Chapter 117

Su Zhelan was stunned. Her burning hatred and desperate confession felt like a punch landing on cotton; instead of the expected reaction, it aroused in the other party a kind of... incomprehensible, morbid pleasure?

What is he happy about?

This thought pierced through the burning fog of hatred within Su Zhelan. Looking at the ever-expanding smile and satisfaction in Xiao Qiyun's eyes, a chill inexplicably crept up his spine.

The heart-wrenching accusations from just now seem somewhat ridiculous, somewhat...uneven?

Just as this bewilderment took over, and anger and pain were temporarily pushed into a corner, Su Zhelan almost subconsciously, with a hint of doubt and probing, raised her hand—the hand that still trembled slightly from intense emotions—and with a touch of confusion that she herself was unaware of, and very lightly and quickly patted Xiao Qiyun's cheek.

His voice was still hoarse from the scream, filled with confusion and even a slight unease at being frightened by the other party's unusual reaction. He muttered softly, "...Crazy?"

The ecstasy on Xiao Qiyun's face vanished instantly, not by disappearing, but by solidifying into a deeper, more deadly focus.

Before Su Zhelan could fully retract his hand, Xiao Qiyun's hand had already gripped his wrist like an iron clamp!

“I’m not crazy…” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was deep and mellow, like the finest wine, yet with a heart-stopping viscosity and a scalding heat that poured directly into Su Zhelan’s ear, “It’s just… I crave you too much…”

Xiao Qiyun's kiss landed fiercely and ruthlessly, without any order, more like the tearing and swallowing of a hungry beast. His teeth grazed Su Zhelan's lower lip, bringing a sharp sting.

"Ugh...!" Su Zhelan's breath was instantly taken away, and a short, indistinct groan came from her nose. She responded almost unconsciously, timidly, yet very naturally, wrapping herself around him.

The entanglement between their lips and teeth finally ended, leaving a trail of ambiguous saliva. Su Zhelan breathed heavily, her chest heaving, her lips slightly swollen and red from being sucked, still carrying a hint of the stinging pain from being bitten.

He subconsciously raised his hand and roughly wiped his wet lips with his fingertips, as if trying to wipe away the unsettling, sticky sensation. Then he looked up and his gaze met Xiao Qiyun's eyes, which were still surging with undiminished passion, but now even deeper and more focused.

Gone was the docile pretense, gone was the cautious probing; at this moment, Su Zhelan's eyes were as sharp as a drawn blade, carrying a kind of reckless, almost shameless bluntness.

"Heh..." A short, slightly mocking laugh escaped Su Zhelan's throat, breaking the thick silence in the room.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping unabashedly over Xiao Qiyun's lips, which were also slightly unsteady on their feet, before meeting those deep eyes again. A cold smile curved his lips, his voice still slightly hoarse from passion, yet every word was clear:

"Your Highness..." He deliberately emphasized the honorific title, drawing out the last syllable slowly, with a hint of playful provocation, "...After the kiss, you're not planning to just let it go, are you?"

These words were blunt and blatant, completely tearing away the thin veil of affection or tenderness between them. It was as if the intense, almost suffocating kiss just now was merely a transaction with a price tag.

Looking at Su Zhelan's appearance—her lips swollen from being kissed, the finger marks left after wiping her mouth, and her eyes that were no longer concealed, filled with naked calculation and demand—the darkness in his eyes deepened, but the corners of his mouth slowly, slowly turned up.

A sense of knowing, indulgence, and even... a hint of being pleased.

"Heh..." Xiao Qiyun chuckled softly, his voice deep and pleasant, carrying a sense of composure as if he controlled the entire situation. His gaze, almost tangible, lingered on Su Zhelan, filled with an almost indulgent indulgence, as he softly asked, "Of course, after all, we've done everything..."

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes full of encouragement and a "speak up" tone. "Tell me. What do you want?"

