Jing Feirong entered the Lingxiao Palace holding Chu Yanchuan’s hand. The Fifth Prince was confused because of his temper. Dijun was someone who never cared about other people’s expressions. Jing Feiyun followed behind them and was stunned.
Chu Yanchuan had the highest status in the hall, so he stood at the head of all the deities. Jing Feirong had no right to stand in the front, so he had to reluctantly move back a little with Jing Feiyun, constantly stretching his neck to look for his Dijun.
After an early morning court session, Jing Feirong was confused and had no idea what he had reported on. He only remembered that when he returned to his seat after reporting on his duties, he accidentally exchanged glances with Chu Yanchuan, which caused him to almost step on the foot of a certain deity.
After the deities dispersed, Jing Feirong was excited and about to go look for Dijun, but he saw Dijun walking towards the study with his father.
His Highness the Fifth Prince clenched his fists.
Jing Feirong returned to his bedchamber to change clothes, chewing candied fruit while writing a memorial. His mind was distracted, and he kept looking at the study door. But even after looking for a long time, the words he wrote were crooked, the candied fruit became less and less flavorful, and there was still no sign of Dijun.
Will Dijun attend the court meeting and then go into meditation without saying a word again?
Thinking of this, Jing Feirong immediately stood up and ran towards the bedroom door. As soon as he opened the door, he bumped into Chu Yanchuan, who was about to push the door open.
Chu Yanchuan was stunned for a moment, then withdrew his hand, “Your Highness.”
Jing Feirong stared at him blankly. It had only been two months since they last met, but he felt that it was longer than the seven thousand years he had lived before. He knew that he missed Chu Yanchuan, but it seemed that until this moment, when Dijun really stood in front of him, Jing Feirong had completely tasted the taste of missing him.
Dijun knows too well how harming someone can ruin their life.
Chu Yanchuan saw Jing Feirong crying—his peach blossom eyes were stunned for a moment, then turned moist and red, and then tears rolled out of his eyes. Everything happened very quickly, and when Chu Yanchuan reached out to touch Jing Feirong’s face, Jing Feirong was already sobbing.
“What’s wrong, Your Highness?” Chu Yanchuan used both hands to wipe away Jing Feirong’s tears and asked him softly, “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Jing Feirong shook his head, but was too embarrassed to say that he was crying because he missed Dijun too much, so he pulled at his sleeves and said, “Wuwuwu… I… I was injured in the Demon Realm last night… wuwu…”
He was indeed injured, and there are some wounds on his body, but the wounds were very small, which would not be worth mentioning under normal circumstances, but now it was definitely more than enough to show his pity in front of Dijun.
Chu Yanchuan lowered his head to look at the wound on his wrist for a long time. Finally, he raised his head and said, “Your Highness, it’s too late.”
Jing Feirong sobbed and looked at him with red eyes.
Chu Yanchuan said, “Your wound has healed on its own.”
“……” Jing Feirong’s face was a little embarrassed. He held it in for a while before sobbing and saying, “There are also a lot of them on my body.”
Chu Yanchuan nodded. “Let’s go back to the room, I’ll help Your Highness check.”
Chu Yanchuan led the crying Jing Feirong to the bedside and took him to sit down. Although Jing Feirong was crying, his eyes never left Chu Yanchuan’s face. He felt that Dijun seemed to have changed—
It made him like him more.
Jing Feirong took off his clothes, revealing some minor wounds. Chu Yanchuan did not mind the small size of the wounds, nor did he mind that the Fifth Prince was delicate, and he patiently treated them one by one. Finally, his fingertips moved down and gently pressed on Jing Feirong’s xx through his pants.
Jing Feirong’s face instantly turned red, and his peach blossom eyes widened—why is Dijun becoming more and more direct?
Chu Yanchuan looked up at him and said, “Your Highness is indeed… young.”
He can even get hard when he cries.
Jing Feirong understood and felt shy. When he was nervous, his oral desire was aroused, and he wanted to put something in his mouth. But there was no candied fruit, and it was not easy to suck the pacifier in front of Dijun. He could only bite his finger, and with red eyes, he mumbled for a while before saying, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think about that all the time…”
He really didn’t think about it. Jing Feirong didn’t know why he reacted out of the blue. It might be because Dijun touched and healed his wounds, which stimulated him. Jing Feirong himself didn’t even notice it.
