Chapter 99 Forbidden and Unable to Refute
The brownish-red medicinal liquid rippled slightly, almost overflowing the rim of the bowl.
Niannian hurriedly placed the medicine bowl on the bedside table, and with her scalded hands, she grabbed the quilt and covered him with it.
Outside, the fresh snow had not yet melted, and the cold wind was biting, turning breath into frost. Li Xunhuan, however, was curled up on the bed wearing only an undergarment.
His eyes were bloodshot, as if covered with a thick layer of rust. Apart from his occasional coughs, he looked like a living dead man.
He was completely oblivious to the thick comforter covering him. But when Nian Nian's burning hot hand grasped his wrist, he trembled as if burned by fire.
His skin, flesh, and marrow were frozen stiff, yet his heart was being fried in hot oil.
Niannian had no idea she'd only made things worse; she was both anxious and annoyed. The uncle already suffered from chronic illnesses; how could he possibly withstand the cold?
But this anxiety was mixed with an indescribable bitterness and helplessness, which made my eyelids swell and ache.
But she was a narrow-minded person, and even if the uncle was determined to die because of this, she would never do as he wished.
Even if the King of Hell summoned him to die at midnight, she would not allow it; she would tear down the King of Hell's temple to bring him back.
Niannian stood up, gave him a cold look, and without saying a word, picked up the medicine bowl, scooped up a spoonful, and held it to his lips.
The pungent smell of the medicine assaulted his nostrils. Li Xunhuan gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse like a withered twig, "What's the use of taking medicine? I'm already rotten to the core."
It wasn't his lungs that were rotten, but the person he was.
The Li family has strict family traditions, how could they have raised such a scoundrel as him?
His eyes, stained with red ink, trembled again, as if they were about to bleed.
The brownish-red medicinal soup trickled down his tightly closed lips, leaving a large pool of medicinal stains on his chest—dirty, foul-smelling, and once it got there, it could never be washed off.
After a moment of silence, she suddenly let out a soft chuckle.
Red threads were wrapped around his limbs, binding him firmly to the bed. Nian Nian pinched his chin, pried open his lips and teeth, and forced the medicine, which had cost her so much effort, into his mouth.
The pungent medicinal soup rushed into his throat, and Li Xunhuan grimaced in pain. As his throat contracted violently, he felt as if he were drowning in deep water.
When the empty medicine bowl fell back onto the bedside table, he was coughing and panting, and his eyes were red from the irritation.
His clothes were soaked and stuck to his chest, and even the skin inside was forced to soak in the medicine, becoming filthy and disgusting.
He tilted his head back as if facing execution, panting heavily, his voice broken and incoherent, yet his reddened Adam's apple bobbed up and down. His tearful blue eyes were slightly closed, and his cheeks flushed crimson, giving him a sickly, decadent air.
Nian Nian stared at him, her pupils trembling slightly. The pity in her heart suddenly dissipated, and a hidden urge to be violent began to stir.
—Anyway, he's already very old. He doesn't need anyone's pity.
Having hatched a wicked plan, Nian Nian curled the corners of her mouth, picked up a candied fruit, and stuffed it into her mouth.
Before the sugar stains on the candied fruit had even melted in her mouth, she had already captured his thin lips in her mouth, nibbling and biting at them.
Their disordered breaths mingled for a moment, the red thread wrapped around his neck, and Li Xunhuan was forced to open his lips.
The smooth, sweet taste bursts in on the tongue, instantly suppressing the fishy, bitter flavor deep in the throat.
The candied fruit was crushed more and more as they intertwined on their lips and tongues, like nectar flooding their way in, blocking their throat with thick honey, leaving them with nowhere to cough or itch. In the short time it took for their lips and teeth to open and close, the sticky saliva could only overflow from the corners of their lips.
All that could be heard was the sound of my heart pounding against my chest, rapid, muffled, and intertwined with muffled coughs.
Pain and itching filled his organs, yet Li Xunhuan could only lie there, half-paralyzed, spitting out the uncontrollable throbbing he felt at that moment.
The tears he held back finally trickled down his cheeks and into his ear, blocking the thin membrane between his eyes.
