The mountain path was rugged, and Feng Lingjun’s steps wavered as he stumbled forward unsteadily. He was tormented to the extreme by that immoral aphrodisiac, his body burning from head to toe, and a certain area below felt indescribably uncomfortable—sometimes painful, sometimes itchy, with a tingling numbness and an unusual dampness.
As the sun gradually set in the west, he had lost track of how long he had been walking or where he had ended up. The narrow mountain path suddenly widened, revealing a clearing ahead, where a thatched cottage stood. Feng Lingjun focused his gaze and noticed that the cottage was surrounded by a fence, with a long pathway leading to the entrance. On either side of the path, fields had been cultivated, growing crops. It seemed someone was living here in seclusion.
Feng Lingjun was somewhat surprised, but couldn’t think too much about it. He was suffering greatly and was very thirsty, eager to ask for some water to drink. If he could take a cold bath there, that would be even better.
His legs felt weak, and he staggered forward for a while. At that moment, the effects of Hundred Days Red had fully set in. His vision blurred, he was parched with desire, unable to muster even a fraction of his profound martial arts.
Feng Lingjun regretted it. He should have returned with Wang Zizhao. Perhaps Wang Zizhao would have had a way to help him, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, lost in this remote wilderness. If danger arose…
But he simply couldn’t bring himself to ask for help.
If Wang Zizhao also had no solution, and he still would’ve had to find a male dog—no, a man—then he might as well crash into something and die right here in this desolate wilderness, where no one would know or care, at least preserving his dignity.
Feng Lingjun was lost in a flurry of thoughts, but his feet didn’t stop; he continued straight towards the thatched cottage.
He pushed open the fence gate and walked into the yard, arriving under the eaves, where he came face to face with some cured meat hanging from the rafters.
Feng Lingjun was already in a daze; that string of cured meat swayed in the wind, and his eyes followed it left and right. After a moment, he felt even more dizzy, his whole body weakly crashing towards the wooden door.
With a creak, the door opened and someone stepped out, reaching out to support his staggering body.
Feng Lingjun raised his eyes and asked with a dry throat, “…Who are you?”
Through the hazy mist in front of him, he could only see a blurred figure—a man, tall, with long hair tied up in a somewhat disheveled manner. He was unable to discern his facial features.
The man heard his question and snorted coldly, “You come to my doorstep and ask me who I am?”
“……”
The voice was of a young man, sounding both youthful and adolescent, with a tone that was not very polite, yet the voice was like the sound of a spring water thawing in the warmth of spring, clear and pleasant to the ear.
Feng Lingjun was used to the rough voice of Wang Zizhao, so how could he have ever enjoyed something like this before? Even the courtesans in brothels didn’t sound as enchanting.
Feng Lingjun was momentarily taken aback, and before he could think too much, he was captivated by Hundred Days Red and lunged uncontrollably into the other person’s embrace. The other person was tall, and so was Feng Lingjun; this embrace couldn’t be one of a delicate bird leaning on its mate. After all, a man was still a man, and he felt a deep-seated resistance in his heart.
Yet while his mind had one thought, his body had another. He was like a cat in heat, rubbing against that person with a sticky eagerness. He caught a whiff of a scent that ignited his desire, and his whole body felt like it was on fire, desperately needing a good rain after a long drought to relieve his current situation.
Feng Lingjun compromised and consoled himself, “So what if it’s a man; what’s the big deal? Besides, in this remote wilderness, he’s probably not a martial artist but rather a mountain woodcutter with no place to spill secrets, so he naturally won’t tarnish my reputation.”
Once there is a lapse in willpower, the body becomes even harder to control. Feng Lingjun threw away the sword in his hand, wrapped his arms around the person’s waist, rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, and slightly tilted his head, planting a scorching kiss on the person’s collar.
The cloth was coarse.
Feng Lingjun was used to mingling with soft jade and fragrant silk, so when he unexpectedly touched a piece of rough fabric, he immediately felt a chill. The other person, however, reacted even more strongly, as if startled, and pushed him away angrily, “What are you doing!”
