Chapter 7 The gentle and kind gentleman with murderous intentions actually wanted to strangle him to death? ...

It was too cold last night, and he didn't sleep well. He is young, and he started to feel sleepy as soon as it got dark.

He felt his husband bending down, lifting him out of the water, drying him, and putting an undershirt on him.

When the gentleman opened the closet, he opened his eyes slightly, and then was stunned for a long time.

My mind suddenly became clear.

Why are there so many small clothes in the closet?

Jiang Qiyan pursed his lips, feeling a little scared for no reason.

Didn't the gentleman say that he came so hastily that there was no room prepared for him...

But these clothes, no matter how you look at them, seem like they were planned in advance.

Could it be that the emperor chased him away because of you, sir...

No, no, no, don't think about it anymore!

Jiang Qiyan covered his eyes and cursed himself in his heart.

How could he think like that? Mr. is not a bad person. He is the only person who is good to him.

Maybe my father had already said that he would give him to you, so you took great care to prepare clothes for him.

Even if the gentleman deceived me, there must be a reason for it.

The husband didn't prepare a room for him because he wanted him to sleep with him. The husband has been lonely for a long time and just wants someone to accompany him. What's wrong with that?

On the contrary, how could he think of the gentleman like this?

The feeling of guilt began to spread in my heart again and became more and more intense.

Jiang Qiyan was a little afraid to look Pu Tingsong in the eye.

He was afraid. He was afraid to see his husband's gentle smile. That extremely gentle expression would make him feel even more guilty for his previous thought.

Pu Tingsong was dressing him, and his slender fingers accidentally brushed across his skin. Such a slight contact made him shiver.

He was afraid of the touch of fingers. Every touch would be like a small stone thrown into the lake of his heart, stirring his soul and making him tremble.

But, I also want more, more, no matter where I touch.

That's the gentleman's finger.

He couldn't control himself and wanted to feel like Mr. Greedy.

Pu Tingsong tied his belt and was about to take his hand away.

Jiang Qiyan didn't know where he got the courage from, nor did he know what he wanted to do. Before he came to his senses, he had already grasped his husband's fingers.

It seems to be a silent retention, and also seems to be an invitation.

Pu Tingsong paused slightly, and just let him hold it.

"What?"

A smile whose meaning is as blurry as seeing flowers in the mist.

"Do you like your teacher to touch you?"

Jiang Qiyan looked up suddenly, but saw that the gentleman looked as if he was just joking.

Not knowing where the emotion came from, Jiang Qiyan felt a little lost.

He just stared at Pu Tingsong without saying a word, only uttering "hmm" very softly in his heart.

Yeah, I like you touching me.

When I am touched, I feel that you are pampering me.

When you allowed me to touch you, I felt at peace for a moment. At least now you still want me.

When the Queen Mother was still alive, she never allowed him to get close to her.

His admiration and dependence on him were so overwhelming that his mother became sick with grief and hated him as if she were some very dirty thing.

He approached cautiously, wanting to comfort his mother. He wanted to tell her his treasured happy stories, but he was slapped to the ground as soon as he opened his mouth.

He fell to the ground, feeling very sad. He did not dare to cry in front of his mother and could only endure it silently until dark.

After dark, he hid under the quilt and cried silently.

He comforted himself again and again, it's okay, it's okay, it's not that the queen mother doesn't love him, the queen mother is just sick.

The Queen Mother hated him crying and also hated him being touched.

If you were touched or cried, you would be beaten.

Later, he gradually became afraid to cry in front of others, and gradually became afraid to touch anyone.

After repeated attempts to approach and repeated beatings and scolding, fear finally became a habit and a conditioned reflex.

Being touched makes him afraid, and he always feels that people who touch him will hate him.

He seemed to be getting sick little by little, and he had a disease that he dared not let anyone touch him.

Expectation and fear coexisted, and contradictions filled his young heart, making it full of holes.

Inferiority complex became his incurable disease.

Mr. Ke is the only exception.

The gentleman was so gentle and considerate. He always took care of his emotions, observed his every word and action, and accurately guessed every thought in his heart from those details.

Just like now, Pu Tingsong rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumbs, "Are you going to cry?"

"Why are you crying again?"

Yes, why does he want to cry again?

"Do you really like crying to your teacher?"

Yes, he obviously doesn’t dare to be seen crying, so why does he always cry in front of his husband?

"Did the teacher wrong you?"

No, but in front of his husband, he always feels wronged.

He didn't know where the grievance came from, those nights when he cried under the quilt, those sad feelings in his heart, were like dough fermented by tenderness, making him so uncomfortable that he couldn't help but burst into tears.

He sat on the edge of the couch, and the gentleman squatted in front of him, scooped out a white ointment from the porcelain bottle, held his ankle, and applied it gently.

His foot was injured, but no one noticed, or if someone noticed, they were too lazy to ask.

Only Mr. looked at his injured ankle the first time he saw him.

"Why are you injured?" the gentleman whispered to him at that time, "When were you injured?"

The gentleman's tone was full of pity, "Be smarter in the future and don't let yourself get hurt again."

The gentleman is so gentle, his gentleness is as unfathomable as water and it is so easy to make people fall into it.

He had no way to resist and even wanted to walk into the trap himself.

Even though the water was deep and dangerous, he wanted to throw himself into the master's arms regardless of anything.

But inferiority and cowardice prevailed in just a moment.

——He wants the gentleman to hug him, but what right does the gentleman have to hug him?

Jiang Qiyan gently retracted her little feet, "I... can do it myself..."

How could I trouble you to do this?

"I can do it myself..."

The voice was very soft, "No trouble sir."

"Well," Pu Tingsong covered the porcelain vase, "After you finish, you remember to stop bothering me?"

Seeing his eyes darken, Pu Tingsong touched his head and laughed softly, "Be good, it's no trouble, it's just applying some medicine, it won't tire your teacher."

"Go to sleep. I know you are sleepy."

Pu Tingsong blew out the oil lamp and went to bed.

He moved inside to make room for the gentleman.

That indescribable feeling surged up in my heart again, and I couldn't tell if it was touching or not.

He was only sleepy for a short while, but the master saw it and kept it in mind.

Jiang Qiyan closed his eyes, listened to the steady breathing beside him, smelled the faint scent of pine, and fell into a deep sleep in the quiet and peaceful night.

He had never slept so soundly in his life, just because his husband was by his side, he felt extremely safe.

Pu Tingsong did not close his eyes immediately. Jiang Qiyan did not know that the teacher had been staring at him in the dark for a long time, and only closed his eyes slowly after he fell asleep.

Those obscure thoughts hidden behind the sunlight, those unspeakable things, have nowhere to hide in the night.

Pu Tingsong fell asleep, just like every late night since four and a half years ago, he was dreaming, and his hatred deepened over and over again in his dreams.

His father took him to the front yard to receive the imperial decree, which was so unbearable to him to hear that it ordered a premature execution.

The nails irritated the eardrums and dug into the scars on the palms, turning all the resentment into blood dripping into the soil.

The blood had long since dried up and the wound had completely healed.

But my father's words still echo in my ears, day and night.

"I... don't blame him."

Master Pu dressed neatly and smoothed out every wrinkle on his body, "Sui Han, the ending of the imperial teacher lineage has always been like this since ancient times."

Being executed by the children they had raised was a fate they could not escape.

"From ancient times to now, there has never been an exception," Pu Laozi's tone that day was particularly earnest, "Sui Han, you are the same."

"The emperor will not allow anyone to ride above him, because the emperor's authority is inviolable," Pu Laoye patted his shoulder, "To be indifferent to life and death and have a clear conscience is our only choice."

"All we can do is teach others everything we have learned and then face death calmly."

"Jiang Beiwang had so many decent choices, but he chose Ling Chi!" That year, the nine-year-old threw away all the etiquette he had learned, with anger burning in his eyes, "I will not let go of my hatred, nor will I allow myself to be slaughtered by others."

"Sui Han..."

"I will use my own methods to make Jiang Beiwang know what regret is."

On the day when Master Pu was executed, he looked up to the sky and sighed.

"I am a descendant of the imperial teacher, born to be sacrificed," the sigh was heard from far away, "I will teach a wise and virtuous emperor, so that the people of the world can live and work in peace and contentment. Sacrificing an old man in exchange for the peace and happiness of the people of the world will make my life without regrets."

Pu Tingsong knew that his father was speaking to him while he was hiding in the crowd.

That was the first and last time Pu Tingsong shed tears.

"Impossible, father," he whispered, "I must ride above all living beings and hold their fate firmly in my own hands."

"Whether it's my life or someone else's life."

The glaring blood dyed the execution ground red. Pu Tingsong hid the arrow in his sleeve with an expressionless face.

The arrow hit Master Pu's heart accurately, killing him with one blow.

Pu Tingsong woke up and rubbed his chest for a long time.

The arrow clearly didn't hit him, but why did he feel so heartbroken every time he dreamed of this place, and then couldn't bear it and woke up?

In the long night, Pu Tingsong clenched his fists tightly, looked at the person beside him, and tried hard to restrain the murderous intent in his heart.

His hatred for the Jiang family not only stems from the fact that his Pu family has worked hard for the royal family for generations but ended up with a miserable death.

It also stems from anger at one's own tragic fate.

When his anger consumed his reason, Pu Tingsong placed his hand on Jiang Qiyan's slender neck.

——Such a thin neck is in your hand. You only need to give it a slight twist and your enemy will die immediately and never wake up again.

Pu Tingsong tightened his fingers slightly, scanned the child's face, who was still sleeping unconsciously, and couldn't help but sneer.