Li Xunhuan tensed his knuckles, feeling as if he had been pressed into a honey pot, where everything in the world had vanished, including his own personality.
He could faintly smell the fragrance of plums again, strong and sour, which made his mouth water uncontrollably.
He felt as if he had returned to that plum tree.
However, when he opened his eyes, he saw the frostbite marks on Nian Nian's face that had not completely faded.
The frostbite instantly pulled him back to his identity as a 'father'. The plum tree in his dream suddenly collapsed, crushing his spine, its branches piercing his bones.
Amidst the blood and gore, he repeatedly tried to see himself clearly.
He no longer possessed a young body; all he had was a lonely, aged, timid, and bitter shell.
Even he couldn't help but despise himself. It turned out that Zhao Zhengyi hadn't said a single wrong word. Li Xunhuan was indeed a disgrace to the martial arts world.
The throwing knife at his fingertips embedded itself inch by inch into his palm, tearing through his flesh, as if searching for his filthy soul.
Just as the throwing knife was about to pierce the bone, it was snatched away by Nian Nian and held in her palm.
Blood dripped from the hilt of the knife onto the quilt. Nian Nian's face turned cold, and her dark eyes hardened.
She slowly raised her eyes and said sweetly, "Uncle, you're so disobedient."
She twirled the blood-stained throwing knife between her fingers and said casually, "The old man once said that if I make another mistake, he will slap my palm."
"But now that you've made such a mistake, where should I hit you?"
She bent down, the throwing knife spinning at her fingertips before suddenly stopping.
The frost-covered blade of the throwing knife traveled down his undulating chest, and his thin inner garment suddenly ripped open, exposing his pale skin to the biting wind, where it trembled silently.
The coldness of the blade and the heat of her breath corroded his flesh, and Li Xunhuan tensed up instantly.
Nian Nian chuckled softly, then suddenly put the throwing knife back into his palm.
Before Li Xunhuan's eyes could focus, his arm had already risen uncontrollably.
The tip of the knife pressed against her undergarment, and the red thread, guided by his wrist bone, slowly sliced through the two thin layers of plain silk.
He watched as his blood dripped onto her snow-white skin, mingling with the red marks left by her sucking and biting.
She squinted and climbed onto his shoulder, then suddenly gasped, "Father, don't look..."
Li Xunhuan was breathing with difficulty, his whole body was convulsing, his skin and flesh were so cold that they were almost frozen to pieces, but his face was as hot as a red-hot iron.
He... he actually...
A forbidden tremor crept up his spine, mixed with fear and guilt, corroding a large hole in his heart.
"Dad, is this really treating your illness? But it hurts so much..."
She straddled his waist, her voice still carrying a naive tremor at the end.
Before the sizzling oil had completely cooked him, he struggled in terror, saying, "No..."
Li Xunhuan's fingertips had turned white from the force of his grip. He wanted to get up and cover her mouth, but bound by the red thread, he could only painfully clench the quilt.
He dared not look again, lest he see the reflection of his own desires.
He could only bite his tongue and close his eyes tightly, overwhelmed by shame, inner turmoil, and self-loathing.
......
The comforter was completely unusable, and before Niannian could even have a new one carved from wood, Li Xunhuan had already grabbed her wrist.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his lips trembling, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were grinding against gravel, "You... take a shower."
Niannian blinked twice before realizing what he wanted her to wash.
She leaned back comfortably against the headboard and said lightly, "Why should I wash it off? Even if..."
Before she could finish speaking, Li Xunhuan turned deathly pale and exclaimed, "No!"
He clenched his fists, his fingertips digging into the bloody marks on his palms, his forehead already covered in cold sweat.
They were so frightened.
Niannian sat up, gripped his uninjured hand, and said in a drawn-out voice, "Then I want Uncle to wash it for me personally."
......
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery frost on the floor. Nian Nian, wearing a damp undergarment, slipped into the quilt.
The damp ends of his hair soaked through Li Xunhuan's inner garment, and he hurriedly tried to get up, but Nian Nian entwined him tightly like vines. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her icy feet pressed against his thighs.