Every word carried a heavy weight, as if promising that if Su Zhelan spoke, he could turn the world upside down, just to satisfy his heart filled with hatred and desire.

The air was filled with the lingering ambiguity of desire, yet it was replaced by a new, more naked tension, like that of a transaction.

Su Zhelan didn't immediately reveal any earth-shattering revenge plan, nor did he demand any bloody promises. His gaze, almost deliberately and slowly, moved from Xiao Qiyun's face down to the desk behind them—a mess left by their intense entanglement and out-of-control emotions.

The map was crumpled, the files were scattered all over the floor, the cinnabar inkstone was overturned, and the bright red ink, like congealed blood, flowed and stained the precious parchment and the scattered documents.

Su Zhelan raised his hand, not pointing at Xiao Qiyun, nor at the illusory target of revenge, but with his index finger, still bearing the slight swelling from the kiss, precisely and with a hint of disgust, pointed to the center of the mess.

His voice was crystal clear; each word seemed to strike the still air like a tiny hammer.

"First, organize my files..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the papers stained with cinnabar and soaked with tea, his brow furrowing slightly, "...

These words were spoken in an extremely calm tone, even with a hint of self-righteousness and condescension, creating an absurd yet impactful contrast with the intense, suffocating kiss just moments before and the promise made to Xiao Qiyun.

Xiao Qiyun's smile froze for a moment. He followed Su Zhelan's finger to the mess, then slowly turned back, his gaze returning to Su Zhelan's face.

In those deep eyes, a complex and unreadable emotion surged—a hint of surprise, a touch of speechlessness at this sudden, almost childish "demand," but more than anything, a thoroughly pleased, almost indulgent, interest.

He chuckled softly, not with the previous ecstatic laughter, but with a muffled laugh that resonated deep within his chest, a laugh tinged with both helplessness and immense pleasure.

Laughter echoed in the quiet study, dispelling the last vestiges of lingering passion.

“Heh…” Xiao Qiyun shook his head without hesitation, nor did he feel offended or slighted. He released his arm that had been loosely wrapped around Su Zhelan’s waist, and gracefully adjusted the cuffs that had become slightly loose due to the intense movements.

Then, under Su Zhelan's somewhat provocative and scrutinizing gaze, Xiao Qiyun carefully righted the overturned cinnabar inkstone and used a clean handkerchief to absorb the excess ink.

Then, he patiently picked up the scattered files one by one, gently smoothing out the wrinkles. He even carefully distinguished which were soaked with tea and which were stained with cinnabar, and neatly stacked them according to their categories.

Su Zhelan simply crossed her arms, leaned against the desk, and watched quietly.

Only after the last file was smoothed and folded, and the map was carefully laid out in the center of the desk, did Xiao Qiyun straighten up.

He patted non-existent dust off his hands, his gaze returning to Su Zhelan's face, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet conveying boundless indulgence and a hint of amusement.

"Alright." His voice was deep and pleasant, carrying a calm as if the dust had settled.

Su Zhelan walked straight past Xiao Qiyun, who was still standing by the desk, without even giving him a glance, as if he were just an insignificant decoration, and sat down decisively.

He reached out, his fingertips precisely gliding over the top stack of papers stained with cinnabar and with slightly curled edges, and pulled them out without hesitation.

It was a secret report about the cult's most recent large-scale gathering, and the coordinates marked with coded language were exactly the places he had previously outlined with a vermilion pen.

The only sound in the study was the soft rustling of turning pages, as Su Zhelan was completely absorbed in it.

Xiao Qiyun stood still. He saw Su Zhelan's fingertips twirling the corner of the paper and heard the light tapping sound on the table.

His gaze swept over the cup of ginseng tea beside Su Zhelan, which had long since gone cold, before he turned away naturally and silently, walking to the tea table beside her. He picked up the silver kettle that was warming on the stove, poured out the cold tea, and refilled it with piping hot fresh tea. Steam rose, carrying the slightly bitter aroma of ginseng slices, filling the air.