“……”
Feng Lingjun had no energy to speak nonsense with him, what was he doing? Of course he was doing that kind of thing, surely the other person hasn’t never done it before?
“Help me out,” Feng Lingjun said, “Jianghu1江湖 (jiānghú) – literally translates as “Rivers and Lakes”, but figuratively refers to the “Martial World”. emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” the man scrutinized him suspiciously.
Feng Lingjun suppressed his impatience and blinked hard to clear the mist in his eyes. He leaned in closer and finally got a clear look at that face.
With thick brows and deep-set eyes, red lips and white teeth, it was truly a beautiful sight.
Feng Lingjun let out a sigh, feeling a bit better in his heart. It was inconvenient for him to explain the situation, nor did he have the patience for it. The desire had been boiling in his chest for a long time, igniting his insides, leaving his mind completely clouded.
He could no longer hold back; he pushed the person against the doorframe, leaned in, and captured their lips with his.
It was simply coercive and dominant.
Feng Lingjun is charming and suave, how could he ever do something so lowly? Yet, when he thinks about the fact that the other party is a man, his shame dissipates by more than half—what’s there to be ashamed of? He’s had enough bad luck already.
“You smell very fragrant.” Feng Lingjun followed his body’s instincts, kissing deeply and messily.
After all, he was a skilled practitioner, much more assertive than this ordinary man who had no martial arts skills at all. The other party seemed either stunned by his reckless actions or simply unable to push him away, allowing him to be so forward for quite a while.
Feng Lingjun sniffed again, “Where is that fragrance coming from?”
It wasn’t the familiar scent of rouge; rather, it resembled some kind of herbal aroma, fresh and faint. He was enchanted. As if addicted, he leaned in closer, wanting to kiss deeper and discover the source of the scent.
The man was firmly pinned against the door frame, his body stiff, his eyes glaring fiercely at him, yet his face was flushed.
Feng Lingjun didn’t pay attention to these details; he was burning up, hot sweat soaking his clothes, an itch rising from his lower body straight to his lungs, with no way to relieve it. He frowned, yanked off his belt, and stripped off his clothes.
After removing his own clothes, he went to remove the other party’s clothes.
“What are you doing?!” Though the person was not a woman, they were even more embarrassed and angry than a woman, tightly clutching their clothing, not allowing Feng Lingjun to touch them, hesitating as they asked, “Are you even human..?”
“……”
Huh? If I’m not humane, then so be it; Feng Lingjun didn’t mind being scolded. Unexpectedly, the person wasn’t scolding him at all. With a look of surprise, they suddenly reached out to pinch his face, then touched his ears and fingers.
Feng Lingjun was puzzled. The person cautiously asked, “Are you the fox spirit of Wangchun Mountain?”
“…Fox spirit?” Feng Lingjun was taken aback, then laughed, “You think I’m a fox spirit?” His whole body was flushed with an unusual redness, his handsome face was as red as a cherry, and his narrow and long eyes shimmered like green waves, which indeed made him exactly like a fox spirit.
But he understood that the person was not joking with him, it was a genuine question. The person looked dazed, with an innocence in his eyes that suggested he was unaware of the world’s affairs, and there was a hint of uncertainty, likely mistaking him for a mythical fox from local legends.
Sure enough, the person continued, “I have never encountered outsiders before. How did you find me? Are you really human or not?”
“Of course not.” Feng Lingjun followed along and fabricated, “I transformed into human form to steal your vital energy.” His voice was deep and hoarse, accompanied by the chilling evening breeze in the forest after the sun had set, adding an eerie atmosphere.
The man was half-convinced and cautiously took a step back. Feng Lingjun grabbed him, leaned sideways into the door, and they both entered the room. The man still wanted to struggle, but Feng Lingjun pressed down on his shoulder, lowered his head, and with his teeth tightly pressed against the man’s throat, said in a tone that was half-joking, half-threatening, “Don’t move, or I’ll..”
“W-what are you going to do?”
“..Bite you.”
The voice, filled with desire, drilled into his ears, causing the person to shudder, their body growing even stiffer. Feng Lingjun wanted to kiss him, but before the kiss could land, he felt something suddenly push up from below, hard and pressing against his thigh.