Li Xunhuan stood frozen in place, his hands, their fingertips wrinkled from being soaked in water, not daring to touch her at all.
He raped his adopted daughter, defiling Niannian's innocence, and shamelessly...
Such a scandal can still be explained and covered up if it happens only once. But if it happens two or three times, how can it be concealed?
Not to mention... he, that beast, felt ashamed and had no face to defend himself.
...There's no going back.
Li Xunhuan, dragging his decaying body, lay in what seemed like a coffin, watching his soul crumble and shatter bit by bit.
Niannian sniffed around in his arms like a kitten, and it took her a long time to finally have a moment to look up at him.
Although Li Xunhuan was plagued by illness, he was too handsome, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes only added to his refined elegance.
His emerald green eyes were often filled with tears, tears that held unspeakable bitterness and pain—all sorts of feelings were contained in those affectionate eyes.
She blinked and said in a sticky voice, "Uncle, you're so handsome."
Li Xunhuan clenched his hands helplessly, a choking pain in his throat as if a knife were stuck there. He moved his lips, paused for a long time, and then said self-deprecatingly, "I'm old."
He wanted to say more, but just uttering those words made his stomach feel as bitter as if he had swallowed ten thousand pounds of snake gall.
Li Xunhuan is left with only this still presentable physical appearance; beneath this empty shell, he has long been hollowed out by termites.
But as she grows up, this only physical appearance that can move her heart will eventually fade into a broken mural.
In their youth, countless talented men and beautiful women were attracted to good looks, but after youth fades, who would praise the beauty of a gray-haired, withered-skinned person?
He smiled bitterly, speechless. So Li Xunhuan was also a superficial person who valued appearances. Nian Nian's palm was close to those moist green eyes, and the fluttering eyelashes seemed to brush against her heart through her skin.
She felt a tingling, itchy sensation in her chest and couldn't help but gaze at him, repeating over and over, "But I like you so much."
"Even if you get old, I'll still like you."
"Niannian only likes you."
......
Li Xunhuan's ten fingers, gripping the throwing knife, convulsed uncontrollably. He clenched his fists, listening sadly to his heart pounding in his ears.
Compared to the red thread on his wrist, his uncontrollable desire clung to him even more tightly.
This out-of-control thread is tied to a convulsing heart at one end and a chokehold at the throat at the other. They stand at opposite ends of evil, yet they are entangled into a knot from which they can never escape.
He vaguely heard countless voices sobbing and pleading in his ears.
"You said you would love Niannian for a lifetime, so quickly tell me you love her too."
This is him at seventeen, standing under the plum tree.
"Push her away! How can you be so shameless? She's only a few years old. What do you think of the Li family's reputation? The martial arts world will never tolerate a Li Xunhuan whose reputation is ruined."
This is him walking alone ten years ago.
He couldn't hear his own voice at this moment, perhaps because his vocal cords had already broken, or perhaps because—the unthrown throwing knife had already given the answer.
Despite the turmoil in his heart, he remained steadfast in his principles, refusing to cross the line.
He wanted to laugh, but in the end he just closed his eyes, sighed wearily and helplessly, and said, "Go to sleep."
The cold moonlight shone on his pale face, soaking the still-wet tear stains once more.
As the night deepened, he unconsciously gripped her frostbitten feet in his sleep. Thin ice settled in his palm, and he frowned, but he never let go for a moment.
Niannian suddenly opened her eyes, tensed her toes and lightly stepped on him, pouting and saying, "Coward."
Anyway, she isn't.
She chuckled to herself: Anyway, he's old, so it doesn't matter how much she bullies him, right?
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Author's Note: Here I am~ My dad's cousin died suddenly yesterday. I got home too late and was writing until 1 a.m. when I was so sleepy I could barely keep my eyes open QWQ
As I typed the last line, the thought that came to mind was: "The children of Nancun bully me because I'm old and powerless, SOS!"
The countdown to Nian Nian regaining her memory has begun! She's always full of bad ideas, bullying the sick and weak uncle. The uncle is in a terrible state.
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