Chapter 203 [Alien Species - Shining Heart] Lantern Festival 3
When Mu Chi came to his senses, it was already three o'clock in the morning. The night was very bright at this time. The evening breeze blew through the window and touched him, making him shiver.
Murong Lian was not in the house, and no one knew where he had gone. His clothes were torn and could not be worn. He wrapped himself in a quilt to keep warm and hid in a corner.
The pain all over his body kept him awake, but he wanted to sleep. He curled up, hugged himself, and couldn't stop crying.
Apart from crying out of shame just now, he hadn't shed a tear throughout the whole process no matter how Murong Lian treated him. It was just that now he suddenly felt wronged.
Unable to stop crying, unable to stop tears.
He thought about it carefully and realized that he had never felt so wronged before.
When Murong Lian came back, she saw Mu Chi wrapped up in a ball, looking so adorable. He went over to him, peeled off the quilt, and pulled him towards her.
When Mu Chi saw Murong Lian, his pupils shrank sharply and his body trembled slightly. He was naked, and the traces of ambiguity were clearly visible, and his eyes were crystal clear in the moonlight.
"Just now you were crying in bed and refused to come out, but now you are suppressing yourself."
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"Let you go?" He pinched Mu Chi's chin and forced him to look up. The moonlight fell on Mu Chi's tear-stained face, and his eyes were still filled with panic. "Wen Nu, have you forgotten who you are?"
Mu Chi bit his lower lip, which had long since turned white from biting himself. He turned his head to avoid the hand, but Murong Lian pinched it even tighter. The pain in his jaw made his eyes hot again. "I'm not..."
He wanted to say that he was no one's property, but his throat seemed to be blocked, and the words of resistance came out in broken voices.
Seeing him like this, Murong Lian's teasing faded a little, and she picked him up sideways. Mu Chi froze in fear, and subconsciously tried to push him away, but he grabbed the back of his neck and held him in his arms.
"Be still. If you move and pull the wound, you'll be in pain."
The quilt was re-made, and Murong Lian was a little gentle when she put him on it, but Mu Chi still tensed himself, even though the wound on his back rubbed against the sheets and made him gasp in pain. Murong Lian took off her outer robe and lay down in front of him. She reached out and pulled him into her arms, letting him press against her chest with his back facing her.
"Don't touch me..." Mu Chi's voice trembled. He wanted to move to the edge of the bed, but his waist was held tightly.
"Why weren't you so stubborn when I was applying the medicine?" Murong Lian's breath brushed against his earlobe, bringing a hint of warmth and moisture. "Or were you actually feeling comfortable when I was finger-raped just now?"
These words were like a needle, piercing Mu Chi's heart. He struggled violently, but was easily pushed back by Murong Lian.
"Shut up!" His voice was filled with tears, and shame and grievance mixed together made him almost breathless.
Murong Lian stopped teasing him and just held her arms tighter, letting him feel the warmth of her chest.
"Go to sleep." His voice suddenly lowered, with a barely perceptible hoarseness, "Mortals need to sleep well."
Mu Chi froze, his back clearly feeling the warmth of the other person's skin and the steady beat of their heart. The humiliation remained, but the warmth seemed to dispel some of the pain, and the exhaustion from crying for so long also surged back. He didn't know how he fell asleep, but he only remembered that in his last blurry moment, the grip on his waist had loosened a little, and someone's warm palm gently rubbed the back of his neck.
The sleep was not peaceful. There was a cold wind outside the window and someone calling for help.
Mu Chi woke up suddenly and shook violently. As a cultivator, the cry for help from a mortal had become his instinct to go to the source.
"What's happening outside has nothing to do with you. Go to sleep!" Murong Lian held down Mu Chi who wanted to get up.
"What's going on outside?"
"I said, go to sleep! Don't you understand? Do you still want to continue what you did just now? Haven't you been fucked enough?" Murong Lian's voice became a little fiercer, and her strength gradually increased, causing Mu Chi's originally fair arm to turn red.
Mu Chi felt his arm go numb, and the pain made his face twisted.
There were more than one person crying for help outside, and the cries were intermittent and mixed with the wind.
"Murong Lian..." Mu Chi's voice trembled, but for the first time, it was filled with pleading, "Save them."
"What does it have to do with me?" Murong Lian said impatiently, "If you move again, I'll think you're inviting me."
Mu Chi's fingertips dug deep wrinkles in the quilt.
Murong Lian's patience completely crumbled at this moment. He suddenly turned over, grabbed Mu Chi's chin with one hand, and with the other, clasped both of his wrists, lifted them high above his head, and pressed them firmly against the pillow. His movements were too hasty, and Mu Chi's shoulder blade hit the bed with a dull thud.
"So you want to take a few cheap lives out there in exchange for me loving you again?"
Mu Chi was in so much pain that his vision went black, but he still struggled to shake his head: "...No, I just-"
"You just can't learn to obey." Murong Lian sneered, her knuckles suddenly tightening. Mu Chi's jaw cracked under the strain, tears forced to roll down his temples. He was forced to open his mouth, but he couldn't utter a complete sentence.
The next moment, Murong Lian loosened her grip, but she didn't intend to let him go. The man knelt on one knee on the edge of the bed and ripped open his shirt, revealing his well-defined chest. With his other hand, he grabbed Mu Chi's hair, forcing him to look up.
"Since you insist on causing trouble, then do it all at once."
Mu Chi realized what he was about to do, his pupils constricting as he shook his head frantically, a hoarse "no" stuck in his throat. Murong Lian refused to listen, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and dragging him towards her, forcing her knees roughly between his legs. The blankets were ruffled, and Mu Chi was practically suspended in mid-air. The only hair he had left was still held in the other person's hand, causing a tearing pain in his scalp.
