In the dim underground cave,
“Where does it hurt?”
As the other spoke, Yan Qing’an felt increasingly distressed and at a loss, and his tone softened in response.
He could sense He Heng’s hand on him tightening, rendering him almost immobile.
Ordinarily, people would instinctively resist in such a situation, but at this moment, Yan Qing’an shed all defenses. He, like a soft, yielding kitten, retracted all his claws, allowing the other to take further liberties.
He was led by He Heng, gradually retreating until his back pressed against the cool wall. The slightly chilly sensation caused Yan Qing’an’s pupils to tremble slightly, and his spine tensed.
He Heng, like an aggressively dominant large cat, pressed half of his body onto Yan Qing’an. His fine strands of hair incessantly brushed over the nape of the other’s neck. The breath spraying on Yan Qing’an’s neck grew increasingly heated, prompting an uncontrollable soft gasp from the person in his embrace.
“Um~”
Unbeknownst to them, a small red dot on the wall behind Yan Qing’an was blinking like a camera flash.
Little did they know, the online forum outside had already exploded.
At this moment, the barrage of comments on the video screen flooded in, almost completely obscuring the entire display. The originally black background was now painted white.
[What’s going on?]
[Damn, is this really something we can watch for free?]
[Ah ah ah ah, I’m going crazy!]
[Master’s voice sounds so good (ugh), can you say it again?]
Because the camera was conveniently positioned just behind Yan Qing’an, everyone could now clearly see He Heng’s slightly lowered long eyelashes and his thin lips drawing nearer.
The crowd watched as he reached out and cupped Yan Qing’an’s face, leaning in,
[Is he going to kiss him?]
[Oh my god, I’m so excited!]
[I really want to just push their heads together.]
However, just as everyone was holding their breath and eagerly watching, He Heng’s movement suddenly froze in mid-air.
He halted just a hair’s breadth away from Yan Qing’an’s thin lips, his eyelashes drooping slightly as if lost in thought.
Yan Qing’an was left in a state of uncertainty, his entire small face resembling a steamed scallop, flushed crimson.
Clutching the front of He Heng’s garment, he softly inquired, “What’s… what’s wrong?”
“Wait a moment,” He Heng turned his head slightly, his tone sounding rather serious.
Immediately, he reached out and pulled the tiny camera embedded in the wall corner. With a slight force from his fingertips, the camera crumbled into pieces, and the small red dot finally disappeared completely.
“Done.”
After dealing with that red “eyesore”, He Heng felt as if he had removed a thorn lodged in his throat, finally feeling at ease.
“Hmm?”
Before Yan Qing’an could fully react, He Heng had already reached out, cupping his face, and kissed him passionately.
A warm sensation spread between their lips, followed by a subtle tingling. He Heng bit down on Yan Qing’an’s lower lip, not too gentle, not too harsh.
“Mmm!”
Yan Qing’an emitted a soft gasp, somewhat pained, then instinctively parted his lips, allowing the slightly cool air to slip in. It provided an opportunity for the other to take advantage.
Outside the cave, the tourists stared at their suddenly blackened scrying mirrors, wearing expressions of stunned confusion.
[???]
[I want to curse someone, seriously, how can it black out at such a crucial moment?]
[I feel like I wasted my ticket.]
[Can we get a technician to fix this? I want to see the kissing!]
But the next second, the post with the livestream link was suddenly deleted, and when everyone tried to click into it, it showed that the post did not exist.
Following that, the administrator with the red tag appeared after a long absence and posted a message in the public channel:
[Administrator Little Rabbit: Apologies for the inconvenience, there was a malfunction in the amusement facilities just now. We will resolve the issue within half an hour. As compensation, everyone will be upgraded to the premium package for free today.]
Just now, the mischievous Little Rabbit demon was finally found by the rescue team sent by He Heng. The instigators of all this, Tian Shouyu, and his sidekick, were also apprehended.
Seeing that this farce was finally coming to an end, the only remaining issue was that the enchantment state of the Demon Lord had not been lifted. Except for Yan Qing’an, no one dared to approach.
After witnessing He Heng’s fierce expression, the little demons had no intention of getting closer. They could only watch as He Heng lifted Yan Qing’an horizontally, carrying him back to their bedroom like a big cat with bared teeth.
Outside the venue, the onlookers, still immersed in the excitement from earlier, had no interest in discussing the matter of upgrading packages. They were fervently discussing the recent events.
[No need for an upgrade, just continue showing us the video from earlier.]
[Yes, exactly. Strongly recommend continuing the playback of the previous video.]
Comments of this nature were countless.
Meanwhile, Nie Zong was on his way, rushing with his sword. Because he couldn’t afford to be distracted while controlling the sword, he missed the most thrilling part of the live broadcast.
By the time he landed, the livestream had already ended.
Nie Zong glanced at the comments below related to the “Sinister Sect Leader”, muttering through gritted teeth, “You little brat, just you wait!”
Following the directions on the sign, Nie Zong circled around and finally arrived at the entrance of the Nine Nether Yellow Springs. As he looked at the crowded line in front of him, he felt increasingly agitated.
