Use it for my purposes
The horse stopped in front of the villa, and Liu Jinhuai almost half-carried Yu Mobai off the horse, his hands tightly wrapped around the other's waist.
Through the fabric soaked with sweat and blood, one could clearly feel the subtle trembling of the muscles beneath due to pain.
The touch made Liu Jinhuai's heart tighten, and a feeling mixed with heartache and a certain secret excitement quietly arose.
Inside the room, the candlelight flickered. Liu Jinhuai personally unbuttoned Yu Mobai's robe, his movements carrying an almost reverent care that he himself was unaware of.
The outer robe slipped down, and the inner garment was gently pulled down to the waist, revealing the smooth lines of the shoulders, back, and arms, as well as the glaring red marks and abrasions on them.
"Does it hurt?"
Liu Jinhuai's voice was low and hoarse, and his fingertips, dipped in ointment, hovered above the wound, as if he dared not touch it.
His gaze lingered uncontrollably on the exposed skin, the healthy complexion contrasting with the gruesome wounds creating a strange beauty that was both fragile and powerful.
Yu Mobai turned his head slightly, a few strands of his dark hair damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. Instead of crying out in pain, he curled up the corners of his lips, revealing a smile that was a mixture of pain and unruliness.
He raised his hand, his warm fingers gently covering the back of Liu Jinhuai's hand, which was tightly gripping the medicine bottle and whose knuckles were white.
With a soothing yet undeniable force, she guided his hand to the deepest scar on his chest.
"Brother Jin Huai personally applied the medicine for me... and I no longer felt the pain."
His voice was weak and soft, with a hook-like quality at the end, but his eyes were bright and piercing, staring straight into Liu Jinhuai's eyes.
The coolness of the ointment on his skin made his body tense up almost imperceptibly for a moment, but he forced himself to relax and completely "surrender" himself to it.
Liu Jinhuai's breathing suddenly became heavier.
Beneath my fingertips was the other person's warm skin, steady heartbeat, and the wound caused by me.
A strong sense of possessiveness and protectiveness welled up inside him, making him almost want to crush the person in front of him into his arms.
He carefully applied the ointment, his movements so gentle it was unlike his own; each application felt like a secret ritual.
Yu Mobai let him do as he pleased, even tilting his head slightly to reveal the delicate line of his Adam's apple, whispering softly, his breath brushing lightly against Liu Jinhuai's ear.
"I chose this route, yet it has caused Brother Jinhuai such a fright... If you are harmed in the slightest, I..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but his regret and lingering fear were genuine.
Then, he changed the subject, his gaze drifting towards the steaming hot spring, his voice gradually lowering, carrying a hint of embarrassment and probing that left much to the imagination.
"This Nuanchuan Town... is famous for its network of hot springs. I had been thinking of inviting Brother Jinhuai to join me this time... to experience the soothing sensation of these springs, washing away the dust and torment of life... I'm sure it will be a uniquely comforting experience..."
His voice grew softer and softer until it was almost a murmur.
Her fair earlobes quickly blushed with an alluring crimson that spread all the way to her neck.
This blatant hint, combined with his half-undressed, wounded yet alluring appearance, creates a deadly allure that blends innocence and charm.
Liu Jinhuai felt as if all the blood in his body rushed to one place in an instant, his throat tightened, and his lower abdomen felt as taut as iron.
He leaned closer, almost enveloping Yu Mobai in his shadow, their hot breaths mingling.
His gaze was fixed on the other person's lips, which seemed to be covered with a layer of moisture, and his voice was hoarse and barely audible.
"If that's the case... then..."
Just as his lips were about to touch hers, and his reason was about to crumble—
Yu Mobai seemed to be suddenly awakened, abruptly turning his head and coughing violently. He then pulled up his slipping clothes to cover the tempting sight.
He raised his eyes, the tears still glistening, yet filled with helpless regret and just the right amount of pain, and gently interrupted him.
"It's a pity... these wounds on my body really can't get wet. This time... I can only trouble Brother Huaijin to enjoy it alone."
boom--!
All the ambiguity, all the passion, all the pent-up desires were instantly frozen by this seemingly reasonable statement.
Liu Jinhuai froze on the spot, maintaining the posture of about to kiss, his expression constantly changing.
That restless, unsettling feeling was driving him almost insane.
He stared intently at Yu Mobai, but the other only looked back innocently and apologetically, as if the person who had just guided his hand and used words and eyes to tease him was not himself at all.
The abrupt silence following this extreme push and pull is more impactful and more tantalizing than any direct invitation.
Liu Jin's burning anger and resentment eventually transformed into a deeper hatred for the bandits and an even stronger determination to possess this man.
The next two days were a bittersweet torment for Liu Jinhuai.
Yu Mobo needed to rest due to his injury, and he spent most of his time lazily leaning against the couch.
He no longer deliberately kept his distance; instead, he appeared closer and more dependent than usual.
He would play chess with Liu Jinhuai, and after taking medicine, he would naturally put a candied fruit in Liu Jinhuai's hand. He would also whisper Liu Jinhuai's name at night because of the "pain in his wound".
Every unconscious approach, every dependent glance, stirred Liu Jinhuai's heartstrings like a feather, making his blood surge, yet he had to forcefully suppress it because of the other's injuries.
The pent-up anger and resentment, which had nowhere to go, accumulated in his chest and eventually, he transferred it all over the bandits who dared to ruin his plans!
