Chapter Thirty-Five: Blood
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"Wen Zhaoye, can you be sure that your feelings for me are love, and not just your obsession?"
Wen Zhuo lowered her head after saying those words, refusing to look at Wen Zhaoye's expression. The next second, her face was forcibly lifted, and Wen Zhaoye pinched her chin with his fingers.
His expression turned cold, his brows furrowed, and his sharp eyes pierced out like blades: "What do you mean?"
Wen Zhuo turned her head away, trying to avoid his gaze, while Wen Zhaoye pinched her cheek and looked at her.
His voice was cold: "Explain yourself."
It seemed that only at times like this could Wen Zhuo find the older brother who used to scold her when she was a child. Wen Zhaoye had hardly ever scolded her since she grew up, and he always covered for her when she did something bad. She remained silent.
Seemingly realizing his expression was too fierce, Wen Zhaoye closed his eyes, trying to soften his expression, but his voice still carried a hint of coldness: "You want to use this excuse to leave me?"
Wen Zhuo asked in confusion: "?"
"I just feel that maybe what you feel for me isn't love, but what does that have to do with whether I leave you or not?"
Wen Zhaoye still had a cold face. He pulled Wen Zhuo's arm and walked out: "Then you come back with me now and promise me you'll never leave."
Wen Zhu struggled in confusion: "Why can't I leave? Are you going to lock me up?"
"Didn't you leave me all alone in the country before? Now you suddenly can't stand it anymore? I'm not going!" Wen Zhuo forcefully pulled her hand away.
Wen Zhaoye grasped Wen Zhuo's arm again. He knew Wen Zhuo was strong, but he was also certain that Wen Zhuo would not hurt him.
“I really can’t stand it. I can’t stand you leaving my sight. Don’t you know that even if you’re alone in the country, I can still know how you are at all times?”
“A ghost,” she corrected him quietly.
Wen Zhaoye paused, his chest heaving heavily, and then changed his words with a sense of frustration: "Fine, a ghost! If you didn't miss me, why did you come to see me?"
Wen Zhuo chuckled and retorted, "Did I come looking for you? Didn't you come looking for me?"
“Since you’ve appeared here, this country should be prepared for me to come looking for you,” Wen Zhaoye said coldly.
The two faced off. Wen Zhuo glared at him, and Wen Zhaoye got angry too. He forcefully pulled Wen Zhuo into his arms and pressed her head against his chest.
"What are you doing!" Wen Zhuo pressed her hands against his body, trying to pull herself away. "If you have another episode, I'll send you to a mental hospital! Let go of me!"
Wen Zhaoye pulled Wen Zhuo up close, pressed her against the wall, and buried himself in Wen Zhuo's arms. The familiar, cold breath filled his nostrils, and her slender fingers were pulling his hair.
He closed his eyes, his voice muffled.
"Wen Zhuo, I love you, I can't leave you."
"You've stood on that street for five years. Can you be sure your feelings for me aren't just an obsession built up over those years?" Wen Zhuo spoke to him in a low voice, a chilling aura emanating from her, seeping into their embrace in a sticky, lingering way.
"These obsessions, what is it that you feel guilty about in the past?"
Wen Zhaoye suddenly raised his head: "You saw my obsession." It was clearly a question, but he said it like a statement. He was certain that Wen Zhuo had seen his obsession today, which had been stirred up by that man.
Before Wen Zhuo could answer, he hugged her tightly again, his hands wrapped around her body, and black yin energy climbed on her skin: "It's too late, Wen Zhuo."
“You’ve forgotten a lot of things, and I might not be able to distinguish them, but seven years have passed, and whatever those feelings were, they’ve become a part of me.”
Wen Zhuo felt a chill on the back of her neck and realized that something was wrong. Why did Wen Zhaoye seem to be having another episode?
Wen Zhaoye slowly climbed upwards like a snake, coiling around her, his hot breath spraying onto her neck.
He whispered his love to her.
"I love you, I hate you, I resent you."
"But I can't live without you."
Wen Zhaoye bit her ear and gently rubbed her earlobe: "When you came here, you never had a chance to leave again, my dear sister."
Wen Zhuo grunted, "What do you mean?"
"It means you have to come with me." Wen Zhaoye smiled, pulling out a dagger from somewhere, the sharp blade pointed at himself. Wen Zhuo frowned as black yin energy quickly covered his injured arm. Wen Zhuo breathed a sigh of relief: "You're threatening me with this?"
Wen Zhaoye opened his eyes wide in confusion. He quickly cut open a wound, and the familiar fragrance instantly filled her nose. She swallowed the saliva that was rapidly secreting. She hadn't drunk Wen Zhaoye's blood in a long time, but every time she drank his blood, she was doomed.
Wen Zhuo leaned half her body outward, trying to avoid Wen Zhaoye's scent, but was pressed against the wall. The soft flesh on her stomach was being kissed and kneaded. She pulled at his hair and shouted, "I won't drink your blood!"
"Let me go! Let me go!"
Wen Zhaoye bit his lip hard, then quickly cut his fingers several times.
Wen Zhuo's gaze lingered on his lips, then moved away before involuntarily returning. Wen Zhaoye smiled at her, the blood staining his lips like lipstick, making his sharp features appear even more striking.
The scent of blood wafted towards her from all directions; Wen Zhaoye was like a giant perfume bottle.
Wen Zhaoye pinched her face and put his fingers into her mouth. She couldn't quite cover two fingers with them. His warm fingers stirred inside her lips.
As soon as his fingers entered, Wen Zhuo tasted the sweet flavor of blood.
Wen Zhuo held his hand in her mouth, unable to resist licking the blood off his fingers. After licking, she used her tongue to push his fingers away, saying, "Take it off."
Wen Zhaoye refused her: "Use it and then throw it away."
Wen Zhuo's throat moved, and the red in her eyes seemed to deepen. Wen Zhaoye stared at her wet lips and lowered his head to kiss them gently.
Wen Zhuo felt her blood boiling, as if someone was boiling water in her veins. Her low and depressed emotions were swept away. Her eyes were dazed as she looked at Wen Zhaoye, who was pressing down on her. He cut his wound on his neck again, and bright red blood flowed out. Wen Zhaoye stopped moving and just looked at her.
Just before the blood was about to drip, Wen Zhuo kissed him.
The sweet blood instantly flooded her mouth. She felt as if her whole body was covered in Wen Zhaoye's scent, like prey marked by a wild dog. Wen Zhuo bit his wound and sucked the blood.
Since we've already drunk it, we might as well drink more!
A warm kiss landed on her neck. She closed her eyes and heard Wen Zhaoye's deep, gentle voice: "After we get back..."
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