What surprised him was that it seemed like people entering here hadn’t bought tickets. They simply aimed their scrying mirrors at the machine in front, made a “drip” sound, and then each one entered naturally.
So, what did this mean?
No need to buy tickets?
Nie Zong, who usually spent his time handling sect affairs within the sect and had never ventured out for leisure, suddenly felt a bit out of touch with the times. If he had known, he should have brought his disciples with him when he decided to leave the sect in a fit of anger. Now that things had come to this, Nie Zong could only follow the crowd, feeling bewildered as he walked forward.
After about ten minutes, Nie Zong finally reached the end of the line. Mimicking the other tourists, he took out his scrying mirror and aimed it at the machine, snapping several pictures.
However, the machine in front showed no reaction at all. The iron gate remained still, showing no sign of opening for him.
“Excuse me, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Just then, a tender voice suddenly rang out. Nie Zong lowered his head and saw a little rabbit demon with bandages still on his face, smiling and looking up at him.
In this moment, Nie Zong widened his eyes in disbelief. He stared at the innocent and cute little rabbit demon before him, feeling so angry that his beard seemed to want to float up.
Sir?
His sixtieth birthday was still a month away. How could he be called “sir” already?
Did he really look that old?
“Cough! Cough!”
Seeing this, Nie Zong cleared his throat loudly, attempting to use his booming voice to prove that he was still very robust.
However, faced with the gentle smile of the little rabbit demon, reminiscent of caring for an elderly person, Nie Zong somewhat resignedly averted his gaze. Then, he pointed to the machine in front and asked seriously:
“Why can’t I get in?”
The little rabbit demon continued to smile kindly, “Hello, you need to purchase a ticket online with your scrying mirror first, then scan the QR code on the machine, and you’ll be able to enter.”
“QR code?” Nie Zong scratched his head, feeling a bit perplexed.
He had never used such a thing before. In the past, no matter where he went, he used copper coins or spiritual treasures to pay. What in the world was this QR code?
The little rabbit demon beside him seemed to sense his confusion and kindly said, “If you don’t know how to operate it, you can give me your scrying mirror, and I can assist you in purchasing the ticket.”
“Well, fine, thank you.”
After hesitating for a moment, Sect Leader Nie finally compromised.
How to get in didn’t matter; the urgent task was to quickly enter and settle the score with that little brat.
Finally inside the Nine Nether Yellow Springs scenic area, Nie Zong stood dumbfounded as he gazed at the intricate sea of amaryllis flowers, resembling a maze.
Confronted with dozens of seemingly identical paths, he took a deep breath and then pulled out his scrying mirror.
Reluctantly, Nie Zong sent a few messages to Yan Qing’an:
“Xiao Yan, I’m now at the entrance of the Nine Nether Yellow Springs. Do you know where He Heng is?”
After sending this message, Nie Zong took a photo and sent it to Yan Qing’an with a line below:
“The paths here are a bit confusing. Where are you? Can you come and pick up your master?”
In He Heng’s presidential suite, he lay on the soft bed, holding Yan Qing’an to his side.
By now, Yan Qing’an’s clothes had slipped down to his waist. He reached out, embracing He Heng’s neck, resembling a lone boat constantly rocking in turbulent waves, his body trembling uncontrollably.
But at that moment,
“Drip! Drip! Drip!” The scrying mirror beneath them began to vibrate incessantly.
“Um~”
Yan Qing’an was oblivious to everything happening. His consciousness was hazy, and he couldn’t help but pant. The amber-colored eyes were veiled with mist, looking a bit unfocused. Other than the marks left by He Heng on his body, he couldn’t sense anything.
Perhaps because his own inner core had some effect in suppressing the demonic energy on He Heng, the enchanted He Heng, driven by instinct, wanted to do something inappropriate to Yan Qing’an.
However, Yan Qing’an’s only concern was whether it would be uncomfortable after the enchantment. He simply let He Heng do as he pleased.
So, after returning to the bedroom, the two of them went from the bathroom to the big bed, ultimately leaving the bedding in disarray.
At this point, Yan Qing’an’s fingertips were deeply embedded in the bed beneath, slightly clenched. He pleaded with a slightly tearful voice,
“Um, He Heng, go slower, please.”
Hearing this, He Heng’s eyes darkened a bit. He leaned down, biting into the exposed fair neck, leaving a light mark.
“Master.”
In a moment when both were a bit lost,
“Drip!”
The scrying mirror beneath them vibrated again.
Following that, there was another series of “drip! drip! drip!” notification sounds.
So annoying!
Why is there something so annoying?
At this moment, He Heng’s mind was only filled with one thought—how he wanted to slaughter the person who invented the scrying mirror.
Unable to bear the disturbance of the ringing any longer, He Heng reached out, grabbed Yan Qing’an’s scrying mirror, and forcefully threw it away with a resounding “crack” as it shattered into pieces in the distance.
This loud noise brought back some of Yan Qing’an’s awareness. He lifted his head slightly and softly asked,
“What’s wrong?”
With the surroundings finally quieting down, He Heng embraced Yan Qing’an again, pressing him back onto the bed. His breath still sounded a bit ragged.