When Yu Mobai casually chatted with him, starting with the folk customs and interesting stories of Yancheng, he gradually led the conversation to how the people organized local militia and how they struggled to survive under the harassment of bandits.
Liu Jinhuai listened to the feigned ease and worry in his tone, looked at his slightly pale profile due to his injury, and thought about his own frustrating situation these past two days.
A surge of emotions, a mixture of protectiveness, a desire to perform, and an urge to vent, suddenly welled up inside me.
He suddenly grabbed Yu Mobai's hand, interrupting him, his eyes burning with a resolute determination bordering on defiance.
"Enough! It's just a bunch of bandits, why bother with such trouble!"
Liu Jinhuai's tone was resolute, leaving no room for doubt.
"I'm giving you 80% of the military power! You'll be fully responsible for suppressing bandits in Yancheng and the surrounding areas! I want you to go ahead and do it, and completely wipe out these eyesores of scum!"
He finally, willingly and proactively, handed the sword that Yu Mobai had longed for to him.
All of this stemmed from that meticulously planned "encounter" and the perfectly timed "teasing" and "torture" of the past two days.
Yu Mobai lowered his eyes, concealing the fleeting, cold, and satisfied glint within them.
— — — —
Song Qianchi, the once powerful elder of the Song family, still stands tall, but his brows are etched with humiliation and resentment.
In his youth, he risked his life, fighting for the Song family's vast fortune, but now he's being controlled by a mere young punk!
It was all because his good-for-nothing nephews and nieces, relying on his power in the West District, committed those lawless acts, even going so far as to steal and sell the family's private property...
These deadly weaknesses, held in the hands of that brat Song Guansui, were like invisible shackles around his neck.
This forced him, this old man, to return to public life and be used by others.
Whenever he thinks about it, he feels a lump in his throat, unable to swallow or spit it out.
Song Guansui took in his resentment but never pointed it out.
At the clan meeting a few days ago, in front of the entire clan, he earnestly praised Song Qianchi's past achievements, calling him a "pillar of the family".
He solemnly requested that he "come out of retirement again to help the family for the greater good of the family."
These words gave him face, as if Song Qianchi was not coerced, but a meritorious official who was appointed in a time of crisis.
Today, in this quiet room where only the two of them are, the air is filled with the fragrance of sandalwood, and they have had several rounds of drinks.
Song Guansui personally poured Song Qianchi a full cup of wine, speaking in a casual tone as if they were chatting about everyday matters, but he delivered a heavy blow.
"Elder Qianchi, I received news the day before yesterday that I have sent people to 'invite' your nephews and nieces who were 'studying' in the West District back to the Central District from the harsh and cold West District."
Song Qianchi's hand holding the cup trembled violently, and the wine almost spilled.
He suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with surprise, fear, and a glimmer of disbelief.
Song Guansui seemed oblivious to his loss of composure and continued speaking in his calm tone.
“It is inevitable for young people to make mistakes. I have invited the best teachers from Luoan Academy to personally teach them knowledge and manners.”
“Once they have completed their studies, the family will be in need of manpower, and they may very well be able to… inherit their father’s business and contribute to the Song family again.”
These words, like a precise butcher's knife, instantly pierced through Song Qianchi's hard shell, directly striking the softest and most anxious part of his heart.
He was not afraid of death, but he was afraid that his family bloodline would be disgraced because of him, and that his life's struggle would ultimately end with no descendants and no one to inherit his legacy!
Instead of using his weakness to threaten him into continuing to be a lackey, Song Guansui gave his nephews and nieces a chance to start anew and even bring glory to the family.
He preserved his last shred of dignity and gave him a future he could never have imagined.
With a clatter, the wine glass slipped from the trembling hand.
Song Qianchi abruptly pushed aside the food table, staggered to his feet, and then, this once unruly old minister knelt down before the young head of the family, touching his head to the ground, tears streaming down his face.
"Patriarch...this old man...this old man was confused before! From this day forward, my life, Song Qianchi's life, belongs to the patriarch! I will obey any command, even at the cost of my life!"
He prostrated himself on the ground, his voice choked with sobs. It was no longer a subjugation to power, but a heartfelt and utter surrender filled with gratitude and remorse.
Song Guansui leaned slightly forward, offering a gesture of support, his tone remaining calm.
"Elder, you flatter me. Please rise. The future of the Song family still depends on a wise and experienced person like you."
Fu Cong, standing in the shadows to the side, took in all of this.
He watched as the head of the household effortlessly pried open the most stubborn nail, not only making it submit but also earning its gratitude.
This precise grasp of human nature, this skillful use of both kindness and severity, and this combination of soft and hard tactics, earned his utmost admiration.
However, when Song Qian withdrew with profuse thanks, the study returned to silence, leaving only Song Guansui alone. Fu Cong looked at his figure reflected in the window, which was stretched particularly long and lonely by the moonlight.
The initial admiration in my heart was instantly replaced by a surge of heartache.
The patriarch... has successfully won over yet another person.
With his wisdom and skill, he accurately identified the gaps in everyone's heart and filled and utilized them in the most "perfect" way.
He stood at the pinnacle of power, controlling the joys and sorrows and destinies of countless people, yet he himself was so...lonely.
Fu Cong silently lowered her head, not daring to look any longer, feeling that the figure was even colder than the moonlight of this autumn night.
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