He carried the steaming cup of ginseng tea back to his desk. Without a word, he gently placed the cup neither too close nor too far from Su Zhelan's hand—so that it wouldn't touch the documents Su Zhelan was reading, yet was still within easy reach. The cup made almost no sound as it touched the table.

Having done all this, Xiao Qiyun sat down on the low couch nearby. He did not approach again, nor did he try to decipher the contents of the dossier.

He simply sat quietly, leaning back slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on Su Zhelan.

Time seemed to stretch out in the inner room. The sunlight moved slowly across the windowpane, softening from the sharpness of the morning until it finally took on the lazy golden hue of the afternoon.

The rustling of paper turning, the soft sound of fingernails scratching ink, and the rising steam from the cup of ginseng tea, carrying a slightly bitter medicinal aroma, constituted the only rhythm in this space.

Su Zhelan was engrossed in the case files, her fingertips fidgeting with the corners of the papers, her brows sometimes furrowing and sometimes relaxing. Occasionally, she would scratch heavily across a name or location with her fingernail, leaving a silent warning. The cup of hot ginseng tea that Xiao Qiyun had replaced with had gone mostly cold by the time he unconsciously raised his hand, yet it remained untouched.

In this almost frozen silence, a series of footsteps, approaching from afar with a distinctly cheerful rhythm, shattered the balance like a pebble thrown into a lake! — It was Sheng Xuan! And judging from the sound, he was rushing towards them!

Su Zhelan's fingers, which were flipping through the files, suddenly stopped! Without a word, or even a noticeable movement, she simply gave Xiao Qiyun a swift, unequivocal wink! That gaze was sharp as a knife, clearly conveying one message: Put it away! Immediately!

Upon receiving the order, Xiao Qiyun immediately took action. He first moved the cinnabar brush and inkstone aside, then swiftly grabbed the remaining items and shoved them onto the bookshelf. Su Zhelan casually picked up a book.

The very next second after the last piece of "evidence" disappeared, "Bang!" The door to the room was violently flung open by a burst of force, slamming heavily against the wall with a deafening roar!

"I'm back—!" Sheng Xuan's loud voice exploded like a machine gun, full of unrestrained joy. "Guess what? The line at that shop in the south of the city was incredibly long! I stood there for a whole hour! My legs are numb! But it was worth it for you!"

Su Zhelan calmly turned a page of the local gazetteer in her hand, without even raising her head. Her voice was flat and emotionless: "Keep your voice down... put it there." Her tone carried a hint of impatience at being disturbed, which perfectly masked her previous tension.

He didn't want Sheng Xuan to know. Last time, Sheng Xuan almost lost half his life because of these things, and it took him several months to recover.

Su Zhelan still remembers Sheng Xuan's body wrapped in bandages, barely breathing. He absolutely cannot let Sheng Xuan get involved again until everything is perfectly prepared and everything is foolproof. That kid is too reckless; if he finds out, he'll definitely rush forward without a second thought.

Sheng Xuan scratched his head, sensing something was off about the atmosphere, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He instinctively turned his head and suddenly realized—the man sitting like a shadow on the low couch in the corner!

"Xiao Qiyun?!" Sheng Xuan's voice suddenly rose, filled with accusation and displeasure, "What are you still here for?!"

Xiao Qiyun leaned lazily against the low couch, as if he had always been there. He slightly raised his eyelids, his gaze sweeping lightly over Sheng Xuan's hostile face. A faint, yet chilling, curve appeared at the corner of his lips, his voice low and pleasant, carrying a barely perceptible hint of mockery:

"What? Can't I read with Zelan?" He called "Zelan" with particular affection, as if it were a silent declaration.

Sheng Xuan was speechless at Xiao Qiyun's affectionate and declarative use of "brother," but he was clearly too lazy to argue with Xiao Qiyun any further.