The cries for help outside the window continued, and the cold wind blew snow particles, hitting the window frame again and again.
"Listen," Murong Lian leaned over and whispered in his ear, her voice so gentle it made him shudder, "They are crying and shouting, but no one can save them. The same goes for you."
Mu Chi was shaking all over, tears streaming down his face. He suddenly stopped struggling, biting his lip and swallowing all his sobs into his throat.
Murong Lian noticed his stiffness and paused for a moment, her eyes darkening into a terrifying color.
"Why, you don't want to continue pretending to be a saint?" He lifted Mu Chi's face and roughly wiped away the tears with his fingertips. "Didn't you ask me to save people just now? Are you scared now?"
Mu Chi breathed hard, his voice breaking: "...Please."
Murong Lian chuckled softly, a smile devoid of any warmth. He leaned forward, his thin lips almost touching Mu Chi's ear, and spoke each word with emphasis, "If you want to ask for help, you have to act like you're asking for help."
He let go of Mu Chi's hair and instead grabbed his waist, turning him over. Mu Chi's face sank into the soft pillow, muffling all his sounds. The quilt was soon wet again, and it was hard to tell whether it was blood or tears.
Murong Lian's movements were neither hurried nor slow, like carving a piece of jade, each stroke of force precisely targeted where it hurt the most. Mu Chi's nails dug deep into his palms, his knuckles turning white, but he stubbornly refused to make another sound. The cries for help outside gradually faded, the wind and snow intensified, and the window frames creaked under the weight.
After an unknown amount of time, Murong Lian finally stopped. He lowered his eyes, looking at the figure curled up in his arms: his back was covered with new finger marks and teeth marks, and the slight trembling in his shoulders still lingered. The man reached out, his fingertips tracing the bruises on the back of Mu Chi's neck, and his voice was hoarse: "Remember, your life belongs to me. From now on, if you dare to ask me for someone else's help again—"
He leaned over and bit the softest flesh behind Mu Chi's ear, not letting go until he tasted blood.
"I will let those people die in front of you one by one."
Mu Chi lay hunched over the pillow, breathing cautiously. The bite mark behind his ear was still bleeding, but he didn't dare raise his hand to touch it, fearing it would only provoke the man's next wave of violence.
Murong Lian stood up, his bare feet treading on the sandalwood floor, his back as sharp as a knife. He half-opened the window, and a cold wind blew in, carrying fine snow, causing the candlelight to flicker.
"The sound is gone." The man's voice was light, as if he was stating something insignificant. "It seems they are all dead."
Mu Chi's fingertips curled silently on the quilt.
Dead.
Because the person he failed to save died just like that. Murong Lian turned around and looked at him.
The boy remained in the same position as before, his shoulders thin and his spine protruding, like a dead branch that would break at the slightest bend. The moonlight gilded every bruise on his body with silver, like some kind of cruel ornamentation.
The man suddenly felt bored.
He had wanted to drive Mu Chi to the brink of collapse, to hear his heart-wrenching pleas for mercy and curses, to see his clear eyes shatter bit by bit. But now that he was truly quiet, he didn't feel happy.
"There are still a few alive," Murong Lian said. He suddenly thought of a great idea to get Mu Chi to serve him voluntarily. "Get up."
Mu Chi didn't move.
The man's patience ran out. He took two steps forward, grabbed the boy by the back of his collar, and lifted him up. The boy's body was so limp that it felt like his bones had been pulled out. He was forced to look up, revealing a fresh finger mark on the side of his neck - the mark left by his loss of control.
"The King is speaking to you."
Mu Chi's eyelashes trembled, and he finally raised his eyes. There were no tears, no hatred, only an ash-like emptiness.
"...Yes." His voice was hoarse, and he slowly got up and wrapped himself in the quilt.
Murong Lian lowered her eyes and looked at him.
"Want to save someone?"
Mu Chi nodded without hesitation.
"Then trade yourself." Murong Lian leaned over, her fingertips rubbing the lingering blood behind his ear, her voice so gentle it made people tremble. "--Not like tonight. I want you to be willing, kneel down and beg me to touch you. Beg until my heart softens."
Mu Chi's pupils suddenly constricted.
"Not only that, I also want you to personally admit in front of those people that you are my cauldron." Murong Lian's fingertips slowly slid to the side of his neck, and a light pressure aroused a shudder. "Admit that you are alive only to please me. Admit that their lives were purchased by you at the cost of your own body."
He had no intention of saving those people. He had set up a barrier around the inn, so the danger outside had nothing to do with this place. He knew without even thinking that everything outside was definitely because of Dongfang Liu and Zuo Qianqian.
The last time I saw them, nothing good happened.
However, they would handle the outside matters, and he only needed to deal with Mu Chi. His Wen Nu was too disobedient, always self-righteous because of his tolerance. He needed to be disciplined and let him know who was the master and who had the rights.
He didn't understand. Wen Hanshuang was just a mortal, a mortal who had suffered hardships before. How could she think of saving others? She couldn't even take care of herself. How foolish she was!
But who can blame me for being so kind? I should show mercy and teach him a lesson about the evil of human nature. In extreme situations, no one will care about the life or death of an outsider. Those mortals have lifespans as short as ants, but they still have to fight for their lives. It's really funny.
Mortals have short lives, and without any cultivation, they are only fit to be at the bottom. Once they die, they are dead. The thing that the three realms lack the least is mortals.
Murong Lian didn't hear Mu Chi speak for a long time, so he said, "You're not in a hurry, but those mortals are."
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