68 Weakness

Beigong Qiyi decisively lifted the man into his arms and carried him to the bedside. He was still tightly sheathed inside the man, each step causing him to slide in and out, deeper and shallower. Beigong Juechen’s brows were furrowed, as if he found this position unbearably humiliating. Yet the youth gripped firmly at the root of his thigh, refusing to let him escape.

[Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah—Now let us speak of when Lin Daiyu first came to the Rong Mansion. From the start, Grandmother Jia lavished affection on her; her daily life was cared for no differently than with Baoyu, Yingchun, Tanchun, and Xichun, her three granddaughters, who were instead placed second. The intimacy and fondness between Baoyu and Daiyu were unlike that with others. By day, they were always together; by night, they shared the same couch. Their thoughts and words were in perfect harmony, with never a discordant note. Yet unexpectedly, Xue Baochai arrived. Although only slightly older, her character was upright and her beauty radiant, and many claimed Daiyu could not compare. Baochai was open-hearted and adapted with ease to the times, unlike Daiyu, who held herself aloof and above the dust of the world. Therefore, Baochai won the hearts of the servants more readily than Daiyu. Even the little maids preferred to play with Baochai. Thus, Daiyu felt a quiet resentment, though Baochai remained oblivious. Baoyu, still a child, followed his nature—simple and a bit eccentric—regarding siblings and cousins without distinction. Because he shared Grandmother Jia’s rooms with Daiyu, he was naturally closer to her, and such intimacy sometimes led to quarrels. One day, for reasons unknown, a disagreement arose; Daiyu, hurt, wept alone, while Baoyu, regretting his words, went to make amends. Daiyu was slow to forgive, but eventually relented. Meanwhile, in the Ning Mansion’s garden, the plum blossoms were in full bloom. Lady You, wife of Jia Zhen, arranged a banquet, inviting Grandmother Jia, Lady Xing, Lady Wang, and others to admire the flowers. That morning, she and Jia Rong’s wife came to extend the invitation. After breakfast, Grandmother Jia and her party went to Huifang Garden, where they played and drank tea and wine. It was a small family gathering for the women of the Ning and Rong Mansions, without any notable amusements or tales.] Her forehead was pale yellow. She drifted among the flowers, equally lovely in anger or in joy, pacing by the pond—so graceful, almost as if she would take flight. Her brows arched in laughter or in sorrow, her words on the verge of utterance, her lotus steps tentative, pausing as if to advance or retreat. How enviable her pure and jade-like beauty, her resplendent attire shining with literary grace. How captivating her countenance—

—Because he saw the youth’s jet-black phoenix eyes rimmed with a crimson like fresh blood.

Beigong Juechen closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the red in the youth’s gaze had only deepened. His expression darkened, and, seizing the moment when the youth withdrew, he swiftly kicked him aside. Beigong Qiyi’s expression turned even colder, his eyes aflame as he glared at Beigong Juechen—a lion robbed of its mate. Beigong Juechen pinned him to the bed, holding his wrists down, slapping his cheek and growling, “Wake up.”

The black and white stones on the chessboard were scattered in disarray, as if there was no path left—already a dead game.

Qi Yong’s thick brows knitted together; he was beset by a sense of foreboding. He glanced at the tangled chess pieces on the board, irritably tossed the black stone in his hand back into the box. Just then, a youth in a deep purple cloak pushed the door open, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

Qi Yong looked at the youth who entered, rubbing his brow and speaking with a trace of agitation, “I don’t know. Tonight I have this sudden feeling of unrest, as if something is about to happen.” The youth removed his cloak and set it aside, chuckling, “Since when did you develop a woman’s sixth sense? In fact, something is about to happen.”

“Oh?” Qi Yong arched an eyebrow. “What is it?” The youth went to sit opposite him, studying the deadlocked chessboard and laughing, “Your skill has improved. Even playing against yourself, you can corner yourself into a dead game.” Qi Yong shot him a look, urging, “So what’s going on?”

The youth dropped his gaze, seriously studying the chessboard, remaining silent. Though Qi Yong’s heart was anxious, he forced himself to calm down, frowning as he watched. After a long pause, the youth picked up a black stone and placed it carefully. The seemingly hopeless game suddenly cleared; a way out appeared. The youth clapped his hands and smiled, “Some things, at first glance, seem to have no solution, but if you look closely and consider every possibility, there’s always a move that will break the impasse.”

Qi Yong’s brow furrowed deeper, impatience in his nod. The youth, seeing this, sneered, “The moment it concerns him, you lose all composure. I recall someone once telling me that people like us must never have weaknesses. Even if we do, we must never let them be discovered, for that is where we are most vulnerable. Qi Yong, you’ve forgotten your own advice.”

“He is not my weakness,” Qi Yong shook his head, “but he is where I am most exposed.” How could he be a weakness? It is because of him that I have become so fierce, cruel, and invincible. He is not my weakness, but he is the blade that hangs perpetually above my head—so beautiful, yet each stroke threatens my very life.