“I think I just smashed your scrying mirror,” he said, then kissed the side of Yan Qing’an’s neck again. “But it’s okay, we can buy another one later.”
“Oh.”
Yan Qing’an felt a bit dizzy. He heard what He Heng said, but it only registered on a surface level. He had no awareness of what had just happened, except for a vague sense of something breaking.
Well, if it’s broken, it’s broken.
With that in mind, Yan Qing’an reached out and hugged He Heng, snuggling into his embrace.
Unable to get a response from Yan Qing’an through messages, Nie Zong impatiently dialed Yan Qing’an’s number.
However, all he heard on the other end was a frequent “drip! drip! drip!” busy signal. Annoyed, he disconnected the scrying mirror. Making clear his identity as the sect leader of the Huayang Sword Sect, he demanded the person to lead him.
Walking towards the central hall, Nie Zong muttered in frustration,
“Really, that little rascal is unreliable. How did even my usually steady nephew become like this?”
With these thoughts, he faintly sensed a premonition that Yan Qing’an must have been led astray by that little rascal!
After reaching this conclusion, Nie Zong became even more determined to bring Yan Qing’an back to the Huayang Sword Sect quickly. He couldn’t allow the future blossom of their sect to be treated in such a way.
Guided by the little demon, he quickly found the central hall’s lobby. However, despite waiting and waiting in the hall from noon until evening, he saw no sign of He Heng.
When he asked the front desk, all they replied was a vague “busy”. As for what exactly they were busy with, the front desk couldn’t provide any explanation.
Finally, Nie Zong, feeling exceptionally impatient, paced back and forth in the lobby with his hands behind his back.
When the last rays of the sunset finally fell from the window,
He Heng walked out of the steaming pool, holding Yan Qing’an. The person in his arms wore disheveled green silk, looking like a gentle kitten. The exposed chest bore ambiguous red marks and purplish bruises.
At this moment, He Heng’s demonic energy had mostly dissipated. He lowered his gaze, feeling a rare sense of guilt when looking at the mottled marks on Yan Qing’an’s body.
It seemed he might have gone a bit too far just now.
Yan Qing’an’s skin turned out to be even more sensitive than He Heng had imagined. Even a light touch would make it blush, and a slightly stronger touch would leave marks.
At this moment, the person in his arms was already getting a bit sleepy, with eyes half-closed. However, upon meeting He Heng’s gaze, he forced himself to stay alert, opening his dewy amber eyes and snuggling closer to He Heng.
“Do you feel better now? Still uncomfortable from the demonic influence?”
“Mmm.”
Before Yan Qing’an could finish speaking, He Heng lowered his head and bit him on the ear. When he pulled away, he could see the skin there quickly turning a faint pink.
For some reason, whenever He Heng looked at Yan Qing’an’s damp, almost animal-like eyes, he couldn’t help but want to tease him.
After being bitten, Yan Qing’an couldn’t help but shrink a bit, and he complained a little, “What are you doing?”
“Are you a little dog?”
“Oh?” Hearing this, He Heng playfully curled the corner of his mouth, “I’m a little dog. Then, Master, what are you? Are you a big dog?”
Yan Qing’an: “…”
He Heng sensed Yan Qing’an’s frustration and anger, he playfully buried his head in He Heng’s embrace, unable to say anything. He secretly reached out and pinched He Heng, but couldn’t exert any force.
After returning to the bedroom and changing into neat clothes, He Heng had some food brought in. Unexpectedly, the little fox spirit hurriedly came to report, “Um, Demon Lord, the Head of the Huayang Sword Sect, Master Nie, seems to have been waiting for you in the hall for a long time.”
He still looked hurried.
Upon hearing that his senior uncle had come, Yan Qing’an blushed instantly, slightly turning his head. In his heart, he nervously speculated whether Nie Zong already knew about their relationship.
He Heng responded impatiently, “Fine, I got it.” He waved his hand at the little fox spirit, saying, “Let him come up.”
Although he didn’t particularly like this old man, Nie Zong was, after all, Yan Qing’an’s senior uncle, and maintaining a good relationship on the surface was necessary.
About a minute later, guided by the little fox spirit, Nie Zong walked in with firm and forceful steps, presenting himself grandly.
The rules of the Huayang Sword Sect were strict, and as a junior, one must not neglect etiquette.
Seeing Nie Zong approaching, Yan Qing’an immediately stood up from his chair and called out, “Senior Uncle.” He walked over to take the long sword in Nie Zong’s hand.
However, his steps were floaty, and he couldn’t walk fast. The way he walked seemed odd.
Observing his awkward appearance, Nie Zong furrowed his brows with a puzzled expression, especially when he noticed He Heng standing beside Yan Qing’an, reaching out to assist him.
After a moment of silence, Nie Zong looked at Yan Qing’an and said solemnly, “How many times have I told you? Don’t practice recklessly without moderation. It’s good to have high standards for yourself, but practicing excessively will only lead to injuries.”
Hearing these words, Yan Qing’an lost his grip on the long sword, and it clattered to the ground with a loud “clang!”. His face turned red, and he lowered his head, unable to utter a single word.
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