C122 — Violent Possession

The morning sun rose over the sea, and the emerald waves quickly diluted the large pool of blood discharged by the giant ship. The vessel sailed slowly, and by the time the sleeping passengers woke up, everything had returned to calm again.

A few seagulls perched on the mast. Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, landing gently inside the room. Stirred awake by the piercing brightness, Chu Chen’an frowned and slowly opened his eyes.

He looked down at his hands and clothes and finally realized that he had returned to his real body—probably sometime while he was asleep.

Qin Jue had kissed him for a long time the night before—so long that Chu Chen’an had become dazed before he finally let him go.

By then, it was already three or four in the morning. Chu Chen’an was exhausted and sleepy; even as he was on the verge of passing out, he kept being kissed until tears welled up in his eyes; he whimpered, whispering repeatedly that he wouldn’t dare do it again. Only then did Qin Jue allow him to rest.

He had actually only slept two or three hours, and he was still very tired. Eyes half-lidded in a haze, he laid face-to-face in Qin Jue’s arms, barely managing to meet his gaze.

Qin Jue rubbed his hair, his expression dark. “Baby, don’t you have something you want to tell me?”

That sentence instantly snapped Chu Chen’an out of his drowsiness. He lowered his eyes and hesitated, unsure of where to begin.

Should he start with his resurrection? Or how he suddenly disappeared? Or that he infiltrated the ship wearing a mask…

It was all too bizarre and complicated. Some things he simply couldn’t say, and some things he didn’t dare say.

Gripping the edge of the blanket, Chu Chen’an lowered his head and thought for a long while, but still couldn’t say a word.

Qin Jue sighed, fiddling with his hand. “If you can’t say it, at least give me a reason. Baby, you can’t keep leaving me in the dark like this every time.”

Chu Chen’an clenched his fingers, deliberating deeply before finally whispering, “I’m not actually from this world… I have a mi—”

He never finished the second half of the sentence.

[BEEP]

[Players are prohibited from revealing game-related content to NPCs.]

Chu Chen’an’s mouth hung open; frozen, he didn’t dare meet Qin Jue’s gaze.

Qin Jue looked down at his avoiding eyes, and though anger surged within him, he softened. Swallowing his fury and bitterness, he said, “I know.”

Chu Chen’an was surprised and cautiously looked up at him.

“I’ve always known. An’an, I regained my memory earlier than you think. Did you really believe I was completely clueless?” Qin Jue’s eyes darkened as he said coldly, “You’ve done a lot of strange things, but you thought you could keep them from me.”

Chu Chen’an tensed up, guilt-ridden. “I’m sorry…”

“When I lost my memory, why didn’t you come find me?” Qin Jue’s tone turned sharp as he scrutinized him. “Baby, did you think just because I had amnesia, I wouldn’t be able to find you again?”

Qin Jue kissed his earlobe and whispered darkly, “See? Even with amnesia, I wouldn’t let you go.”

“Seems like you’ve had enough rest now,” Qin Jue softly stroked Chu Chen’an’s cheek and murmured hoarsely, “It’s time we settle some scores.”

“Smell this.” Qin Jue squeezed a clear liquid with the scent of roses into his palm and chuckled. “It’s the scent you like.”

“Wait…” Chu Chen’an trembled, his face flushed red, but before he could beg for mercy, Qin Jue kissed him. “Mmm…”

Chu Chen’an could only let out low whimpers of plea, his tears slipping uncontrollably down his cheeks, only to be licked away by the other’s warm, wet tongue.

His sobs mixed with sticky, sweet begging sounds, swallowed up by the crashing waves outside the window—faint and broken, yet endlessly echoing.

……

When Chu Chen’an woke again, it was already evening.

The setting sun over the horizon cast a golden hue across the sea’s surface, shimmering where it met the emerald waves—so dazzling it made his eyes ache.

He was wearing loose pajamas, and his neck down to the corners of his lips were covered in ambiguous kiss marks and bite marks. The massive ship had sailed to an unknown location, passing a series of desolate islands along the way.

He stood by the window for a long while, lost in thought, until Qin Jue hugged him tightly from behind.

“What are you looking at so intently?”

Qin Jue kissed his cheek. Bathed in the hazy golden light, Chu Chen’an looked both radiant and delicate; his long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings yet his eyes were crystal clear.

Qin Jue stared for a moment, caught in the sight, then he instinctively pulled him closer, loathing the feeling of uncertainty churning in his chest.

“An’an.”

Chu Chen’an turned his head slightly. “Hm?”

Qin Jue held his hand, his voice low and serious. “Will you leave again next time?”

Chu Chen’an rested his hand on Qin Jue’s broad shoulder. His heart was racing, but he didn’t want to lie.

“…I don’t know.”

“That’s okay too.”

Qin Jue had already expected that answer, but a flicker of shadow still crossed his eyes. He gripped the soft nape of Chu Chen’an’s neck, voice chilling, “If you dare leave, I’ll follow you. Just like last time. Remember? I’ll die with you.”

Chu Chen’an didn’t know what he was feeling—it was like a pot of boiling water churning inside him, hot and overwhelming.

Left with no choice, he leaned obediently into Qin Jue’s embrace.

After all the game instances they had been through, he should have known better by now. He had never once been able to deal with this madman.

Qin Jue was very pleased by his act of submission. His finger traced down Chu Chen’an’s back, but he still growled out, “Last night was so dangerous. Why’d you go in alone? Are you tired of living or what?”

Chu Chen’an’s voice was hoarse, his legs still trembling slightly. He mumbled in a soft, pleading tone, “I didn’t know it’d be like that…”

Qin Jue pressed again, “Then why’d you sneak into a circle like that?”

Chu Chen’an hesitated, but didn’t answer.

“You still can’t tell me?”

Qin Jue’s tone dropped lower.

Chu Chen’an lifted his eyes to meet his gaze, and nodded. “Mm.”

“But you can tell me about Jiang Lin, right?”

Qin Jue noticed his trembling and scooped him up, placing him gently on the sofa. “You two came from the same… place?”

“Yeah.” Chu Chen’an nodded, but couldn’t say more than that.

Qin Jue’s gaze darkened. It wasn’t clear whether it was more jealousy or fury.

“No wonder you’re still hanging around that cripple even after he’s been wrecked.”

“No,” Chu Chen’an quickly explained, “It’s not like that between us… not like what you’re thinking.”

“If it was like that,” Qin Jue cut him off coldly, eyes narrowed toward Chu Chen’an’s slender waist with a dangerous glint, “do you think he’d still be alive? Do you think you’d still be sitting here talking to me?”

Chu Chen’an’s face flushed deep red. He bit his lip and glared at him.

Qin Jue continued, “So you mean that last night, even though it was so dangerous, that cripple wasn’t with you?”

Chu Chen’an shook his head, confused. “No… why are you asking?”

“If I hadn’t sent Cheng Hao ahead to find you,” Qin Jue growled, “you’d probably be dead in there by now. Idiot.”

His sharp, hawk-like eyes bored into Chu Chen’an, making him a little afraid.

“I really wanna chop that bastard’s legs off again.”

Chu Chen’an quickly tried to calm him down. “Don’t. He didn’t do anything.”

He spoke on his behalf mainly because Jiang Lin was his teammate. If he died, their mission would fail, and all the effort would’ve been wasted.

“You’re still speaking up for him?”

 

Qin Jue’s tone, though scolding, held an unusual hint of surprise. Even while angry, he seemed relieved. He draped a coat over Chu Chen’an’s shoulders.

Chu Chen’an lowered his head, chastened, and sipped water quietly from his cup.

The giant ship approached a large forested island, and a vast shadow passed over their room.

Qin Jue gently wiped Chu Chen’an’s mouth and said, “We’re almost there.”

Chu Chen’an turned his head, surprised. “So soon?”

Qin Jue smiled and explained softly, “This is where we’ll live from now on.”

Chu Chen’an froze, staring out the window at the coastline in the distance. A sudden wave of panic rose in his chest.

Qin Jue wasn’t joking.

…

Qin Jue held his hand as they disembarked the ship. “Baby, this whole island is named after you. Remember?”

Chu Chen’an stared at the grand European-style mansion standing tall in the middle of the island. The fine sand beneath his feet felt unreal, and he swayed slightly.

He still didn’t want to accept reality. “When are we going back?”

“No rush,” Qin Jue said, carrying him into the villa’s bedroom. “The climate here’s nice. Good for raising kids.”

He fastened a metal cuff around Chu Chen’an’s ankle. “We’ll go back next winter.”

Chu Chen’an’s face flushed with both anger and embarrassment. He tried to reason with the madman. “I’m a man. I can’t have children.”

“Is that so?” Qin Jue curved his lips into a smile. “Then we’ll wait until An’an’s belly gets big before you get out of bed. How’s that?”

Chu Chen’an pulled his feet away, but couldn’t escape. His cheeks were crimson.

He felt like Qin Jue was beyond saving.

 

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