The youth smiled ambiguously before continuing, “Today, someone told me that the operation will take place tomorrow. I agreed with her not to interfere with each other—it’s just a matter of who finds him first.” He raised his eyes and whispered, “I have a good idea of whom he’ll seek out after leaving the manor, but I don’t know where that person is.”

“What time tomorrow?” Qi Yong asked. The youth shook his head, frowning, “She didn’t say. Only that when the time comes, she’ll distract Beigong Qiyi, and I will be responsible for getting Beigong Juechen out.”

Qi Yong was silent for a moment, then nodded, “Understood.” Seeing him calm again, the youth advised, “The security around and inside Li Manor is tight. If you send anyone in advance, you might ruin everything.” Qi Yong lowered his gaze to the now promising chessboard and asked in a low voice, “You said you know who he’ll seek—who is it?”

The youth replied softly, “Fu Zhi. Do you know him?” As he cleared the white stones from beside the black ones, Qi Yong nodded slowly, “I understand. Just inform me before the operation; I’ll handle the rest.”

The youth nodded, stood up, and donned his cloak again. “Very well, I’ll take my leave.” Qi Yong murmured a faint assent. The youth looked at him silently, tugged his hood low, and turned to go.

A candle in the corner flickered and finally went out. The white stones on the chessboard dwindled—defeat was certain. Qi Yong indifferently tossed his stones into the box and began to laugh quietly.

This round, you may have won, but victory and defeat are common to all warriors. Who will prevail in the next match? The outcome is far from settled...

The cold wind urged the night on; candlelight burned red and bright.

In the empty room, low, hoarse moans echoed intermittently. On the gleaming marble floor, pale yellow and deep green entwined. The brocade curtains swayed gently, revealing a glimpse of unrestrained passion.

A man knelt on the bed, his hands tied above his head to the headboard, his naked body covered in bruises and crimson marks of varying size. Behind him, a youth gripped his long hair, thrusting forcefully. The man was forced to arch his neck, exposing a face of rare beauty, yet utterly lacking in softness.

His perfectly sculpted shoulder blades protruded slightly, rising and falling with each of the youth’s thrusts, reminiscent of a butterfly’s fluttering wings. The youth bent low, pressing hot kisses down the man’s bare spine. “Big brother, you’re so beautiful. I truly want to fuck you to death, right here.”

Beigong Juechen’s brows were locked in a frigid scowl, his bearing exuding a chilling authority. He had no time for the youth’s provocative words—he could only relax his body as much as possible to lessen the discomfort. Beigong Qiyi’s hands kneaded his buttocks shamelessly; it seemed that even with his thick shaft buried deep inside, he managed to slip in another finger.

“Ah—” Beigong Juechen moaned in a low voice, eyes squeezed shut, gasping for breath. Beigong Qiyi paused his movements, instead curling a finger inside the man’s passage, probing. A bead of cold sweat rolled from the man’s brow to his trembling lashes, resembling a tear.

With a rough yank, Beigong Qiyi forced Beigong Juechen to face him, studying the drop of sweat on those long lashes. He smiled slyly, “I truly want to see what you look like when you cry, big brother. I bet you’d be beautiful...” He gently wiped away the tear-like sweat, but his hips snapped forward with malicious intent.

As the thrust drove both his shaft and finger against the sensitive spot inside, Beigong Juechen’s body shuddered, his breath ragged. “Mmm... I’ll make sure... before me... you’ll be the first to cry...” His words dissolved into a pained moan. Beigong Qiyi, eyes narrowed, rammed in with abandon. Blood trickled from where they joined, only making his movements easier.

With his free hand, he slapped the man’s ass hard, leaving a swollen, red handprint. Beigong Qiyi gripped his hair and thrusted relentlessly, sneering, “Even now you refuse to yield, big brother? But that only makes me want to destroy you even more...” Slowly, he withdrew his blood-stained fingers, grinning wickedly. “Big brother, I truly want to die inside you.”

He flipped Beigong Juechen over, seating him astride his lap. The man’s hands were still tied to the headboard, arms awkwardly twisted. Beigong Qiyi supported his waist, driving up from below, his other hand kneading a dusky-pink nipple.

Beigong Juechen’s hair tumbled over his shoulders, blood beading on his red lips. His eyes—deep green, brimming with murderous intent—locked onto the youth beneath him.

He was the master of Li Manor, a man revered by all the martial world, one whom even the emperor must respect. He could be pinned and toyed with by his own younger brother, but his dignity allowed not a single stain. Han Xin once suffered humiliation, Wu Zixu fled through the grass for survival, returning three years later to avenge his king. King Goujian of Yue endured hardship, ultimately conquering Wu. He, too, could endure humiliation for now, but when he broke free, his revenge would be a hundredfold.

A flash of melancholy crossed the blood-rimmed eyes of Beigong Qiyi. He sighed so softly it was barely audible, then seized Beigong Juechen’s neck, capturing his lips in a kiss, while his thrusts grew even more violent.

Big brother, if you hold no place for me in your heart, then I will mark every inch of your body with my presence.

Author’s note: The World Cup has started and I really have no motivation to write... t t 166 Reading Network