Chapter 47: Enraging a loser whose life and death are in your hands...
Shen Juansheng sat opposite her, seemingly having not heard anything she said. He lowered his head and remained motionless, the wire blade vibrating against his body, shimmering with golden threads as the cold wind blew in from outside the curtain.
The carriage was filled with the scent of old sandalwood mixed with expensive incense.
The light was dim, with only the faint light coming through the gaps in the car wall and filtered by the thick brocade curtains, barely outlining his drooping silhouette.
The young man was dressed in black, almost blending into the shadows deep in the carriage.
The silence lasted for quite a long time, long enough for Qing Guiyu to sort out his memories of the young man in the medicine house again in his mind, and his heart became uneasy.
The carriage's wheels swayed over the uneven road, the body creaking with every bump, and the copper stove in the corner made a slight clinking sound, the ashes of the incense slowly falling.
He remained breathtakingly silent.
Finally, he didn't look up, nor was he looking at her.
Young Master Jin Sheng slowly raised the hand wrapped in golden threads, and in this restrained posture, cautiously and subtly reached out to her from such a distance.
Then, as if thinking for a moment, he withdrew his hand and spoke softly and lightly.
"Why do you want to ask about those old things?"
His voice was eerily calm. He still didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on his crossed fingers, which were pale to the point of being transparent, and his fingertips were casually twisting a strand of drooping gold thread.
"Miss Qing has never liked me either."
This is true. It is not a lament about fate, but a statement of a reality that he has long recognized and may use it as a kind of support or shackles.
Then he looked at her, smiled slightly, and leaned forward.
This made Qing Guiyu panic a bit. Back then, her mind and eyes were completely occupied with medicinal herbs and pathology, and the little space left had to be filled with martial arts. She only considered him a patient in need of treatment, a silent, somewhat strange resident of the medicine house.
"Why do you ask?" he repeated, his voice still steady, but with a twist of his thoughts, as if he was really thinking, and the gold thread at his fingertips was twisted tighter.
"You're a piece of shit who doesn't even know pain," he said. "What's there to talk about love, young lady?"
The young man moved closer, and the cool fragrance on his body, mixed with the distant aroma of the incense burner, almost unnaturally suppressed the bloody smell of her wound.
Qing Guiyu felt a little afraid and grabbed the bamboo flute with his backhand.
As if entangled by a scarlet serpent, he then leaned toward her, gracefully and slowly, with a kind of self-destructive tenderness that was like a sacrifice.
Young Master Jin Sheng's body slowly covered her field of vision, and the dark fabric rubbed against her clothes, making a subtle, heart-pounding rustling sound.
A few strands of cold gold threads hung down to her shoulders, sliding across the dried blood on her shoulder wound, causing a slight pain.
"What do you like?"
The corners of the young man's lips finally curled up into a real arc, frivolous, sarcastic, and with the coldness of the Cold Marrow Technique.
He stretched out his fingers towards her and traced the edge of her face lightly, the gold threads of his fingertips almost touching her skin.
"What does a loser whose life and death are in your hands like?"
He asked back in a desolate tone, "I can only tempt you with despair and failure."
He lay in front of her like this, and the golden threads in his hair slid down his face from the edge of his earlobe and fell onto his cheek, like some strange tear marks.
Chen Juansheng tilted his head to the side, and the golden thread brushed past the edge of his lips and was held between his teeth.
His eyes moved, and when he turned his gaze back, that exquisite face was already filled with a sickly blush.
"When Chen Juansheng woke up a few days ago, he was already inside the black ice," his voice was a little hoarse, and he turned his head.
"Miss Qing, have you ever thought of saving me again, even for a moment?"
Qing Guiyu was silent for a moment, thinking about it, and felt that he still couldn't tell him about the second blood transfer with the golden needle.
Young Master Jin Sheng was too unpredictable. If he knew I had given him blood again—
My God, this paranoid madness will only get worse. It is still unknown where the situation will develop.
His voice was still calm and leisurely, but under his pale skin, one could almost see the blue blood vessels on his forehead and neck pulsating slightly.
Qing Guiyu looked at this sign and felt that he seemed to be in a strange rage. This madman, this huge rock on the edge of the cliff, only needed her to push it lightly and it would fall.
She began to sweat and felt that she was being a little reckless.
The current situation was really bad. She raised the bamboo flute in her hand, restrained the urge to run away immediately, and thought about how to get away in a way that would anger him less.
Unexpectedly, in front of her, Shen Juansheng's body made a completely opposite and extremely docile movement.
He tilted his head slightly, exposing his fragile neck to her gaze in an almost sacrificial gesture. The collar of his black robe slid open a little as he moved, revealing a small piece of pale skin on the back of his neck.
The golden thread in his mouth was wrapped around his neck, and the needle marks on his eyebrows were so red that they seemed to be bleeding.
Young Master Jin Sheng no longer looked at her, but kept his head tilted to the side. His voice suddenly became extremely soft, even mixed with the caution and fear of the young man in the medicine house seven years ago.
"Miss Qing won't lie," he said to himself, "Let me teach you."
His voice was even softer than before, as if he was afraid of disturbing something. "Seven years ago in the medicine house, he drank every bowl of medicine you handed him, except the one for treating nightmares, which he refused to drink."
Chen Juansheng's gaze was not malicious, but only fell on her hand.
"Someone in the dream can laugh or get angry,"
——Who is this strange young man in black clothes?
This person's tone contained only sadistic sincerity.
"Hmm," he suddenly paused, his breathing became a little rapid, his chest heaving slightly, he raised his fingers and drew them aimlessly in the air, and the silk thread swayed restlessly along with his movements.
"Perhaps some clothes, tears, sobs. Ah, yes, things like that."
Qing Guiyu's face suddenly turned red. She couldn't bear to listen to a word he said. She raised her arm and elbowed him without caring about the pain in her shoulder wound.
He frowned and endured the blow, not showing much pain. The car shook again.
Young Master Jin Sheng covered his mouth and began to cough until a trace of blood trickled from the corner of his lips. It was hard to tell if it was from the blow or the violent coughing.
He exposed the boy's hidden, shameful emotions, tearing them out like a tearing tear. The golden thread swayed slightly with his movements, catching a few streaks of light, but it only made his face paler.
This is not a confession at all, this is simply coercion.
"Shen Juansheng!" Qing Guiyu was so angry that he trembled, and his voice changed. "You——"
Young Master Jinsheng stopped talking at the right time, and taking advantage of her resistance, he grasped the bamboo flute in her hand with his cold fingers, turned the tip of the flute, and pressed it against his own throat.
"I'm teaching Miss Qing so carefully and telling you what I like, and you're going to get angry again."
Shen Jiansheng laughed softly, and the vibration passed from her chest along the bamboo flute to her hands.
"What else can I do? If Miss Qing doesn't want to listen any further, she will end Shen Juansheng's life here."
He hesitated for a moment, but then smiled and nodded. There was still blood at the corner of his lips that had not been wiped away, dripping along the gold thread beside him.
"That's fine."
The fingers covered with cold gold threads slowly pressed down the tip of the flute, moving it from the throat to the collarbone.
"Of course I can also pull out the bone-eating nail," he said with a smile. Those eyes covered with shattered ice, I don't know how many things they have seen.
There was an almost fanatical expectation in the haze.
"This time, he should die instantly."
His life depends on it right now, how could he be killed?
But he spoke with such sincerity,
Qing Guiyu was somewhat shocked by his madness and didn't know what to say for a moment.
Seeing that she didn't speak, Master Jinsheng tilted his head, and with the movement, a few strands of black hair fell down and swayed with the golden hair on his cheek.
"Yeah. Miss Qing is still angry with me because of those old things."
He smiled, his eyes sparkling like a spring breeze.
"But what do you want him to do? It's been so many years," the young man said gently, as if he were a newly engaged lover. The sickly blush on his face had not faded, but instead looked even more charming as he got closer.
"Did he really exist except in your medicine room?"
The young man's approaching aura almost enveloped her, and cold golden threads fell around her face.
Suddenly, there was a neighing of horses and a commotion outside the car, and someone outside shouted loudly, "Chen Tianji!"
Shen Yansheng suddenly turned back,
“Shhhhhhh——!”
Before he could answer, he heard the shrill neighing of frightened horses outside the carriage, followed by a heavy jerk, as if the carriage had hit a huge rock.
The car body tilted and shook violently, almost overturning.
Qing Guiyu was caught off guard and was thrown against the side of the carriage by the huge inertia. She held the bamboo flute in one hand and grabbed the wooden rafter next to her with the other.
Taking advantage of her unsteadiness, Young Master Jin Sheng suddenly tightened his arms, leaned over, and pulled her into his embrace. Raising his head, he flicked his fingers, and a crystal thread flew out of the air. With a crackling sound, the side of the carriage was shattered in the middle.
The evening wind, carrying some wood chips and iron filings, rushed in instantly.
Shen Juansheng held her in his arms, his black hair tangled with golden threads, rising in the wind. His black robe was blown by the night wind, covering her tightly beneath it.
"Okay, now please lie to me, Miss Qing," he slowly tilted his head towards her shoulder.
His cold lips were almost touching the skin of her neck. Amidst the night wind and the clamor outside, the voice clearly penetrated her ears.
Qing Guiyu's back stiffened, and he couldn't tell whether the trembling in his chest was caused by anger or laughter.
She could only feel his cold breath brushing past her, tangled with his long black hair that was tinged with coldness and hung down in front of her.
"So that others can see if I am your most beloved Gu slave?"
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