Chapter 50: Panic and terror
Ever since Wuyan had been "nearly smitten with intimacy" that day, nearly being executed by the Lord's gaze, a silent revolution had quietly begun within the Lotus Tower. While they had previously revered the authority of the Tower Master's husband, this reverence now fused with a deep-seated wariness of the Tower Master's "innocent" yet potentially fatal act of intimacy.
The first thing that was evident was the attire. Regardless of gender, all subordinates who needed to enter the inner room or might encounter the owner of the building all began to "wrap the rice dumplings" at the same time.
His usual sharp suit was gone, replaced by a high-necked shirt with the collar buttoned to the top and the cuffs tightly tucked in. Wuyan even got himself a pair of thin yet tough silver gloves, euphemistically claiming them to be "anti-poison and anti-hidden weapon," but in reality, they were just in case the host suddenly got the urge to "blow" his hand wound.
As a woman, Shi Shui's clothing was once quite convenient, but now she also changed into a riding uniform with a stand-up collar and cuffs. Her hair was meticulously tied up, leaving no stray hairs that could be "accidentally touched." Furthermore, someone had started a practice whereby any minor facial injuries were meticulously covered with thin, flesh-colored patches, leaving absolutely no flaws for the poster to "exploit."
Entering the inner room to report matters became a technical job that required courage.
Their steps must be extremely light, their breathing must be extremely subtle, and their eyes must be fixed firmly on the Master when reporting. They must not glance around, and they must not dare to make eye contact with the seemingly harmless host standing nearby. If, unfortunately, the host is looking at them, they must immediately look down at their nose and down at their heart, silently repeating to themselves, "Can't see me, can't see me."
When delivering items, always place them on a long plate or tray, with your arms extended, maintaining the maximum safe distance possible, and absolutely no physical contact. If the poster shows any intention of approaching, such as putting down the toy in their hands and standing up, the reporter must immediately step back half a step and quickly look at the master with a pleading look - help!
The sound of the flute brought the tense atmosphere to the extreme.
Like a ferocious beast guarding its food, he was constantly alert to anything that might divert Li Lianhua's attention. Whenever a subordinate entered, his gaze would follow them like a shadow, coldly scanning every inch of their potentially "exposed" body, as well as every subtle movement of Li Lianhua.
If he noticed Li Lianhua showing the slightest bit of excessive interest in someone, even if it was just a glance or an unconscious move towards them, Di Feisheng would immediately speak up in a cold voice: "If nothing else, leave."
If someone accidentally falls prey to the trap, say, someone's clothing is curiously tugged upon by the poster, or the poster smells the medicinal scent on them and moves closer to "get a glimpse," their mission for the next several months or even six months will likely be to search for "bone-eating grass" in the quicksands of the Western Regions, or to traverse the malaria-ridden jungles of Southern Xinjiang in search of the "Millennium Poison Toad"—both dangerous and arduous. While euphemistically called "a heavy responsibility," everyone knows this is the punishment for "offending the poster."
Li Lianhua, who was at the center of the storm, was completely oblivious to this. He continued to live in his own ignorant world, but gradually discovered that everyone around him seemed to have become a little "strange".
They were always dressed thickly, kept a distance from him, spoke quickly, and left immediately. He wanted to touch Ah Fu's newly woven grasshoppers, but Ah Fu would jump away like a frightened rabbit; he wanted to smell the pleasant herbal scent of Sister Shi Shui, but Shi Shui would immediately take three steps back; he even wanted to touch the edge of the shiny mask on Brother Wu Yan's face out of curiosity, but Wu Yan would perform a "flat-ground wrestling" and a "continuous backflip" to get away from him.
He felt a little aggrieved. He raised his head, tugged at the sleeve of Di Feisheng beside him, and muttered softly, "...They...are afraid of me?"
Di Feisheng would immediately pull him into his arms, gently caress his back, and coax him calmly, "We're not afraid of you. They have...bugs on them, and they're afraid they'll infect you." Or, "They haven't practiced their kung fu well enough, so they can't stand steadily."
Li Lianhua seemed to understand, but when she heard the words "bugs" or "poor kung fu", she would show a little sympathy, then nod obediently and no longer try to get close to those "poor" subordinates.
Thus, a peculiar landscape was formed in the Lotus Tower: the Shura-like Lord carefully and meticulously doted on the owner with snow-white hair and a child-like mind; while everyone in the tower kept their distance from the owner who was as pure as glass, fearing that an unintentional act of affection by the Lord would make him extremely jealous and lead to exile to the frontier.