He snorted loudly, completely ignoring Xiao Qiyun, and turned to yell at Su Zhelan, his voice filled with the grievance and self-righteousness of someone who had been running around all morning:

"Zelan! Have you had lunch yet? I'm starving! I've been running around all morning!"

As he spoke, he exaggeratedly rubbed his stomach, but his eyes were fixed on Su Zhelan with a bright look, as if expecting her to praise him.

Su Zhelan finally looked up from the local gazetteer and her gaze fell on Sheng Xuan's face, which was covered in sweat and looked like he was starving.

The corners of his mouth slowly curved upwards into a very shallow arc, enough to make Sheng Xuan's eyes light up. That smile carried a hint of helplessness, and also a hint of... just the right amount of indulgence.

"No," Su Zhelan's voice was much softer than before, even carrying a hint of lazy laughter, her gaze sweeping over the bag of hawthorn cakes covered in frosting on the table, "You haven't come back yet, I'm waiting for you."

Sheng Xuan was instantly overjoyed by the words "waiting for you," and the anger and inexplicable suspicion that Xiao Qiyun had just provoked vanished immediately.

He grinned and said, "Hehe, I knew it! Let's eat quickly! I'm starving!"

He immediately turned around and was about to rush out to call for someone to prepare the meal, his steps becoming lighter.

However, just as Sheng Xuan turned around, a deep, pleasant voice, tinged with a lazy, playful tone, drifted slowly from the direction of the low couch:

"Hmm... I haven't eaten either." Xiao Qiyun remained leaning there, relaxed, as if it were just a casual remark. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze passing over Sheng Xuan's shoulder and landing precisely on Su Zhelan's face.

There was no dissatisfaction or strife in those deep eyes, only a playful, all-knowing smile, as if to say: Zhelan, you're not handling this bowl of water very well.

Su Zhelan's smile froze almost imperceptibly, and his fingers tightened slightly around the book. He knew, of course, that Xiao Qiyun was doing it on purpose.

Sheng Xuan stopped in her tracks, turned around abruptly, and glared at Xiao Qiyun with an expression that said, "How can you be so shameless?"

He was about to retort when Su Zhelan spoke first, her voice returning to its previous calm, but with a hint of barely perceptible tension:

“Then… let’s go together.” He closed the local history book in his hand, stood up, and glanced at Sheng Xuan’s sullen face before landing on Xiao Qiyun’s smiling face. “Don’t just stand there, go tell the kitchen to prepare the meal.”

Xiao Qiyun rose leisurely from the low couch. The playful smile on his face hadn't faded at all; instead, it was tinged with a triumphant pleasure because of Su Zhelan's "Let's go together." He straightened his already neat clothes, his movements elegant and composed.

"Okay." Xiao Qiyun's voice was languid and magnetic, but his gaze remained fixed on Su Zhelan's face, the deep meaning in his eyes was self-evident—look how obedient I am? He even took a small step towards Su Zhelan very naturally, in an intimate manner.

Sheng Xuan was so angry at Xiao Qiyun's series of actions that she stomped her feet and pointed at the door, yelling at Su Zhelan, "Su Zhelan! Look at him! What... what does he mean! What right does he have..."

Seeing Sheng Xuan jumping up and down in anger, and then glancing at Xiao Qiyun's disappearing figure at the door, Su Zhelan felt a slight sense of tension from being "manipulated" by Xiao Qiyun, which was instead diluted by a helpless amusement.

He raised his hand and wearily rubbed his temples, his voice carrying a soothing tone, yet also a hint of barely perceptible indulgence:

"Alright, stop fooling around. Aren't you hungry? We'll eat when he gets back." He walked over to Sheng Xuan and patted her shoulder. "Go wash your face; look at all that sweat."

Sheng Xuan froze at Su Zhelan's soothing gesture, his anger deflated like a punctured balloon. He gave an "Oh," glared fiercely at the doorway, and then reluctantly turned to wash his face.