“I don’t mean to say anything bad about Your Highness.” Chu Yanchuan said.
When Jing Feirong held his finger in his mouth, some saliva got in the corner of his mouth. Chu Yanchuan reached out and wiped it off for him.
Dijun’s hands were very good-looking, long, and beautiful, with slender fingertips and a faint, cold fragrance. Jing Feirong pursed his lips, looked at Chu Yanchuan innocently, then opened his mouth and took Dijun’s finger in.
Chu Yanchuan’s expression did not change, he just looked at Jing Feirong, stirring his finger in his mouth, pressing his soft tongue tip, and rubbing it back and forth with his fingertip. The sound of water was sticky and ambiguous.
Jing Feirong looked at him, then gently bit Chu Yanchuan’s fingertips, wrapped his tongue around them, and sucked Dijun’s fingers like he was sucking milk, making a slight sucking sound.
“Um…”
Jing Feirong mumbled in dissatisfaction because Chu Yanchuan seemed to be about to pull his finger out, but he couldn’t stop his oral desire and kept holding on to them like a dog.
Chu Yanchuan pulled his hand back, and he moved closer to Chu Yanchuan, refusing to let go. Finally, their noses were touching each other. Chu Yanchuan stared at him for a moment and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.
Jing Feirong was stunned and relaxed for a moment. This seemed to be the first time that Dijun took the initiative to kiss him.
Chu Yanchuan pulled out his wet finger that had been sucked red and rubbed it on Jing Feirong’s equally wet and red lips. Then he said, “If Your Highness wants to suck milk, there are better options, right?”
Jing Feirong could no longer tell whether Dijun was speaking explicitly or implicitly, and the whole dragon was stunned.
He was panting, his head seemed empty, but his chest was full and swollen, and his heart was beating very fast, which might be a sign of going crazy.
He fiercely bit Chu Yanchuan’s lips, tore off his waist belt, and threw it under the bed, then pushed him back onto the couch.
Jing Feirong felt that he was somewhat out of control. Dijun seemed to have lost his restraint today. He cried out when it hurt, when it was comfortable, and when he couldn’t bear it any longer. His voice contained some suppressed crying and panting, which was indescribably beautiful.
Jing Feirong remembered that he had once told the sacred tree that Dijun didn’t like to make any noise in bed. He now felt that the sacred tree might be a wishing tree, and his wish had come true.
From morning until dusk, their voices became hoarse—Chu Yanchuan became hoarse from calling, and Jing Feirong became hoarse from crying.
After it was over, neither of them wanted to move. Jing Feirong held Chu Yanchuan’s waist with one hand, put Dijun’s n*pple in his mouth, closed his eyes contentedly, and sucked them from time to time.
The ends of Chu Yanchuan’s hair were still tangled in the fingers of his other hand, and he was touching and curling it comfortably with his fingers, feeling so happy that he couldn’t tell the difference between the person and the dragon.
Chu Yanchuan felt his chest was numb, and he could only feel a slight pain when the Fifth Prince sucked his n*pples.
He looked at the person in his arms, a furry head was clinging to him lingeringly, his mouth and hands unwilling to let go, playing with his hair carefreely, like a puppy that had not yet been weaned.
But if there is something to be nostalgic about, how can the scenery not accommodate one person?
After a long while, Chu Yanchuan spoke in a hoarse voice, “Your Highness.”
Jing Feirong let go of the Emperor’s n*pple that had been sucked and bitten until it was red and swollen and raised his head.
“En?”
His eyes were red and bright, and he looked over at him seriously. The two looked at each other quietly in the warm yellow afterglow in the room. They were very close, but Chu Yanchuan’s eyes seemed very far away. His beautiful eyes were a little deep, as if thousands of years had been in them. Jing Feirong looked at him and felt as if he was wrapped up in Chu Yanchuan’s gaze and was drawn into those long and distant years—he really wanted to fall in and take a look at Dijun’s past.
The room was filled with afterglow, and the evening breeze was blowing gently. The two looked at each other for a long time and then spoke at the same time—
“Dijun, I really like you.”
“Your Highness, let’s get a divorce.”
The author has something to say: His Highness the Fifth Prince: Today is Chinese Valentine’s Day, and my wife asked me for a divorce.