Under the innocent and naive gaze of the building owner, the entire Lotus Building was in a state of panic, with every tree and grass acting as an enemy.
The night was deep, and in the main room at the deepest part of the Lotus Tower, only a candle flickered by the bed, casting ambiguous light and shadow on the gauze curtain, creating a quiet and private atmosphere in the room.
Li Lianhua had grown accustomed to sleeping in a plain white undergarment every night. The thin silk made his figure appear even thinner, the slightly open collar revealing a slender, fragile neck and delicate collarbone. His silvery white hair spread across the pillow, reflecting the candlelight and giving it a soft sheen. He curled up in the soft brocade quilt, his breathing shallow, his long eyelashes drooping. He seemed to have fallen asleep, yet with every subtle movement of the flute, he unconsciously slid closer to his embrace, seeking that reassuring warmth and breath.
Di Feisheng lay beside him, fully clothed, her arms wrapped around his slender waist, locking him tightly in her embrace. Warm and soft, he held her in his arms, his breath filled with the delicate scent of her body, a mixture of medicinal fragrance and the clean aroma of soap. Under his palms, even through the thin layer of silk, he could clearly feel the pliant waistline and slightly cool skin.
His body was tense like a fully drawn bowstring, every muscle stiff with the effort of endurance. Blood raced through his veins, a familiar, burning desire raging through his limbs, threatening to burst through the prison of reason. Night after night, sleeping in each other's arms was both the ultimate comfort and the most brutal torture for him.
He lowered his eyes, greedily tracing the peaceful sleeping face of the person in his arms, and his fingertips unconsciously and lightly stroked his lower back. The delicate touch was like poison, making his Adam's apple roll and his breathing involuntarily become heavier.
Perhaps sensing the burning heat and subtle trembling of his palm, Li Lianhua stirred restlessly in her sleep, uttering a vague mutter. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes, still hazy with the mist of newly awakened water, stared at him blankly, as if puzzled as to why he hadn't fallen asleep yet.
"Did I wake you up?" Di Feisheng's voice was very hoarse, with a hint of barely perceptible tension.
Li Lianhua shook her head and shrank back into his arms out of habit, unconsciously rubbing her cheek against his chest like a young animal seeking comfort. This completely dependent action was like a spark splashing into an oil barrel, instantly igniting the fire that Di Feisheng had been suppressing!
He took a deep breath, a deep, almost engulfing dark tide swirling in his eyes. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against Li Lianhua's, their noses touching, their breaths blending. In an extremely gentle yet irresistible, coaxing tone, he whispered, "Lianhua... help me... please?"
Li Lianhua looked at him blankly, as if she didn't understand what "help" meant.
The sound of the flute guided his slightly cool hand, slowly moving it down to cover her tight and burning lower abdomen, even lower... The scorching temperature and the sense of power ready to be unleashed made Li Lianhua's hand subconsciously shrink, and a trace of instinctive timidity flashed across her eyes.
"Don't be afraid..." Di Feisheng panted, kissed his brow, and said in a low and bewitching voice, "Just like... before... help me... you will..."
He continued to soothe him with gentle kisses, occasionally licking his slightly cool earlobe with his tongue very quickly, bringing a slight shudder. His other hand gently massaged his lower back and spine, trying to make him relax.
Li Lianhua frowned in confusion, as if struggling to understand this unfamiliar request. But Di Feisheng's breath, body temperature, and magically deep voice held a fatal attraction and soothing power over him. He trusted him completely, and though he didn't understand, he didn't resist strongly.
Under Di Feisheng's persistent and patient guidance and temptation, he awkwardly and hesitantly began to imitate the vague impressions that might exist in his memory and remain from his body's instincts, and moved his fingers very lightly.
That clumsy, unconscious touch was like a huge wave, instantly shattering Di Feisheng's last bit of sanity!
He suddenly sucked in a breath of cold air, his arms suddenly tightened, holding him tightly in his arms, as if he wanted to rub him into his bones and blood! The hot kiss fell like a rainstorm, no longer a light taste, but with uncontrollable force, rolling over his eyebrows, eyelids, and nose tip, and finally fiercely grabbing his lips that were slightly open in surprise!
"Hmm..." Li Lianhua was overwhelmed by the sudden and intense kiss and let out a slight whimper. She subconsciously tried to push him away, but Di Feisheng grabbed her wrist faster and fixed it above her head.
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