-smiling. "In a way, I am half your father. I know what you think, but..." He grasped the youth’s shoulders, bending slightly to look him in the eye. "You must realize, Beigong Qiyi is not the one for you. I do not wish to see you destroy yourself."

The youth raised his head, revealing a half of his delicate profile. "I understand," he replied softly, then tightened his hood and turned to leave. His slender figure was stretched long by the sunlight, frail as if a gust of wind could topple him. He closed the door slowly, and as it shut, Qi Yong saw the youth lift his head from within the hood, his eyes bright and sharp as ice.

Qi Yong’s brows twitched. He rubbed his forehead and laughed quietly to himself. Truly, he is that man’s son...

A dim yellow candle slowly flickered to life in the gloomy room. Qi Yong set the lamp on the table, where a painting lay spread. In the painting, a figure lounged languidly on a soft couch—beautiful and proud. It was the same painting Qi Yong had brought to Beigong Qiyi’s birthday feast, and the figure depicted was Beigong Juechen.

Qi Yong carefully stroked the painted brows and eyes, murmuring, "Beauty beneath the lamp..." Yet in the next instant, the longing faded from his face. His gaze drifted to a spot in the room, coldness gathering.

So you got ahead of me by one step. Sooner or later, I will reclaim that step.

But one step late—late in every step...

"Where have you been?" Beigong Qiyi blew gently on the steam rising from his teacup, took a small sip, and looked at Ximo, who stood at the door with his head bowed, awkward and anxious.

"I... I didn't go anywhere," Ximo stammered.

Beigong Qiyi sipped his tea and cast him a bland glance. "You saw everything that happened last night?"

Ximo lowered his head even further, his face flushed, and after a moment he nodded with embarrassment. Beigong Qiyi set down his cup and beckoned him over. "Come here." Ximo shuffled slowly closer. Beigong Qiyi impatiently pulled him to his side, startling Ximo, who instinctively tried to push the youth’s hand away.

"What are you afraid of?" Beigong Qiyi said with a half-smile. "I won't eat you." Ximo pursed his lips and whispered, "Please don't tease me, young master."

Beigong Qiyi snorted in amusement, then scolded in a low voice, "Just pretend you saw nothing last night. Keep it buried in your stomach, understood?"

Startled, Ximo glanced at the youth. The youth’s expression was calm, betraying no anger. Ximo bit his lip, eyes reddening, and nodded, "I understand."

Only then did Beigong Qiyi smile in satisfaction, releasing him and turning toward the inner chamber.

Ximo watched the youth’s retreating figure, the panic fading from his face. He wiped away a stray tear from the corner of his eye, and lowered his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips.