I beg you, on my honor.

The spacious room was empty, with only a thin, frail youth sitting at the threshold of the inner chamber, hugging his knees. His face was expressionless as he tilted his head back, listening to the faint sounds drifting from within. His hands, clasped tightly around his legs, were knotted with tension. He bit down hard on his lower lip, leaving a vivid row of teeth marks on the delicate skin.

The brightly colored bed curtains were tied up, revealing a man sprawled naked on the bed, his limbs outstretched. His skin was whiter than snow, his features sharp, striking, and almost impossibly exquisite. Yet at this moment, his bare body was covered in violet marks from passionate kisses and swollen, crimson welts from a whip, each mark two fingers wide—his thighs bearing the worst of it.

His long, ink-black hair was strewn in disarray across the dark red brocade quilt. His lips were bloodless, marred with fine cuts. The man's brows were tightly furrowed, his upturned, phoenix-like eyes squeezed shut, long lashes trembling incessantly—a picture of both stoic strength and vulnerability.

A sharp crack rent the air as a thick leather whip lashed across his broad chest, grazing his erect nipples and leaving yet another crisscrossed brand. The man shuddered, but not a sound escaped his tightly pressed lips.

The youth toying with the whip frowned. He sat by the man’s side, pressing the whip’s handle against each wound on his body. “So beautiful,” the youth murmured in admiration, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Every mark on you is left by my hand. It’s truly beautiful.”

Beigong Juechen’s eyes suddenly opened, emerald irises as calm as a still lake. He gazed at Beigong Qiyi’s infatuated face and gave a smile tinged with pity. Beigong Qiyi’s smile faltered. He pressed the whip handle harder, his voice hoarse. “Why are you smiling? Are you mocking me? What gives you the right to mock me?”

Beigong Juechen coughed lightly, his voice scratchy. “You want to possess me? That’s nothing but a fool’s dream—delusion and fantasy,” his eyes brimming with even greater pity and ridicule. “Beigong Qiyi, what you desire, you will never obtain. You’re nothing but a coward. Even now, with my inner strength gone, you don’t dare release me, because you know that if I got the chance, I would tear you to pieces.”

Beigong Qiyi glared fiercely, his lips trembling with anger. He flung the whip aside and lunged, biting down hard on the man’s lips, still curved in that pitying smile. He licked the blood beading on them, a ghostly grin spreading across his face. “Brother, I always thought our blood ties would bind us. Though you don’t love me now, I believed you’d eventually come to feel for me. But now, it seems I was wrong.”

He gently tucked strands of hair behind Beigong Juechen’s ear, his voice soft and intimate. “Brother, you truly are cold and unfeeling. In the past, you tolerated me—not because we were brothers by blood, but because you looked down on me. You saw right through me, watched my every little move, and did nothing because you never believed I could do you harm. Isn’t that right, Brother?”

Beigong Juechen raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Indeed. I never took your little tricks seriously.”

Beigong Qiyi tilted his head and smiled, pressing kisses along the man’s brows and eyes as he whispered, “But now, Brother, you’ve fallen into my hands—because you were too arrogant. No, because you were too strong. And as the saying goes, things taken to extremes reverse their course. That’s why Qiyang could seize you then, and why I can have you now.”

Beigong Juechen frowned, silent. The youth’s words rang true: had he not been so dismissive then, he would not be at such a disadvantage now.

“Brother, do you remember at my first birthday, during the symbolic choosing ceremony, I picked up a gu box? But what I truly wanted was you.” The youth’s warm tongue traced the man’s ear, and Beigong Juechen’s eyelids flickered. He suddenly recalled the toddler shoving the gu box into his hands and clinging tightly to him.

“You actually remember that?” Beigong Juechen asked, puzzled.

Beigong Qiyi braced himself with both hands on either side of the man, lifting his body to gaze directly into those emerald eyes. “I remember everything since I was born. It was you who gave me my name. The first word I ever spoke was ‘brother.’ I remember you leaping to pick a lotus for me. I remember everything between us. But you, Brother, have forgotten it all.”

“So what if I remember?” Beigong Juechen arched a brow. “I’ve never bothered keeping track of meaningless things.”

A flash of desolation crossed Beigong Qiyi’s flawless face. “Meaningless things…” He laughed at himself. “So, all those things are meaningless to you.”

Beigong Juechen’s expression remained cold. The youth slowly rose from the bed. He too was naked. He picked up a light gold robe from the floor and draped it over his shoulders. His voice was low and somber. “Then I suppose you don’t remember how, as a child, I loved to wear white. But just because you once said, ‘You look good in yellow,’ I wore nothing but yellow ever since.”

“Brother, there’s a saying: ‘Love, we know not whence it comes, but once begun, it grows ever deeper.’ And another: ‘He who loves first, loses first.’ In this war between us, you are the victor, but I refuse to be the loser.” As he spoke, he retrieved a pill from a secret compartment at the head of the bed. “Brother, I don’t much enjoy coupling with a wooden statue, either…”

“So, you intend to give me an aphrodisiac?” Beigong Juechen’s gaze fell coldly on the pill pressed to his lips.

With a sneer, Beigong Qiyi shoved the pill into his mouth, forcing him to swallow it. He smiled softly. “Brother, I know you’ve tested poisons on yourself since childhood and that no drug affects you. But don’t forget—if Qiyang could create ‘Phoenix Prison,’ why couldn’t I devise something effective on you?”

Beigong Qiyi retreated a few steps to sit on a low couch, tying only a sash at his waist, leaving his upper and lower body exposed. He reclined with legs spread, one fine hand resting against his brow, watching the man with great interest. “Brother, this time, unless you beg me, I won’t touch you—not even a hair.”

Suddenly, a searing heat blazed from Beigong Juechen’s lower abdomen, spreading instantly through his body. His snow-white skin flushed with a vivid crimson. Beigong Qiyi’s gaze never left him. He picked up a wine jug from the sandalwood table, drinking straight from it without bothering with a cup. Wine trickled from the corner of his lips down his pale chest, glistening in the light. Beigong Qiyi’s grip tightened around the jug, his pitch-black eyes ink-dark and gleaming.

Beigong Juechen’s long, powerful legs rubbed unconsciously against the brocade quilt, his body growing more fevered, his lips strikingly red. Beigong Qiyi set the jug down and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

In the martial world, the “Hidden Pavilion” was the newly risen assassin organization—neither righteous nor evil, loyal nor treacherous. As long as the price was right, they would do business with anyone. Members of the Hidden Pavilion were elusive, their moves swift and ruthless—never leaving loose ends. And the master of the Hidden Pavilion was none other than Beigong Qiyi. How interesting, thought Qiyang, chuckling under his breath.

Rounding a bend, Qiyang saw the “Dustless Abode” just ahead. Smiling, he shook his head, only to spot a furtive figure sneaking inside. His face darkened, and he strode quickly toward the entrance.

Lingsheng gazed wide-eyed at the garden he’d stumbled upon, surprised to find such a beautiful place within the notoriously grim “Palace of a Hundred Fiends.” He knelt to admire a small flower at his feet—

“What are you doing?” The chill in the voice behind him made Lingsheng jump. He scrambled to his feet and turned around. “I…”

“Who gave you permission to enter this garden?” Qiyang’s face was cold as ice. Lingsheng shrank under his glare, mumbling, “I… I just discovered it by chance and wanted to have a look…” His long, narrow phoenix eyes were cast down. Qiyang took a deep breath, his voice frosty. “From now on, do not set foot in this garden without my leave.”

Lingsheng nodded hurriedly. Peeking up, he found the man’s gaze was not on him, but fixed on one of the two rooms in the garden, the one more secluded. Lingsheng lowered his head, hands at his sides clutching his robe tightly.

“Why are you still here? Get out,” Qiyang snapped, seeing Lingsheng unmoving. Biting his lip, Lingsheng fled in panic.

Those eyes… they’re just so alike… Qiyang thought, realizing that in this lifetime, he had been utterly defeated by that man. Yearning unfulfilled, unable to forget, like a bone stuck in the throat.

Low, repressed moans sounded from inside. The youth at the doorway jerked his head up, listening intently. His hands hugged his legs even tighter, and a cruel, mournful smile appeared on his delicate features. Slowly, he rose and walked away, step by step.

A single door between them—just like the step that forever separated them: so close, yet that was all they could ever be.

The man’s naked body was slick with sweat, black hair plastered to his cheeks, his pallid skin flushed with a seductive crimson. His lower body was arched high, and from his wounded lips spilled faint, stifled groans. His eyes remained tightly closed, sweat trickling from his lashes like tears.

Beigong Qiyi watched him with a blank expression, but if one looked closely, veins throbbed at his temple. He knew better than anyone the strength of that aphrodisiac, but the man still refused to beg. Beigong Qiyi realized that, at this rate, he himself would break first.

His whole body burned as if consumed by fire, his lower half itching unbearably for something to fill the void. His bound wrists and ankles were already rubbed raw and bleeding. Beigong Juechen clung desperately to the cords tying his hands, his arousal straining high yet unable to find release. Slowly, he forced his eyes open, turning to look at the youth lounging on the couch.

Their gazes met, and Beigong Qiyi’s mouth curled into a slow smile. He knew—the man had finally yielded. He rose with the wine jug, approaching the bed. The man’s lips parted with ragged breaths. Beigong Qiyi’s narrow, beautiful eyes roved over his body, then he lifted the man’s long legs and pressed the mouth of the jug—cold and slender—into the part of him that was now slick with crystalline fluid.

The icy jug slid deep inside, making Beigong Juechen shudder as the chill liquid was poured within him. The cold wine meeting his fevered flesh only intensified the torment, turning the itching into an agony. Beigong Juechen looked at Beigong Qiyi, gasping, “Are you… going to do it or not…”

Pouring the last of the wine into him, Beigong Qiyi tossed the jug aside. “I told you, unless you beg me, I won’t touch you.” Beigong Juechen’s eyes were squeezed shut, panting. The bindings on his hands had been removed. He gripped the youth’s wrist tightly. “Beigong Qiyi, I command you…”

“Command me what?” Beigong Qiyi interrupted, “Command me to take you now? Brother, is that the attitude of someone who’s begging?” The cold wine was now blazing inside, the itch in his body maddening. Meeting the youth’s teasing gaze, Beigong Juechen said slowly, “I beg you.”

Beigong Qiyi’s already dark eyes grew even deeper. He lifted the man’s legs onto his shoulders and, with a flick of his robe, thrust heavily inside. His thick length entered in one stroke to the deepest place, and together they both let out a long moan. Beigong Qiyi gripped the man’s lean waist, pulling almost all the way out before slamming in again, harder and harder.

Beigong Juechen’s hands clawed at the brocade beneath him, tearing through the strong fabric. Beigong Qiyi bent down to kiss his lips, and Beigong Juechen bit back fiercely, tongues clashing in a battle for dominance.

The thrusts grew ever more violent, a faint red glimmering in the youth’s eyes like a burning fire. The man’s legs clung tightly to his shoulders, his hips rocking with every movement.

If resistance was futile, then he would simply let himself feel it all.

Beigong Qiyi shifted his angle again and again, watching the man’s expressions. When his brows furrowed in pleasure, the youth’s lips quirked in satisfaction. Then, like a storm, the pounding grew wild and urgent, overwhelming pleasure forcing the man to cry out at last. He arched up, arms locking around the youth’s back, and finally, his arousal found release.

Beigong Qiyi’s eyes were bloodshot as he watched the man beneath him, each thrust as if to split him apart. Beigong Juechen lay panting, the youth biting down hard on his sensitive nipple, groaning as he spilled all his hot essence deep into that burning, pliant place.

[Author’s note: A friend said that brazenly asking for long reviews would bring in lovely readers. So, this shameless top is here to ask for long reviews… For the sake of all the explicit scenes I’ve risked, is there any kind soul willing to leave a long comment? The little pervert finally forced his brother to beg! Update at 10:30—don’t be shy to leave your thoughts!]